Perspective

Chapter Sixty Six.

Most days I just wish someone would take me away from myself...

That's precisely how I have felt today. I couldn't stand being in my own presence. It made my skin crawl.

It reminds me that no matter how well things may go for me, whatever happy events happen... there's that slippery slope again, the one I get pulled back down.

I'm so tired.

I'm so over fighting my way back up that mountain when the only friend I have with me is the one telling me I'm incompetent and too fucked up to make it.

The joy is starting to feel like a sadistic joke, teasing me with its sudden resurface while knowing my own mind will tear it away.

Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?

How can anyone honestly think a person would choose this fucking existence?

I also felt so fucking guilty. Things had been so good between Harry and I. It had been a couple days since he brought up the whole girlfriend thing, and we'd been doing well on working on everything out with each other - enjoying eachothers company.

Then I ruined it.

My stupid fucking brain couldn't let that last.

I scared the absolute shit out of Harry this morning.

He had picked me up from work last night and we went back to my house with Gizmo, to spend the night together. It was great, it really was. I fell asleep surrounded by blue, content and warm with that feeling of being close to someone. I've become used to the feeling of his rhythmic breathing or the weight of his arm over my waist. The pressure of his chest against my back.

I've become accustomed to the comfort.

But then I woke up.

I'm unsure if what happens to me is technically considered night terrors, or just really fucked up nightmares but I call them night terrors because it's the only description that ever seems fitting.

It feels like it's happening, it doesn't feel like a dream... even after you wake up.

That same woman came back.

I still don't know if I was asleep or just 'woke up' as part of the dream. I don't know when exactly I woke up.

But I do know I laid there for what felt like hours, with my eyes open, completely paralyzed and begging to be able to scream or try to wake Harry up while that woman had crawled her way out of my dreams and into my bedroom.

She was there. I woke up and she was still there. She was real.

She was in my closet. Then at the end of my bed. Then next to me. Then on top of me.

Those same long fingernails... and that stomach churning choked breathing. I could never really see her face but her eyes still haunt me.

She always comes back.

I couldn't move a muscle, yet everything inside my body was frantically trying to move and I tried to make noise while my throat refused to work. My whole body felt like it was led, no matter how much I struggled.

I could feel Harry laying next to me sleeping soundly, I could even see him in peripheral vision but he couldn't help me.

The amount of fear I felt really isn't something I know how to explain, I've never ever been able to really describe that feeling even since I was a little kid.

To this day though, I have never been as petrified or felt that amount of terror in any other moment than I have when this happens.

Then she leaves my room with that same insidious smile... And I know exactly where she's going. I can hear her laughing.