A/N: The long awaited chapter 3! Okay, well it wasn't very long, and it wasn't much awaited either. Um...oops? ;) So she woke up after she fainted in the last chapter and...now here we are. Hopefully there aren't any mistakes, and hopefully it's as good as the previous, but I still think I did a good job on this. And remember- don't hate, appreciate! Rhyming is really fun, even if I'm bad at it. Ah, anyway, please read this and then review! Please!
Dreaming in Colour
I was scared. Quite often, in fact. But never like this. This fear had settled deep into the pit of my stomach and burrowed itself into my brain. It was like a disease, consuming me while my mind stood back to watch. My freedom had dissolved, blown away by the sheer force of this fear. It was a fire, burning my resolve and leaving my willpower at its lowest level. I couldn't tell exactly what it was that caused this feeling, and I hated not knowing. Was it because I was trapped in this white room with simpering doctors that don't understand me? Was it because I felt so alone after that accident five years ago? Or was it because I saw him, in real life, living and breathing and coming to save me again? Perhaps it was a combination of all three. Still, there was a new feeling that I had, that I couldn't identify. And I think...was that the one that caused my fear? It was crazy- living, feeling so alone, and yet, right now I know nothing of myself. It's as if I'm a stranger, and I, being who I am, scare myself. I don't know who I am, and when you reach that point when all you have is yourself, that feeling is highly unwelcome. I'll be strong, if I can stand it. I hate pretending.
It was certainly odd, seeing him here. He was alive, and real, not just a figment of my imagination. I feel as though I conjured him up from my mind and made him real. The strange thing about this is that when I was in my coma and also when I fainted, I dreamt of him. He came, so kind and warm like a stuffed teddy bear, and he woke me from the nightmare I was living in. But...I don't know who he is. It's a bit different, being around your hero when you don't even know why he's your hero. I wonder if I'll get used to it. I certainly hope so.
I remember when I was a little girl, my parents would read me bedtime stories every night. I loved fairytales, and I somehow convinced myself that one day someone would write a story about me. I would be the pretty princess and my prince would come save me. I'm slowly realizing now, however, that being the damsel in distress is a lot more fear and a lot less fun than I remember it to be. When you're waiting for someone to save you, you don't just sit back and watch it happen. No, you use everything in your power to get rid of whatever problem you're facing. In fact, you don't even know that you have someone out there fighting for your life. I don't think that I will ever be that princess. No, I know. Princesses always had such easily solved problems- wake her up with true love's kiss being the most common. But mine, it's impossible. You can't erase the emotional trauma, nor the tragedy I faced. While I wasn't the one who caused it, I'm the only one who can fix it. I have no room for my knight in shining armor, I have to save myself. Fairytales are cruel; Happily Ever Afters don't exist.
Why do people write stories such as fairytales? Do they find some sort of pleasure in reading about unfortunate females that always end up with their prince? Are they so desperate that they have to read about unrealistic scenarios to feel as if they have a chance at love? What happens will happen, there is nothing you can do nor say; you are just a pawn in a bigger game.
If everything in this world were a fairytale, I would surely cry out. I hate the frustration of everything acting as a cliché book and ending up perfect at the end of each day. I hate wishing that my life was unfair, but it's the flaws that make life whole and worth living. Imperfections make it perfect in its own way, right? That satisfaction is alright to feel, isn't it? Should I even ask permission to feel anything at all?
I quietly looked at the rain pounding the flooding earth through my window. It was steady; always there. Even if it doesn't always rain, when it does I feel like I can do anything. I don't have to worry about anything holding me back. My heart belongs with the rain. My music is the sound of the rain. It's all I remember that day the accident happened. The raindrops are my tears that I just can't cry anymore.
It still hurts. Will it ever go away?
A/N:There we go! And I alsmost forgot- today is the 25th of December, so Happy Holdiays everyone! Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, or something else, I hope you had a good year. On that note, Happy New Year! I should have written a little more holiday-oriented chapter, but I don't want anyone to feel left out or something because they don't celebrate whatever it is I wrote about. Anyway, do you think that the fairytales are written the way they are because that's how they imagine the perfect love story? I'm still not entirely sure what I think.