Dreamer Girl

1. Sleeping problems.

HUGE WARNING THIS BOOK CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT!!!
Mentions of: disfigured bodies, death, mental illnesses, suicide, self harm, bullying, substance abuse, human trafficking/kidnapping, car crashes, neglectful parents, scary themes, gore!!, gross descriptions of gore and broken bones and such, and talks of sensitive subjects. Please don't read if you really can't handle any of this. Viewer discretion is advised. 

She had seen this one before. The dark forest, the rain, the broken down car. But something was different, this time. She couldn't hear the engine running, ready to rev to life and crush her under the wheels of the 1965 Chevy. She couldn't hear the sound of the thunder in the distance or the sound of the rain. She could only hear the sound of the spine chillingly slow footsteps that she dared not to turn to. The window in the Chevy was cracked and stained with what she could only assume was blood. Her boyfriend lay lifeless in the passenger seat, his eyes opened and focused on her. Her guy twinged as the footsteps got louder and the sound of a branch breaking made her eyes snap up to the path in front of her. The trees were lifeless much like her boyfriend. She could hear the way they groaned and cracked in the wind. Everything was quiet except for the sound of the high pitched ringing in her ears. The sounds of the crash replaying in her memory. This dream definitely wasn't one she was prepared for. Her eyes were wide and alert, looking for some shed of light. Some sliver of ever so fragile hope. But there was none. And the footsteps continued closer. Almost a hundred feet away now. She stepped forward, gripping her injured arm tightly, trying to feel something so she could wake up. But she felt nothing. Nothing as the headlights suddenly flicked on, nothing as she hear a long strangled breath come from what could only be her boyfriend. She turned to be face to face with him. The pipe still impaled in his chest, his neck twisted in a way that wasn't human. His eyes were bloodshot and bloody, shards of glass were scattered all over his body. His body twitched and she heard sounds of gargling to which she couldn't figure out where it came from until she realized he was speaking.
"Why did you let this happen?" He words sounded like sandpaper rubbing against metal. It made her skin crawl. Her mouth was dry and seemed to taste only of blood. His body shimmied as he took a step, revealing a twisted foot and a limb through his calf. Her eyes never left the necklace that stayed intact around his neck, the little silver guitar pick. The footsteps were behind her once again, coming from all directions. This time a tall creature, resembling her disfigured sweetheart but with bloody arms, he almost looked normal. There was no limb from a tree in his calf, no glass shards, no pipe. But his neck was still twisted in a way that made her stomach tie itself in knots. His arms were cut, veins and tendons split open and bleeding wildly onto the forest floor. She swallowed nothing as it stepped closer. Her head was spinning.
"How could you let this happen to me?" It was his voice. Clear as day. Thunder cracked and the car revved it's engine. The car was on the path now in front of her. Her boyfriend standing in front of it, eyes filled with fear. She knew it wasn't really him. She knew this was one of his sick twisted games. But she looked away as the car sped forward, crunching could be heard under the tires. She told herself it was just thunder. She didn't look back at the car. She didn't look up. She just closed her eyes and ran. This was always how it ended. She would run and fall and shed wake up. Just a few more feet and she would fall. But she ran for far longer than usual. Opening her eyes she was greeted with a circle of Neuces around her, swaying in the cold wind. There was silence. Not even the sound of her heart. She'd never seen this before. She felt a warm sensation on her exposed arms and legs, flowing towards the ground. She looked down, cute spelling out words bleeding down her arms. She read them aloud.
"How does it feel to finally get what you deserve?" Her left arm.
"Time is up." Her right.
"Should've been better." Her left thigh.
"Kill yourself." On her right.
The wind picked up as all of the neuses collectively swirled in the air and wrapped themselves around her neck. They weren't tight or loose, they were just there. She saw her family, laughing at her. Her friends, putting L's to their forehead and making crude jokes. Her peers mocking the cuts on her arms. She saw her boyfriend last, but his eyes shone differently. Fear and betrayal, sadness. Tears in his eyes he pulled out a gun, aiming at his temple, letting it rest there as she stood in shock. She reached for him and the neuses pulled tight, just as he pulled the trigger, the ropes snapped her neck.

Waking up in a cold sweat Skylar screamed, eyes opening wide to her dark cold room. Her breathing was ragged and heavy, her anxiety working on overdrive. Not sure exactly what just happened or what it meant. She grabbed her inhaler and took a hit, swallowing hard in attempts to calm  herself. She took another as her breathing started to calm. It had been six months since Trevor-her boyfriend- had gone missing, six months since her brutal nightmares have tortured her sleep. Her mouth was dry and her skin was cold but slick with sweat. The doctors tried to help her. They prescribed her stress medications that could knock out an elephant with a half a pill, antidepressants that made her vomit and pass out, even went so far to give her medicine for schizophrenia (they considered sending her to a psych ward but her parents couldn't afford it). Nothing helped. The only thing that she lived for was the hope that Trevor would come home. The hope that he was still alive. The hope that she didn't really kill him.

1,104 words.