Forever

Firm hands grasp my shoulders and arms and shove me into a van. I slam into the door just as it shuts . As I gasp for air I feel warm droplets of salty water slip into my mouth. I try to scream but nothing comes out. All of a sudden its as if I’m watching a movie. Instead of being there experiencing everything I’m above watching as I scurry into the corner of the dark van and curl into a ball as I whimper, scared out of my mind. In a split second the scene changes to a white room with a white bed covered in white sheets with my weak body laying upon it. Again everything changes and now I’m watching as my body is in an office blubbering like a baby to a psychologist. I observe myself run out and into a bathroom where I pull a staple out of my pocket and start slicing my arm. In the blink of an eye I’m me again, I’m there experiencing everything instead of watching. Once again firm hands are grabbing at me as I kick and struggle to get away. This time when I try to scream all hell breaks loose and I scream bloody murder…

I sit up in my bed panting. That’s about the millionth time I’ve dreamt that horrid memory. That was the memory of being stuck in rehab at the beginning of last school year. My parents will never understand what I went through no matter how hard I try to tell them. Truth is I never bothered to tell them because they’d never believe me. In fact the doctor and I came up with the theory that the reason I decided to cut myself and do drugs was because I was trying to escape. What was I trying to escape from? Home, and my parents. They only lived together because they thought it was right for me, honestly it made me miserable. They always fought and it made me hate life because they were together because of and for me, so everything was my fault.

I roll over and look at my clock and saw the neon colors saying it was 6:20A.M. Time to get up for school.