Give It Two Weeks

~chɑptєr օɴє~

You're dreaming Liz, I think to myself.

I have that strange ability to be 'awake' in my dreams. I'm aware of what I am doing in the dream, and I can control it.

I can say whatever I want. Talk to anyone. Be anywhere. I've always had that ability, ever since I was l was young enough to remember my dreams after waking up.

I never knew it was rare, until I began to listen to other people telling stories of their dreams, and none of them ever said anything about being able to control.

In everyone else's dreams, they were forced to go along with it, and wake up when the dream wants to be over.

With mine, I'm able to wake myself up when I'm bored with the dream. Or when I feel like it's time to get up to start the day.

I rarely told people what I had dreamed the night before, I rarely talked. As a child, I didn't like people. I was never able to trust people.

That trait has stayed with me.

I don't really understand why I was never able to trust people.

I grew up in a great house with a loving family. My parents never fought. I still live in a great house with parents who love each other.

All of my grandparents have always lived nearby and they're all healthy, I've had pets to pass away, but I've always had at least one animal roaming the house. I've always had friends.

My life has been the stereotypical 'perfect' life that everyone wishes they had.

But that gets boring sometimes.

Now I'm in no way saying I wish my parents fought, or anything life changing or traumatizing. I just wish I had a little bit of change in my life every once in a while. Something to keep me on my toes. To keep my wondering what will happen next.

That's why I like writing. I want to be a writer when I grow up, or a journalist. I mainly add the 'journalist' title on the end of that because I know my parents would never approve of me being just a writer. They'd want me to have a job that always pays. Writing doesn't pay much, but it's what I want to do for the rest of my life.

Liz wake up, I tell myself during a horrible dream.

In the dream I'm being chased. The people chasing me, I realize, are all of my old friends from elementary school. The ones I never talk to anymore because they all become popular and athletic as I fell behind. They are chasing me with these awful looks of hatred that I know will haunt me for days.

Liz wake up! I tell myself one more time, and it works.

My eyelids flutter open. I focus on slowing my breathing before looking at the clock hanging on my wall beside my bed.

7:15 AM.

I'm about to allow my eyes to close again when I remember something that makes me groan with dread.

Today. I go to the beach. With my family. The only reason they want me to go is for me to meet people to talk to. They think I stay in too much. They would be delighted if I found some guy, not that it would ever happen to me.

"Ughhhh", I moan again as I force myself out of bed.

I run my fingers through my tangled hair as I glance in the mirror. My eyes meet my own in the reflection as I quickly look over how bad my morning appearance is before stepping out of my room.

My tangly, long brown hair is a knotted mess and I dread brushing it out. My hazel eyes look more on the green side today. I smile slightly at that. I can't tell what kind of mood I'm in until looking at my eyes.