Darkness has always been my deepest fear, the dark that plagued my dreams; the gloomy abyss that I was in now. I was swimming; drowning it seemed, in the frigid night. I couldn’t move, but that was nothing new. I always seemed to be handicapped in my dreams. What are dreams? Are they my deepest wishes, only unlocked by sleep? Visions of the future, or the emotions of my heart, set free over the silent abandon? My dreams were none of these. My dreams consisted of monsters, unseen but known. They lurked in the corners of my imagination, monsters of unspeakable size and character, monsters that filled my thoughts every minute of every day. They were there, in the unknown black hole; taking over my mind, my sense of right and wrong, my life. Wanting it for them; wanting me, I was their slave.
My bed was daily drenched with precipitation, from the horrific dreams that occurred each night. I tried everything to cast aside these dreams of trepidation, of the shady desolation that seems to engulf my sanity. Every morning, I woke up, my mouth in a silent scream and my body in jerky spasms. There was nothing to be done, nothing ever to be done. Nobody understood the boundless night enough to help me; they could not comprehend the horror of being lost among the concealed beasts, of being alone.
I have always been alone, sent into foster care as a newborn baby. Growing up, I was always the odd girl, the type who chewed the heads off of Barbies. Well, nobody wanted to befriend the murderer of the most popular toy in America. But, what did that matter? I didn’t need friends. I could take care of myself.
Life continued on as normal, about as normal as it could get. By my early teens, I still hadn’t made a move to make any bosom buddies, friends who you could trust with your life, friends who you could trust with your most important secrets. Deep down I knew I wanted that, I wanted a friend. But again I had to accept the obvious, that would never happen. Who would want a reject, nobody wanted me. I know the day that I was born; my mom took one look at me and cringed in fear. I bet she dropped me on the spot. I wasn’t worth a penny, I was nobody, nothing. I faded into the starless night. I never lived. And this is where the dreams began.
They didn’t start off strong at first. Just little movie clips, it seemed. Not much to be afraid of. But after time, they persistently became larger, pulling me in, making me the dream, encompassing me with a cloud, a cloud of hate, rejection; a cloud of the dark.
All through my high school years, I lived in that shadowy realm of the night; never seeing the sun, rays of happiness or hope. They never penetrated through my tainted windows. As hard as I tried to rid of my eclipse, I wasn’t strong enough to move the moon.
The dreams reoccurred, over and over, always the same. You would think that the dreams would become routine, but every morning, waking up to the empty feeling in my lungs and the dampness of my bed seemed like a whole new experience. I had nobody to turn to for advice about these episodes. I still hadn’t any friends, no parents, nobody I could trust. Living with these dreams all through high school was torture. Thankfully, the end was coming fast.
It was high school graduation when I finally realized that I was free; I wasn’t restricted to anything. I could be anybody I wanted to be; I could go where I wanted, do what I wanted and make my own choices.
Knowing this, I ran; ran away from my past, and into the bright future. I left my life behind, my memories of being an orphan, of having no friends, of being alone. I didn’t need to be alone anymore. Wherever I was going, I could be a whole new me, I would be given a clean sheet of paper to make mistakes on. Happiness came knocking at my door, and I took it, with out a thought.
Remarkably the dreams didn’t follow me. They must be locked up in my old childhood memories, back in the orphanage, far away from my new life. No more monsters, no dark abyss. Every morning since my rebellious run away, I have been sleeping peacefully. There have been no more wet beds or screams in the night. My old rusted windows were open. I could see the sun, the hope of the morning and the feeling of a job well done at night. I was finally strong enough to move the moon, my eclipse has diminished. I am basking in the sun. I am free.