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I Could Write It Better Than You Ever Felt It

20.

I remember waiting in the airport for about an hour.
Jack and I were talking and laughing just as I had written in my story. It didn't feel planned out or forced at all. It was very comfortable. Pete didn't seem too pleased about us, but we ignored it.

I remember getting coffee at the airport, and accidently spilling it everywhere about a minute later. It was the first time I had seen Pete laugh hysterically. I ran to the nearest bathroom to grab some paper towels to clean the mess. I caught sight of myself in the mirror on the way in. I stopped for a second and took in my new image. I almost didn't recognize myself. The purple dye in my hair was slowly fading. I looked tired; more tired than I actually felt.
I wondered if this was even me. I wondered if I was completely losing myself, literally.

I shook these thoughts, grabbed some towels and ran back to the waiting area.

"Do I look different to you?" I asked Jack while I wiped up the spilled coffee.

"I don't think so. Not at all." He replied.

I remember the last text message I recieved from Alex before boarding the plane.
It was a simple 'See you soon.'

Soon enough we were taking our seats on the plane. Once again I was in between Jack and Pete. One of the last things I remember was resting my head on Jacks shoulder, and I must have closed my eyes.

And I guess just like that it was all over.

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Have you ever had one of those intense dreams you can't immediately wake up from? Like a part of you realizes you're dreaming but you can't move or make a sound yet.

You start to panic, desperately trying to wake yourself up. Eventually your eyes snap open wide. You may bolt up into a sitting position, gasping for air. Maybe even letting out a scream.

It's terrifying to wake up like that.

That's how this felt. Like waking up from a nightmare.

My heart was racing. The thoughts from my first morning on All Time Low's bus came rushing back. Where was I? Was I still dreaming? Was I alive? What was going on?

It was dark. I felt around and realized I was in a decent sized bed, not a bunk. A familiar feeling came over me and I realized I was in my own bed.

I hopped up out of it and ran to the lightswitch on the wall across the room. I switched it on and the room lit up.

This was my room.
I was home.

As much as I felt relieved, I still couldn't shake my nerves. They left a sick feeling still lingering in my stomach.
I ran out of my room and to the staircase at the end of the hall. I could hear the television on downstairs. I skipped a few steps on the way down and practically flung myself into the living room.

There my mother, my real mother, was lying on the couch. She was typing fast on her laptop, as some late night talk show played on the tv.

"Mom?!"
I don't know why I questioned if it was her, as I could clearly tell it was. I must have sounded crazy.

"Hey! Are you feeling better?"

She looked up from her laptop and sent me a comforting smile. I tried my best to return it, but I was too overwhelmed to really comprehend anything.

"Uh..." Was all I could get out.

"You've been sleeping all day, I thought you might've come down with the flu or something."

I stared blankly at my mother in confusion. She smiled at me.

"You don't look too sick to me. Maybe just a little out of it. Why don't you get a glass of water and get some more rest?" She suggested. I nodded. I was in a trance.

What was going on?

"Ok..." I turned around and walked towards the kitchen almost like a zombie.

"Goodnight, Alice!"

"Goodnight..."

I decided to skip the water and walked back up to my room.
I had been sleeping all day?
But...I had been gone for over a week!
No, no, no, this couldn't be right.

I checked my phone, which was plugged in and charging on the floor next to my bed. I began to search through my old messages. Nothing. No Pete, no Jack, no Alex. I decided to give that up and went through my contacts in my phone instead. Same thing. Nothing.

I sat there on my bedroom floor dumbfounded.

It wasn't a dream, I told myself. I could not let myself believe that the last two weeks were just a dream. No way.

No way in hell.
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