The darkness around me was something that was so normal by now that I was actually starting to relax in it. Some people might have thought I was crazy. If they did maybe they were right. I had long ago just let go of caring. It didn't really matter anymore since I had been basically shutting myself inside now. I couldn't find a job and as a student fresh out of my second year of college it was deeply frustrating. I guess what I mean by this is that no one really knows what goes on.
I could see three figures seated in chairs. I could not get a look at their faces but these same people where the ones I saw every night. Their faces were never clear to me but that didn't really matter. It was their actions that spoke loudest. They always seemed so still and it was almost like they never moved from their thrones.
Others kept themselves situated throughout the room in an even pattern. Every piece of clothing that they wore had to have at least some variation of a black or gray. It was all too formal to be anything normal. I watched, knowing all too well what was about the happen. My feet were glued to their spot though and I couldn't move. I could only watch as it all continued and I hated it more then anything.
Before I could completely get a good look of the room I heard a door creak open. A women wearing something so much different from the other walked in, holding up her arms and speaking with such a beautiful voice it was enough to make me cringe. As she turned around everything seemed to change. Screams erupted from the humans she lead so casually into the room as they were taken down, one by one.
With a jolt I woke up, not screaming like any normal and rational person would have done. I was by now far too used to what had happened. I was still shaking though and I instantly spun around, looking around the room for anything that was ready to leap out at me. Nothing.
I reached down to the side of my bed and unscrewed the cap to my water bottle, taking brief sip before setting it down and pulling up the notebook and pen that was sitting right next to it. When I did dream of these people I would often write it down. Part of me thought it was sentimental while the other was just doing it so that I knew I wasn't making the stuff up. I skipped through pages of the dreams I had deeply described until I came to a fresh sheet and started to write down yet another one of my so-called odd dreaming spells.
