If Only

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What are dreams but pictures in our head, showing us things that aren't real; lying. In our dreams, we could be flying, dancing from cloud to cloud, gliding with the birds, witnessing the amazing landscape and watching the clouds change from the blinding white of day to a magnificent mixture of red, yellow and gold of the sunset.

We could be swimming in the ocean, unassisted and breathing, staring in awe at the fish swimming in their spectacular realm, bursting with colour and life!

Although, if dreams were reality, then life would be a dream. Most of us would love to live our favourite dream, but if we did, but would not be a challenge. What are dreams really, but lies?

Dreams can also be a blessing. They take us to these wonderful, imaginary worlds or places. If it weren't for dreams, where would people get ideas for any of the wonderful books or amazing movies. Also, if it weren't for dreams, our imaginations wouldn't be as wonderful and advanced as they are. Without our imaginations, everyone would just be separate entities, plain empty shells that are just mere imitations of life!

“If only life would work!” I mumbled into my pillow. Every day was horrible. Well, every day I saw her. I would walk six kilometres to school every day, my bad weighing down on my shoulders, headphones in my ears. If anyone dared ask what I was listening to, I would always say “Paramore” or “Panic! At the Disco”, but the truth was that I really had nothing playing. Walking to school was my relaxation time. I would tune out of the world. Pray to God that next time I crossed the road a car would skid around the corner and smash into me. And that if that happened, I would let myself die.

But every day I would make it to school. My body wouldn't be lying in the middle of the road, attracting attention, it would be continuing on its way to school. I would survive. I'd get to school, and into class. I would see her, just sitting there. Three metres away. Talking to one of her friends, laughing at their jokes. No one would notice as I walked in the door, late, as always. I would walk across the classroom and take my seat in the back right corner. Sitting on one of the hard grey chairs behind one of the plain, dull desk. The only reason anyone would notice me was if someone came and sat down, right next to me. But no one did anymore. On the slight chance that someone did come anywhere near where I was sitting, I would glare at them until they left. Everyone knew that my glares were like daggers. I would overhear people talking about it, saying that their bodies would feel like ice, goose bumps would appear on their skin and make them shiver.

. . .

I looked down at my arms, staring with blurred eyes at the red lines that marked my skin. A teardrop splashed down and landed on one of the cuts, diluting the fresh dark red blood and causing it to run off my arm and onto the white sheets. I looked out of my window to the clear blue sky and magnificent turrets in the clouds

My tears ran down my face as I sat up and looked around. I stood up, selected a random book off my dull bookshelves, sat down on my bed and started reading. I stayed sitting there in that exact position for about an hour, before I realised that I hadn't even turned the page yet. More to the point I didn't even know what the title of the book was. I hadn't taken in a word of the whole book so far. I stood up and let the book drop at my feet. I stepped over the multiple piles of various items on the floor and stepped out of my room into the empty dining room. I was home alone for the next 3 hours, until 4:30pm. I walked around the house a bit, bending down to pat my dog, Andy.

I heard someone knock on the front door. I walked downstairs and looked out the window to see who it was. There was no one. I went to open the door but some sixth sense told me to stop. I spun around. My heart skipped a beat. A young woman was standing behind me. She looked like she was maybe 3 years older than myself, about 20 years old. I blinked in shock, and took a step back, straight into the open door. I didn't remember opening the door... I stumbled over the threshold and into what I thought was my front entrance, but it wasn't. Instead of having four dark grey pillars as the entrance, they were deep black, and the door was no longer wood, but a sharp white marble.

I fell down several steps, and scraped my knees on the gravel at the bottom. It felt like a nightmare, something that I was very familiar with, but ten times worse, because I knew it was real. I don't know how I knew it was real, but it definitely was. The pain was real, and the blood running from my arms and knees was a proper blood red. I tried to stand, but there was a physical force preventing me from rising. I moved my eyes frantically around, and turned my head. Still no one. I looked up to see something hovering above me, supported by the same type of force that was keeping me on the ground. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, I couldn't even tell if it was human!

I woke up. I couldn't remember anything. I couldn't remember my own name, I couldn't remember my family members name or anything. I could remember my dogs name though. Andy. I took in my surroundings. I was in a plain room. White walls, simple cane furniture. A chair, a two seat couch and a bed. But there was something out of place. Paintings covered the walls, but they were unearthly. Nothing like anything I'd ever seen. They were all brightly coloured, but as I watched they changed positions. The colours dulled and the pictures switched, slowly fading into each other. “What is this place?” I said to myself.

“He's awake!” a females voice said. She seemed happy, almost ecstatic, and it seemed as if it was for me. “Don't move. It'll only worsen your condition.” She continued.

“What “condition”,” I asked. She replied saying I was suffering from severe hallucinations and that I had to stay with them at this safe-house for about 3 days.

“We should just tell him now. It will save him weeks of bullshit,” a mans voice mumbled, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Who are you guys! I've been shoved in here, I don't know who I am, let alone what's actually happening around here!” I exclaimed, “I don't particularly feel very well here!” I went strangely dizzy, I never went dizzy, which made it even more unusual. Then I remembered. I remembered the cutting earlier that day, and falling down the stairs. I looked at my arms and saw that they were clean, the cuts just thin lines on my pale skin, and my knees were completely normal, as if nothing had happened. The two people were arguing, and then, amazingly, I was back at home, but it was a Monday morning. A normal day. I remembered everything, except for what had happened yesterday afternoon.

I heard my mum walking towards my room. I lay back down to cover my arms, where the cuts were still there.

“Wake up!” She yelled at me.

“All right, all right. I'm getting up.” I replied sleepily. She left the room, and I stood up. I got dressed, made sure I had my jumper on, even though it was twenty-five degrees outside. I ate breakfast, got everything ready for school, picked up my iPod and phone, and started on the walk to school. I felt like I was having a good day today, and as I put my headphones in my ears, I put some music on. It was Panic! At the Disco today, and I started humming along to the lyrics.

I got to school, and my mood was ended. She was standing there. I should have known. But she seemed unhappy. She averted her eyes and turned her head away. I heard mutters around me, talking about me.

“That Robert kid. He's just standing there. I think he was looking at Ailish,” I heard a boy in my class saying. I'm amazed that he actually knew my name. I walked off to my locker, got my books and walked to class. As usual, I went to sit down in the back corner, but my spot was occupied, by none other than Ailish Cooper. I looked at her eyes. They were a bright blue, like the sky, and red-rimmed. I realised that she'd been crying. She looked up and met my gaze, and I swear I saw her smile. A sad smile, only for a second, but it was there, and it was for me. I think she finally realised how it felt to be me.