Late nights are never, ever good for me. I have the worst immune system in the world. Its 12:30 a.m. and I am blogging (not to mention i have a final tomorrow)?? Some would call me stupid, but its my way to survive. Three months ago sleep was the most precious thing to me. Getting 8 hours a night was a top priority, sometimes i even worked in 9 (i know, call me crazy). But just like everything else, that has changed. I don't sleep, and when I do I have nightmares. Sometimes they are classic nightmares and other times they are relating to Patrick
Here are 2 dreams in just the past week (a week in my life):
Classic Nightmare
Here are 2 dreams in just the past week (a week in my life):
Classic Nightmare
The setting takes place in medieval times (yes i was in a gown like one of those princess movies). Everything was going great. The kingdom was running smoothly and I had control over everything. Then the monster came. For those of you that have seen harry potter it was a mix of a basilisk and the monster things in the Avengers, except it was pitch black. This thing was ruthless. All it did for days was haunt my kingdom looking for anyone out in the open for it to pray on. And death by this monster was not a pleasant thing, it involved crushing bones until one died of pain. Every time it flew over, one would have to find something to hide under so it wouldn't see him. But it kept getting smarter and I kept having to run faster and hide quicker. It was one of those dreams that one is constantly running and constantly in fear. Overall exhausting. Except the worst part of the dream was the end. I was given the task to find Patrick and save him from this monster. This was my only and last task, if i couldn't fulfill it then i was a failure and didn't deserve to live. I kept running, yelling out his name, but I could not find him. I looked over the whole kingdom and was getting more and more frantic. My last moment in that dream was realizing that the monster had gotten him, and wishing it was me instead.
Patrick Dream:
Patrick and I were playing Frisbee in the yard. I had a moment where my heart was completely happy and I thought that was my life and my reality was the nightmare. It was wonderful, except the part where I had to realize that it was just a dream. But this one did not stay happy. This car pulled up and out came two men. They started chasing us, and we ran. Patch was naturally faster than me seeing that he was incredibly fit and I started falling behind. These men had this weapon that shot out bullets but once the bullet penetrated your skin there was no saving you, you would die a slow painful death. They were getting closer and closer to me but I could not run any faster. I was willing Patch to get away but instead he looked back. He had a look of intense love on his face before diving at me. I had no idea what he was doing. No Patch, I thought, we are supposed to be running away from them. Tackling me will not help! But i didn't realize he was diving in back of me. I looked back at him and realized he just took a bullet, for me. My heart screamed in pain, knowing what he just did. The men vanished and I held my brother as he died, again. Tears were streaming down my face as I told him I loved him. No patch...you cant leave me! Not again! I can't do this again...why would you do that?? But his face portrayed that he knew what he was doing, and he would do it a million times just to save me. I held my brothers dead body in my arms and just cried. The weird part about the bullet was that I couldn't be with the body for long. It would decompose the body and those around it. Walking away was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and it was just a dream. Seeing him there alone, without even a burial killed me. Although I already died inside when he did (its funny how similar dreams can be to real life). Three days later I get a phone call. It was from a couple that owned a house near the spot he got shot. I answered the phone and they explained who they were. Then the screaming started. "How could you do that to your brother?? You say you loved him? Please, that's not love. You are an awful sister. All he ever did was love you and you repay him like this?! And then leaving him?! Despicable." I ended the dream in tears and woke up with tears. A never ending cycle of pain.
The worst part about the whole thing, I think, is that sometimes I don't mind the nightmares. Just for the beginning. It always starts out Patch and I, just like the last 16 years of my life. For just a short time everything seems normal and happy. I get to talk to him again and hear his voice. I am 10 times more scared of the day that I cant remember his voice than a night of nightmares. My biggest fear: forgetting a single thing about my brother...
