Can I get opinions on this writing idea? Here’s a sort of Prologue i came up with. Empty. The space that meets my eyelids when I rest during the night. It’s more then pitch black. It’s lack of color; lack of anything. I experience every second of it nightly. It’s a puzzle. A puzzle i’ve been trapped in every night since birth. But a puzzle i’ve never acknowledged. A puzzle i shrugged off with something my insecure self conscious started telling me when i was 7 years old, 2 months and 2 days. Now it’s been 19 years, 2 months, and 7 days. That’s about 12 years and some days. I never bothered to tell anyone. I wouldn’t be heard and my words would slip through their ears and they wouldn’t bat an eye or think I was nothing more then a small broken child trying to get attention. I came to terms with it by now. The only interaction I receive is with my therapist every week. She listens but I have never mentioned the dreams. At this point they actually scare me as though a nightmare would. Empty dreams for 19 years and some months and days start to become something else when there’s no answer or nothing to blame it on. I started telling myself the dreams just didn’t want me. They had better people to entertain. I’ve gone by that for 19 years, 2 months, and 7 days. The 8th day of the 2nd month of the 19th year changed that perspective. That night it wasn’t black. For a split second, there was a flash of color. A flash that would start everything I endured for the next 17 months and 3 days. I wish it was that the dreams didn’t want to entertain me. I wish it was anything but the truth.

2 years ago

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