Damn, I Hate You

I woke up at midnight. My dream was terrible; there was blood all over the walls and my body lying limply in the hallway as my dad's fists dripped with crimson. He was savage and I had done nothing to stop it. I was completely helpless in it. It was... it was like I was eight years old again still getting used to the idea that my dad hated me and I didn't want to fight back because I was just sitting around praying to whoever was watching me in the sky and begging for his love again, and begging for him to come to his senses.

Damn reccuring dreams. I tried lifting my head, but it was impossible. I couldn't move anything! I tried rolling onto my stomach so I would be able to check the time. Couldn't budge. My hand reached frantically into my pocket. Come on, Deryk, you gotta have something to fix this in you're pocket! I pulled out my baggie of Tylenol, which I usually kept handy in a back pocket or something, and took the four little white pills dry. It should be good in no time.

I blinked in the darkness, adjusting to the pitch black lighting. It didn't take long for me to realize I wasn't in my house. God, what happened? How did I forget? Just think carefully; what is the last thing that happened before you went to sleep?

It didn't take me long to recover my memory. Thank God, too. I would be so ebarrassed to freak out over something as stupid as that! I tried moving again. Hurt slightly less. Where's Jaimie? She didn't want to be with me tonight? How weird.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. It was actually two fourty-seven. Great. I tried to go back to sleep and within minutes submitted. My head was spinning, my mind was wandering, my body was aching. I finally got to sleep, though.

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"Deryk? Are you ok?" came an angelic voice.

"Hmmm? Uh, huh? Yeah?" I was so groggy when I woke up. Ok, someone ingested way too many pain killers last night.

"You were screaming and crying in your sleep!" Jaimie said, still a bit shaken to find me like that.

"Oh shit, for real? I'm sorry!" I appologized. "Here, uh, what time is it?"

"Five something or other." she said.

"Oh. Sorry I woke you." I appologized.

"Don't be sorry. You ok?" she asked.

"Uh, prolly." I lied. Why don't you just tell her you're freaked and insanely scared of what you did? Why don't you explain to her your past two dreams? Why suddenly hide stuff?

"Here, scoot over." she said. I grunted as I moved and lifted the blanket for her to join me. She snuggled in and leaned back so her head was on my out stretched arm right by my collar. Her feet were freezing as they pushed up against mine. "So what were you dreaming about?"

Might as well tell her. "Nothing."

"Deryk, come on, you tell me everything. Was it your dad?"

I stopped for a second. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to just tell her that I had a dream that my dad tried killing her? Was I supposed to say in that dream, while I was rescuing her, she started to cry because she didn't want to see me acting like a monster like my dad? Was I supposed to try to explain to her that I'd just dreamed I'd turned into my dad and went on a killing spree because he killed her? Was I supposed to say the dream ended in me destroying a city and the cops trying to stop me, only to be killed in the line of duty? No. I don't think so.

"It's no big deal. I don't even remember it, to be honest." No. Not honest at all. More like the stupidest lie you've ever told. And to think, you'd almost let her know exactly what was going on in your head.

She sat in silence and played with my fingers for awhile. "You sure? You can tell me anything." She was practically pleading me to tell her now.

"It's cool. Seriously, it's nothing probably. I'll be fine. Just go to sleep." With my free hands I started to stroke her hair. I felt her go limp next to me as she drifted off to sleep. Was I supposed to sleep now? I don't think I want to anymore....