How Long has It Been?

Dreaming is my favorite thing to do. Dreaming made me feel less insane.

My eyes shot open. It's time for me to get out of bed and start another day.

I got out of bed and rushed around like normal. I've found if I attempt to keep myself busy when I didn't want my mind to wander it didn't.

"Where you off too?" My mother asked.

"Out." I replied. I am eighteen now it really doesn't matter where I'm going on a Saturday morning.

My parents have finally realized I am who I am, and that talking to myself was normal. I heard what others couldn't.

I walked down the street.

"Where are you going?" a voice asked.

"Cemetery, you know that." I had managed to find one after my parents thought I wouldn't.

That silenced the voice fr a little, but not long.

"Why?"

"Because i need to talk to Michael."

Michael was my voice I was in love with. He knew everything about me.

"Why?" It asked again.

"Shut up." I yelled

The voice stopped and i started to breath heavy I hated the voices that pestered me.

Finally I reached the graveyard and sat by the tomb that had nothing written on it. I felt a slight presence.

"Michael?" i asked what most people would believe was just open air.

"Katie." he spoke with a clear beautiful voice.

"Michael." I said smiling.

"How is Katie today?"

"Better now, by far."

"You still seem down and out."

"I'm just thinking."

"About?" he asked concerned.

"The fact tat the person I'm in love with is just a voice."

"I am more than just a voice."

"Are you?"

"I am what you want me to be, a savior an angel, the devil himself. I can be what ever you want."

"My savior, my angel, my everything." I replied feeling the presence grow stronger.

"Than that's what i will be."

His voice faded, along with the image of the graveyard, everything went black.