Conscious Nightmares

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hey i know this is a boring piece, but i promise the next piece, there will be a more exciting plot; right now, im trying to figure out what everything is; i think i've finally got it and i'm basing it on someone very important in my life, so it should be easier to write now. also, im trying to get a lot of it out soon, im gonna do it in short bits, averaging this length (points down), i think i would rather read something that is posted often in small bits rather than a looong section. btw, does any1 know how to group stories on wattpad (sorry if it is a stupid question :) ) i might also be starting a new, easier to write story i can finish quickly and i'll alternate (something in the style of 'normal' wattpad pieces); it might be fun, but im afraid it might distract you from this story and i think it's one of the best stories i have ever written (or started writing!) so wat do you think? thanks in advance!

Arabella

Bleeep bleep. Bleep.

Ugh. Talk about déjà vu or what?

God that was annoying.

Experimentally, I sent conscious instructions to my brain to wiggle one of my fingers. Nope, no movement. Well, that was expected.

Briefly, I wondered why I wasn't hyperventilating. I mean, my plan had failed, right? But I seemed to be unable to produce any emotion other than a resigned calm.

The sound of a throat clearing alerted me to the fact that I wasn't alone.

"Um, well.." I felt a jolt of shock. It was my mother! But she sounded like she had aged at least a million years. I suddenly realized that I didn't actually know how long I had been in this coma. Or at least, I assumed it was a coma.

"I.. I'm sorry." My mother again. Apologizing. Huh? Apologizing? When was the last time she had apologized to me? I racked my brains and found I couldn't remember. Mum apologized again, and then went through the old guilt routine you always find in books; and god knows I've read a lot of them, but it just seemed so weird, even though her little speech was nothing new to the biggest bookworm in the year. "Come back to me" she ended, voice pleading and remorseful. "Come back and we can make everything better."

Huh? Her words suggested she knew, but how could she? I guess Lizzie must have told her. Her words saddened me, though. I knew that no-one could fix my sorrows.

Suddenly, there was a quiet knock and a door opened. A person walked in, and I instantly recognized my father's heavy tread.

"Dana." Oh, his voice did wonders for me. Although he, too, sounded tired, his rich baritone reassured me that he would take care of me. My mother was my best friend, but my father? He was my idol.

"Mike... I" Mum again, her voice, if possible, more weary than ever.

"Shh, shh, it's okay." I heard my father reassure my mother, and for the first time in my life, my mother sobbed openly, her cries muffled and thick.

I was shocked, and I don't think anyone would have been surprised. My mother was naturally the strong one of the family, even if my father was the head. She had an iron determination and never failed to be there for anyone in need.

I heard more shushing as my father supposedly led my mother out, but I barely heard it. All I could think about was how I was tearing my family apart. Suddenly, I wanted very much to be able to wake up before it was too late, and right the wrongs that I had created.

First though, I resigned myself to a long night (or maybe day?) and tried to lull myself to sleep. It didn't work, so after ten minutes or so, I gave up and ended up playing mental games with myself.

Finally, somewhere amongst the horizon of my mind, the same tug I felt every night and I went gladly, drifting off to oblivion.

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