⚊The Hatchet To Hell⚊

Dreaming.

(cw: spooky stuff + gruesome descriptions in some places + I recommend listening to “End of Beginning - Djo” whilst you read).

[ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ]
2/17/2024

I've started a 'Dream Diary'. Well, that's what Dr Green calls it. I'd say it's more of a 'Burden Blog'. But it's what the doctor ordered, haha. Yeah, this is why I'm a P.I and not a comedian. Moving on from that, I've been writing down my dreams in a book I bought from the library the other day. That was a strange day. It was my first time going there because it was only recently built after the previous building had been burnt down. I know, what a bizarre event for this small town! It was originally a postal service, one I used to visit regularly when I lived in the care home. The man who owned it wasn't very popular with the residents of this place but I liked him. If I remember correctly, his name was Mr Mogridge. He's the only person who talked to me like a normal person after my parents, uh, died. Everyone else spoke to me like they felt oh so bad for me, but in reality, they didn't give a shit. Mogridge died with his post office in the fire, which was actually quite upsetting. I was the only one, apart from his grandchildren, who went to his funeral. I had to sneak out during the day because the carers didn't think it was a good idea for me to go. Lucky I did though. He left me his old watch in his will, which was kind of him. I used to read books about old objects so he showed me his collection of watches. I took a liking to this specific one and I suppose he gave me that one out of kindness.

I'm on a ramble again, excuse me. I've been getting off-track a lot recently, I think I've just been tired from my lack of sleep. My wonderful dreams have had me waking up very early and very often. Every single time I wake up, it's after a question is asked to me by a familiar voice. The question is always, without exception, 'Do you regret it?'. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be regretting but maybe we'll find out together. If my nightmares continue that is. The funny thing is, I don't remember what they most of them consist of. Except for the question that ends them all. Everytime it's asked, I wake up in a cold sweat. And... Daniel is sat there staring at me. He stares at me. He stares. I hate the staring.

[ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴅʏʟᴀɴ's ᴍɪɴᴅ]
I hate the staring.
It's horrible.
I hate it when people look at me.
I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
I despise it. So, so much.
I hate it when they stare.
Staring, staring, staring.

Hm.

[ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ]
Ah, I got distracted, excuse me. Nothing I ramble about has any relevance to anything, I apologise. I don't mean to take so long to write. I feel like I write so much in these entries but I take so long to write them, aha. I feel like if I write about my dreams, the entries will be a lot longer. I'm not even sure why Dr Green wants me to write about them but, he's my doctor, I basically have to do what he says. I know he tells me to take my medication and I've been deliberately refusing to but that's just one thing. I do pretty much everything else he says so it's fine! It's fine. Right? I'm sure he'd understand. He's a lovely man.

[ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴅʏʟᴀɴ's ᴍɪɴᴅ]
He's always been so kind to me... ah, no no no no, he's just a kind person. He's kind to everyone. He's just got a friendly personality. That's all. He's, uh... goddamnit! Get a hold of yourself Dylan, this isn't right! He's just a nice man with a nice personality. But he called me a special case... no! No, no, no that's not what he meant Dylan. He was just trying to be helpful haha, y'know? He doesn't really care, it's just his, uh, job! He's literally paid to help people, just like you are! It's not like he actually cares. You're being stupid Dylan, stupid, stupid, stupid! You always do this, you get obsessed with these people and they never care about you back. It's dumb. It's irrational. It's why your father did what he did and, and you know it's wrong. It's... it's wrong... right? I mean, Father's dead now. He can't hurt me anymore. Ugh, but if he knew he'd haunt me even more. He'd do everything in his power to affect me, even from the grave. But I could hide it? God, why is this so hard? I finally understand why most people stayed closeted when I was younger. I think that's the correct terminology, I'm not caught up to it all yet. Fuck, I got distracted, I need to write.

[ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ]
I seem to be getting very distracted today. Back to the dreams! I need to write about every dream I have each night and it'll help Dr Green figure out how to help me or... something along those lines. I am quite frightened that I might dream about something that'd be quite... awkward... to explain or talk about. I imagine it'd be very inapropriate for me to explain to Dr Green. Well, I mean, it's not like I'd dream about him, haha! That'd be insane! I'm not insane! I don't think he'd be comfortable with me as his patient if I was. Ugh, I need a good punch in the chest to sort me out. That was the cure when I was younger. My dad was the main person who 'healed' me with it. The others were boys at school. They weren't very nice. Noone helped me or stood up for me so they weren't any better. I should ask Dr Green to punch me, haha. That's a joke. I think. Anyway!

My dreams have been very odd the past few days. Most have consisted of me being brutally killed in harrowing ways. Which is, as you can imagine, quite scary for someone to dream about. Most involve an axe in some way which makes sense because they've always interested me. Ever since I was young too. I used to chop down trees for Christmas and various other reasons with my father, which was the only time he was nice to me. You can't really be drunk out of your mind when handling an axe, now can you? Back to the original topic, the rest of the dreams use guns to kill me. Except it doesn't kill me right away. I lay there in agony on the ground and gunshots are fired all around me. Bullet wounds are all over my arms, legs, ect before I finally get fired at on my head. After that I wake up. With one of the fucking ghosts staring at me from the end of my bed. I couldn't ask for a better thing to see after being murdered in a nightmare.

Nightmares - and dreams in general - are such strange things. How do they occur? Why do they happen? What affects them? Can they be prevented? Why do some people have vivid ones and others, none at all? There's so many questions. Dr Green doesn't dream often, apparently. We spoke about it in one of our previous appointments, when discussing dreams. According to him, I have scarily vivid dreams that isn't very common. I don't think having bloodstained-ghost-people in your home is very common either but whatever. That topic never comes up in our meetings (unsurprisingly) so I stay away from it and focus on my dreams. He likes hearing about my dreams. You wouldn't expect it, would you? He's such a nervous man, you wouldn't expect him to enjoy hearing about violence and blood. It's quite nice that he likes it when I talk about them. It's refreshing to get it off my chest.

Speaking of, he gave me a hug in our last appointment. When it was the end and when we were saying goodbye. I usually tense up when given any kind of physical touch, but, not this time. It was quite nice. I haven't had a hug for a few years now, haha. My heart was beating out of my chest from either anxiety or... well. You know. I sound like a middle-schooler talking about their crush in their diary. I know what that's like because I used to do it. That's how my father found out about my opinions on certain things. Certain people, to be more exact. I won't get any more specific because it's embarassing, quite frankly. And I'm sure nobody wants to hear about my silly crushes from my childhood. I'm not sure why I write as if people will see this journal but oh well. It's my journal, my rules. I guess. I don't even know why I write in here. I just started one day and now I have pages and pages of every day I live. Quite concerning that someone could know everything I've done, just from finding my journal. Everything's so random in here though, so I don't think they'd find much interest in reading it. Anyway, it's getting late so I think that'll be it today. I'm going to take one of my sleeping pills and call it a night. Let's pray I don't dream about a certain someone. Goodnight.

- - -

-w/c: 1572!!
-Well, I see Dylan has a small crush? I wonder how that'll end. Adam would know, haha. Oh, you haven't been told about that yet? Ah, don't worry. You'll find out soon. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :)

ᖴIᑎᑎ☆