But Life's No Storybook

Derek and I were walking down the road to the local hub-bub of my little town that I can barely call a home of any sort. It's night time, the sky omitting a fearfully oppressive radiance in the form of utter and complete dream black. There's no hint of stars, no sign of clouds, just a black as thick as a mountain. The landscape is just as I remember it as I look around, getting my bearings, though knowing exactly where I'm going. I can see the old farm that everyone said was haunted but I was too afraid to go explore, and we pass the tire store, closed up for the night. The roads give off a silent abandon, no cars inching to or fro, no one with destinations, all too sensible to be out so late. Derek and I are holding hands as we walk, swaying in perfect ryhthm with each other, which is strange, because Derek hates holding hands when we're walking. He insists on just rushing to a destination, he's not one for just enjoying the walk itself. As we near the plaza, the stop lights shining and shimmering in the distance, I see a figure approach, hooded and dark. I almost know something bad is gonna happen, that's how it is in dreams isn't it? But it always has to play out, right until the finish. "Give me your money," this figure says, and as he's right in front of me, it dawns on me that I know him. "Bob? What are you doing?" I say. Bob was my drug dealer when I was in a hard time, although by now I imagine him to have already been arrested. I haven't heard from him nor heard about him in almost three years. He tells me to shut up, and in a last moment exploit, Derek's in front of me. I can see the sparks from the gun as it's fired, but there's no sound, just silence. I'm shaking, I'm scared, and with Derek on the ground extricating profuse amounts of blood, I'm crying. Is it realization, reality maybe? Could this have really happened, could Derek really be dead? I see the sparks again and I'm on the ground next to him. The sky bursts open into a kaleidoscope of colors, not one is the same as the one before it. And I wake up. I cry, trapped under the feeling that I may yet lose him, not just to tragedy, but to everything as the world moves.

 

Does anyone else wish if maybe just for a few short moments, the whole world revolved around the idea that you had to do something to make or break it? Like in fantasy movies and stories, how there's always that one character that bad things happen to because he's that important? I found myself thinking yesterday, as I was reading the final few chapters of Wraeththu that sometimes I wish I was that important. Of course, considering I'm a huge sissy and way too weak for any sort of trial, I'd probably start whining about how much my life sucks because of it within the first two minutes, and then end up failing the mission when I'm faced with Death and I turn tail and run, but still. It shouldn't matter if I'm that important to everyone, this I know, this Derek has told me a million times and a million times again. But for some reason, I find myself striving towards the approvalof everyone I meet. I try to make them happy, try to impress them, and yet everytime I come out empty handed. I've been trying for five years to get my mom to just accept me, to just love me. Sometimes I think hey, I'm a good person, I have a brilliant mind and the wheels are still turning, you should accept that mom, and you should love me for it. And then she says something, and it's back to, God I'm such trash, I don't know why I exist.