August 21, 2006 — age seventeen
(part of a look at the past)

Earlier, I fell asleep, and I wasn’t dreaming, but when I woke up, I had the urge to run. I fell asleep again, and dreamt of words, rather than images, and when I awoke, the words continued to form in my head, so I began to write them down. They’re words that are sad to me, and I hope to never experience this dream in reality.

She lay her frail body against the cool floor of his dark bedroom. Her skin was so pale, and the only light she could see was that of the soft glow rushing underneath the door from the hallway. The shadows swallowed her small body, and for a moment, she forgot where she was. The floor was like ice beneath her and she shivered as he placed his warm lips across her bare stomach. Her breath quavered, and he paused for a moment, looking up at her with questioning eyes. She simply smiled back at him, one of those nervous half-smiles. The room became darker as each moment passed, and she felt more naked than before. He slowly moved his hand behind her head to kiss her quiet mouth, but she was thinking of anything but that. He moved from her lips, and she could feel every molecule in her body screaming. Closing her eyes, she breathed heavily, wanting nothing more than for this to be love.

I still feel the need to write more.

**

I no longer dream of words–or maybe I just don’t allow myself to. I only wish I could, though…