{evangeline roe}{d6}{fin}

I curl into my bed reluctantly. I don't want to go to sleep. I don't want to. My bright blue eyes stared blankly into the darkness. I'm the only one awake, wondering how peaceful snores echoed on the walls. How they did it, I have no clue. The rest of them seemed to be sleeping soundly. They showed no sign of any nightmares. Not like me. Not like my horrid self. My long, thin fingers were curled around the edges of the sheets absent mindedly. Slim legs and cold feet hid under them, barely maintaining any heat. Dark was closing in even further. I childishly thought of monsters that could be lurking in the shadows. I think of how my cruel parents would never give me dinner. Only water just before bed. That's what I associated with darkness. Starvation. Horrible, horrible starvation.

I run one hand through my soft, pale blonde hair. It doesn't catch on a knot. I keep it well groomed. I'm broken on the inside, so I must look presentable on the outside, at least. I try to close my eyes. I'm so scared to, though. The nightmares will surely come. But I couldn't go without sleep for very long. I fall into a deep abyss of terrible scenes from my past. The one's I've been trying so very hard to forget. But they keep on making their reappearances in my dreams. I have no control. The first one takes me over, engulfing me in its horror. Run... Run... Run...

"Run! Run, Evvie, run!" She screeched. I could hear the sheer terror in her voice, urging me forward on my unsteady path. The owner of that voice is my older sister. She's gone now, I don't know where she is. Still being abused? In another household? Or possibly even dead? The theories are endless. But I do know one thing. Ever since I've been six, have guilty building on my petite, delicate shoulders. Guilt of knowing I left my sister behind. Guilt of knowing that she could still be in pain. Guilt because I did nothing to save her. What a horrible beast I am. Forget about the monsters underneath my bed. Run, run, run.

I heard a crash behind me. I saw only what I thought had happened to her. I remember it because when I revisited the scene the next day, there was a large brick. Coated with dry, caked blood that could only belong to my sister. As I turn back, I see her head crashed inwards and her deafening wails of pain. I almost turned back. But the look in her eyes told me to keep on going. Or we were both going down. There was no point in her suffering if I was caught to. So sprinted as fast as my little legs could carry me away from the danger. I was scared of bricks since. Especially when someone had it in hand. Run, run, run.

I seem to be scared of everything. I'm scared of other people, even. Scared of people I don't trust, which is the majority of everyone I've met. The only people I feel most comfortable around are the rest of the patients. That's because they all have something wrong with them too. And I know they won't hurt me unless they get possessed by pain. Part of my nightmare is forgotten, replaced by a dark void. It has slipped from my memory as most of my good experiences have. But I do know it must have been as horrid as the rest of the dream. But I feel myself fall face first on a soft, cushiony surface. I open my eyes in the surreal realm, feeling sunshine kiss my back. I start to laugh. It feels good to be free. The claustrophobic feeling has left me as I lay down on the ground. But there was a violent thrashing in the wind. The pale fuzziness was starting to vacuum away. Tendrils of shadows start to encase the light until everything has turned into a deep abyss. I feel myself falling. Falling, falling, falling. No one is there to catch me. I smack on the cold, hard ground, signifying that the nightmare was over. Thank goodness.

Sure enough, my eyes open for real this time. It's still dark in the room. My pale skin was illuminated by a faint light. I was too much in a daze to figure it out. I climb back into my bed and try to think of happy memories. Finally, from the dark, broken, twisted abyss of my mind, I happen to fish one out. It was with my sister, of course. I remember we had run away. Just days before the nightmare began.

"Good night, Freckleface." She smiled, tapping my nose. There used to be a large amount of my cheeks filled with vibrant dots as I've gotten older. I was nestled in moss right next to her. I giggle, curling up happily in her warmth. "Good night." I whisper back, already falling asleep. We were on our way to the hospital where she knew they would take care of us. At the time, I didn't notice the prominent look of pain and alarm on her face. She needed healing more than me. But she never made it with me. All because of a brick. I would have given anything to have Skye with me here and now. I would feel much better now. But life and fate has decided different for me. It has also decided much, much worse. What did I ever do to deserve this? What did she do? What did we do to have ourselves suffer?

I've always had self pity for myself. I drown in my own past, struggling to stay afloat. The nightmares only make it worse. Feeling bad for myself doesn't help anything. It just refreshes the feeling of Skye, who I'll never, ever forget. Not until I day, and then I will join her. I have always looked forward to that day when I depart from this wretched world. But it's so far off, I just mope around in horrid, dark thoughts. I don't necessarily like to have pity from others. It makes me look weak and desperate. It's fine if I do it, though. I'm not very fond with attention because people try to mend me. They only make it worse. I'm shattered into so many pieces no one could possibly repair me. I don't see why they bother, I'm hopeless, anyway. Broken beyond repair.

I rest my eyelids again, and another nightmare comes. I embrace the inevitable with open arms, hoping that one day it will finally stop.

don't get too close
it's dark inside
it's where my demons hide
it's where my demons hide