Inspired by Fondu Au Noir by Coeur de Pirate (French artist - I recommend you listen to the song)
The dream world is a complicated place. It displays ones desires as well as ones biggest fear. Both horrendous as well as stunning. In this place, this dream world, everything changes. The line between reality and fantasy fades and creativity bursts. And for Clare Edwards, it's an escape, with nothing but what she desires. Because none of her nightmares can match up to the horrors of her everyday life.
In these dreams, the love of her life doesn't walk away from her. In these dreams, her father doesn't beat her. In these dreams, her sister was never raped. Everything was perfect and nothing would hurt her. She was once again the five year old tucked in her mother's arms as she told the young child a story. Her dreams consisted of sweet memories warped into her fantasy.
She'd be back in the park with the boy of her dreams, and he'd returned her affections. They'd kiss, much like she's seen in the Disney movies. And everything would be right in the world as his imaginary lips met hers. And later, she'd introduce him to her parents. They'd smile and greet him as a happy couple - because her desire was for her parents to love each other again. During dinner, they'd ignore the kids while making kissy faces and her father would whisper sweet words to her mother. All the while, as Clare would dream, a smile would crawl onto her face. One that would only appear as she slept.
But nothing lasts, Clare would know. Because at the end of a wondrous dream, she wakes up, and reality slaps her in the face. A cold, heartless that melts and chokes her. Like she's drowning in her pain, clawing through the water to break to the surface. And she suffers this terrible pain as she starts her daily routine up until her head hits that pale pink pillow.
Through the day, the feeling gets worse, much much worse. Randall Edwards would be sleeping on the couch, Clare ignoring the beer bottle just out of her sleeping father's hand. At the thought of the hand, she cringes, imagining the violet actions that led to the bruise on her upper-arm. In desperation of escaping, the girl would run out the door and out into the thick air.
Outside stood the boy she loved, her unrequited love. He'd smirk, thinking she was rushing to see him. But why would he care? He told her he wasn't interested in her, nothing more than a friend. Shallow, maybe? Thinking that, though he didn't love her, he had Clare wrapped around his finger.
She'd stay quiet, flashing a small in consideration to his empty 'hello'. And the rest of the day she'd drown in the pain that no one noticed she had. Not her best friend, not the love of her life, not even her parents who were behind all the pain. So she sucked up the pain, the agony, the drowning sorrow. And wait for the dreams that made everything better. Even just for a little while.