• Dreams. I have them, they vary from night to night. Some are happy, but most are depressing. Sometimes they are beyond anyone’s average definition of terrifying. They are my night terrors. They occur when they please and almost always completely hinder my senses. The worst I’ve had, perhaps ever, occurred last week. This place, so foreign to me, an old town... a ghost town. Burnt to the floor, its own memories suffocating me. The sky dropping pieces of ash, I was wearing nothing but torn cloth, walking along the main road. I had cuts running all up and down my arms and thighs, they were still bleeding as I walked along in a state of confusion. There was nothing, not a hint of life for what seemed like miles. Suddenly, pitch darkness. I opened my eyes to white, endless halls. I needed to find my way out. My heart started pounding and very quickly I began running. No, not running, I was sprinting. Sprinting down vast, empty halls. Sprinting for so long, sprinting for hope, hope that there will be a way out of this hellish place. But there was nothing. All of a sudden a turn appeared to my left, I followed it around praying for the exit I’d been hoping for but my legs turned to stone. Refusing to move, they froze me in the middle of a long hall turning from its original white walls to a darker poisoned gray. Blood red vines were creeping through the cracks in the walls. The walls themselves were contracting, the stone that supported them breaking in a shocking fashion. The change of atmosphere successfully ensured a state of trepidation as my legs quivered in fear of being crushed. Unexpectedly the walls stopped caving. A clearway slowly came into view making my mind wonder what would be appearing before me in the coming seconds. I saw light drops of blood trickling down the path in front of me. My legs were now thawed, and being able to move them I began walking towards what they would lead me to. The dark room behind me began to disappear, I turned back around and stopped in fear. My heart again, pounding faster and faster. In front of me stood two boney figures, blocking another long hallway. Both were perfectly still. I was at a crossing and had to make a decision.The two figures were both pointing left and right. They were leading me to where I had to go, a place that would protect me. I looked to the floor still in absolute fright. I could feel the quivers my body made as the reverberation came rocketing off the floor. The hall ahead of me continued down still marking the way with blood but the blood was heavier along there. It flowed freely down to what I was sure I was searching for. I turned back to the figures. Their boney shapes had changed to a more human form. They were my parents, begging, pleading, as they tried to lead me away. Their eyes full with hope that I would stray from the hall ahead. I ignored them. I mouthed - “sorry.” Their human form shriveled back to boney structures pointing to the halls left and right of me, their hopes and expectations now decayed. Dead and gone. Turning to ash, they disappeared and my options diminished as the two halls either side of me slammed shut, all that was left was the dark passageway drawing me in with the scent of fresh blood. Slowly beginning my descent I followed the trail of blood. Whispers of familiar voices came smothering me, warning me. I ignored them and found myself standing at a black door. Beyond the door I could hear sobbing, “forget, forget, forget.” It was another familiar voice. A far too familiar voice. Recognising the crying, everything instantly changed; my clothes went from frayed cloth barely covering my body to dark, everyday clothes. The room changed to a house I could recognise, only now it was missing windows. My hair, ruined by the blood I had shed from the cuts I suffered earlier returned to its clean state. I was back to ‘normal’ but the person beyond the door was far from it. I opened the door. There she laid, a broken girl, disfigured from the abuse she had endured at her own hands. “L?” I ask. “What are you doing?” She looked up, surprised to see me. She threw the blade in her hand against the opposing wall. She began to cry, “how? How are you here? I’m sorry. So sorry...” She continued, a blabbering mess. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. “ I stood there, looking around the room. I could tell it was her bedroom, despite the mess. The white sheets on her bed suspended from the ceiling, entirely ripped. Blood.... everywhere. Splattered on the walls, the floor. Her. There was nothing left untouched by destruction. I simply stood. Horrified. I asked once, “why again?” On the floor she lay, a bloodied mess, carried away by her appetite for self-destruction. I fell to the floor, a rose without its sun and water. Shriveling to what was something that once stood beautifully tall, untouched by destruction and self-mutilation. It all came rushing back. I crawled over to her dying body and whispered in her ear, “you’re dying, L. You’re dying.” I began to cry. Holding her now, as she took her last breaths. I knew it was the end. Using the last of her energy she opened her eyes. No words came out. She just looked at me, a look that promised me everything was going to be okay. This time it was a lie... nothing was okay. She mouthed to me one last time what I had heard a thousand times before. “I love you.” Then she was dead. I let go of her. Walking away one final time I turned back to her bloodied corpse and screamed, “I’m not your Juliet.” Turning back, I followed the hall that I came from, away from what I had originally searched for, tears flowing. The girl I left behind would never really know, never really understand. But on the floor she lay, the world would never reach her again. 
Like in her dreams, she was forever gone. 


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