Summary: Dreams aren't suppose to be real. They are supose to be figments of ones imagination. But what if to some they aren't just a series of images. How long can you stay awake from preventing to go back. How long can you live with out anyone finding out... For Serena Winters life as always been a struggle she can't even find peace in her dreams. She finds herself running from two different realities, how long will it take for her to tire out. (dark fiction)
ATTENTION: this story will be rated for language, dark contents such as (suicide), and sexual content. If you do not like stories with these contents then do not read but this is one of the best fictions I've written. This story has taken years for me to plan out and perfect. I do not have an editor so if grammar mistakes are made please understand unless any of you would like to be my editor, if so contact me immediately. If the story confuses you give it time you will understand it in chapters to come. This is that hardest fic. for me to write so please go easy on me with the reviews... thanks and much love from PR.
Prologue
A Dream the visionary creation of the imagination, something notable for its beauty, excellence, or enjoyable quality. What if to some people is was something more? What if a dream wasn't jus a dream for some people what if it was a reality. That would mean that that person lived in two realities, and what if both caused you pain both physical and emotional? A constant anxiety and terror that tore through your heart each time you entered them.
Eye's wide-open, pupils dilated. She is running so hard, so fast she can't focus one where's she's going. The road seemed to be interminable, and she is beginning to tire. The obscurity deepens the further she went. In an instant, she was on the ground, nearly suffocated. Encouraging her muscles to get up a start running but they were to worn. She began to crawl desperately, as the concrete scraping away at her knees. She felt a sudden sharp pain in her left shoulder. Her trembling head turned to see a large piece of glass through it, Blood drip onto the pavement. She then let out a short cry in pure pain. Using her right hand, she managed to get up on both legs, and she began to walk stumbling every now and then. She could hear whispering and footsteps all around her. She had been walking for several minutes and now her whole left arm had gone numb. She could no longer feel her blood leaving her, spilling out, but it seemed to help not feeling it. She could walk a little faster. As her pace quickened, so did the other footsteps and the whispering got louder. Her walking turned into running and she was back to the beginning.
She had been running for about thirty minutes with the footsteps and whispers on her trail. Then she could see a faint object in front of her. She just kept running for it. The object then turned in to a bush. She ran faster hoping to seek refuge behind it. She finally arrived at the large bush. She ran around it and sat down. Half of her body was submerged in caked blood. She looked at the glass lodged in her body. She grabbed the glass and began to pull. Blood dripped from the palm of her hand. With one final tug the glass slipped out of her. She couldn't help but scream and the blood began to flow out of the wound as if it were a red waterfall. She ripped half of her shirt off to wrap around the shoulder wound then ripped out another piece to wrap around her right hand.
She had sat in that spot for a full hour listening to the silence. Most people don't realize but silence has its own rhythm, its own life, and its own heart. She looked up but could not the see stars; she saw the faint gray from the clouds at night. She hadn't moved an inch in several minutes just hoping for the sun to come up. For it to bring light to the bleakness of this world she was in.
Slowly she began to hear a whispering closing in on her. She struggled to her feet was able to lightly jog away from everything; wanting to find an end to what seemed to be the forever-flowing darkness. Suddenly a faint dot of light glowed in the horizon. The dot quickly turned in to half of a large fireball. The savior of light, the sun had come to challenge the darkness and the truth is it never lost.
Reality is precisely what the name implies, something not artificial, fraudulent, or illusory. If there were to be a person with two realities and the only escape being death; to die in one reality and escaping both should be a blessing. So if death can save that person from the forever inferno why does that person run from it and strive to live?