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booknerd1205 · 4 years ago

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This is just a little thing i came up with one night, and had to share somehow. It gets dark, so I guess this is a trigger warning. And please, if you’re having dark thoughts or feelings, tell someone! You’re not alone, and there people who can help. There are also spoilers about character deaths.

I dream that I’m drowning. An endless expanse of ocean surrounds me on all sides. I am being crushed by the weight of the clear blue water. Below me, dark shadows swim. Black shapeless tendrils swirl and dance through the water, waiting for me to sink and join them. Above me, I can see the faintest pinprick of light. I start moving, pushing and pulling the water, propelling myself to the surface. Just before my head breaks through the water, a black tentacle wraps around my waist and drags me down. I struggle, but more reach out and entangle my wrists, my ankles. I am almost out of breath. Spots dance on the edges of my vision, and my heart is beating so fast I feel as though it might jump out of my chest. I can’t hold on much longer. With a last thought of how close to freedom I was, I open my mouth and let the ocean fill my lungs.

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I bolt awake, greedily gulping in huge breaths of air. Another dream, I think forlornly. They’ve been occuring more and more often lately, and I know exactly what they mean. The weight of the ocean is all of the expectations and presumptions people have of me. Everything they want me to be, everything I have become to please them. The black shapes at the bottom of the ocean reminds me of blood. They eerily mimic the lines that the blood makes as it drips down my arms from the fresh cuts, and as it splatters into the sink, joined by water before it is swallowed by the drain. Every time I get close to the surface is when something good happens in my life. Whether i make a small achievement, or receive a smile on the street, it lifts me up just a little bit higher. But I’m always dragged down again by the bad. There’s always another expectation, or another family gathering where I’m told that whatever I’m doing isn’t good enough, and it just adds to the weight on my shoulders, dragging me deeper into the dark. I’m almost at the end of my line. I’ve spent my whole life being who others want me to be, shaping myself to fit the mold they want to put me in, and I don’t know if I can fit in it anymore.

I slip out of my sweat soaked sheets and make my way to the sofa in my small apartment living room. My family is practically made of money, so after sending me to the best school in the country, they pulled some strings and got me an apartment off campus, even though I’m only a freshman. Which is just another problem to add to the bunch. Even if I did try to break out of the box I’ve been squished into, enough money could be paid to whoever gets involved for them to forget about it and make it seem like it never happened, trapping me in an even tighter restraint of my life. For 18 years I’ve been whoever others want me to be, so focused on making them happy that I don’t know who I am or what I like. I’ve never been given the chance to explore before, so I wouldn’t know where to start if I took the chance. The only time I’ve ever felt at peace is when I’m reading. It allows me to forget my problems, and dream of different worlds, where even through bouts of heartbreak and angst, everyone gets at least a small modicum of happiness and peace.

Now, I gaze out my window and up at the stars. There are millions of them, each shining brightly, each with their own story of how they got to be a star. As i watch them shimmer and shine, I start to make out faces among them. Faces I’ve never seen outside my own imagination, or a television screen. Faces I watched laugh and cry and eventually still, faces which determined my feelings for the next few days. Newt, from The Maze Runner. Neil Perry, from Dead Poets Society. Will Herondale from The Infernal Devices. When I was at my lowest, these are who I turned to, who i trusted with my secrets.

And they all had one thing in common. They were all set free. They worked hard, and made differences in their worlds, but at the end of the battle, they got to let go and leave it all behind. I long to follow them, but I’m a coward. Too weak to find my own life, but too scared to give it all up.

Now, watching them, I seem to be able to hear their voices as well. Follow us they say. Come join us. You’ve done your best, you can let go now.

Suddenly, it’s like I’m watching myself from afar. I see my body stand up and walk down the short hallway to the bathroom. I watch as my hand reaches out and opens the medicine cabinet, rooting through it until I find the pain medication I got last year when I broke my arm. I was instructed to take half a pill when needed, never more than twice a day, but now I observe myself pouring a whole handful out. I fill up a cup of water, and place a pill on my tounge. Swallow. One. Another. Swallow. Two. Another. Swallow. Three. Another. Swallow. Four. Another. Swallow. Five.

I hear the voices again. Join us. Come to us. You’re done fighting. You can be free.

Another. Swallow. Six. Another. Swallow. Seven.

I’m starting to feel dizzy, so I lean back against the door frame and slide down until I’m sitting on the cold, hard tile floor. I close my eyes, and more faces appear. Johnny and Dally from The Outsiders. Chris Chambers from Stand By Me.

Another. Swallow. Eight.

More voices join the chorus, and hands reach down to embrace me. I see Allison Argent from Teen Wolf and Tris Prior from Divergent. They’re all smiling, welcoming me into their little family.

Another. Swallow. Nine.

You’re so close. Just one more.

I can barely feel my arms anymore, but I somehow force myself to move and place the last pill on my tounge.

Swallow. Ten.

I smile, and reach out to embrace my oldest and only friends, finally free.

#the infernal devices #dead poets society #maze runner #stand by me #the outsiders #teen wolf #divergent #actors

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