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I felt like I was being followed. Again.

The same dream over and over again. It's like I cannot catch a break even when I am sleeping. This time, I am walking down that bougie-gothic stairwell. Perfect for making some transition reels on Instagram but in reality--or my dreams? Way too spooky then I would like to admit.

I am wearing that white gown again. Always white. Painted in red. I can feel the blood seeping into the sweetheart neckline of the gown. How? I have no idea. So much blood is spilt every time I have one of these dreams. The setting always remains the same. An empty courtroom, a ruined garden, somewhere by a still lake, in this god-forsaken stairwell or worse yet--in that bedroom with the heavy doors. Doors that I cannot open even when I try my hardest. Trapped in a room. Alone. Or at least I hope I am alone in such a strange dream. I would shit my pants in reality if someone popped up from the many shadows and screamed Boo at me!

And then I feel the mist swirling, time to wake up. In all these dreams that I have been having since my fifteenth birthday, the only common thing is the way I wake up – in the mist. A mist so thick and suffocating that it makes me miss the shadows.

It always feels like an out of body experience when I wake up. I always know that I am dreaming and so when I open my eyes and welcome back reality it feels like I missed something important. I don't believe in the dreams have a meaning bullshit but the frequency with which I am having these dreams always makes me wonder...what if I am not understanding the purpose of these dreams.

With waking up comes the thirst, I can feel my throat parching, I never knew what thirst feels like until I have one of these dreams and then I cannot have enough. Enough of water or orange juice, diet coke or anything I can get my hands on. The one time I did stop was when I drank one of Alec's protein shakes. Those kale shakes can make me hurl on an empty stomach. I have no idea how he drinks them.

My tank top is wet and my bedsheet is a mess. I keep tossing and turning whenever I have one of these dreams. Agh! Enough of it already.

I am thirsty again and looks like my water bottle didn't make it to my bedroom today. I was too tired after my run tonight to pack well for the night. Feeling boneless and groggy I stretch my limbs a bit to bring back movement in my arms. I have marks on the insides of my palm. They didn't bleed much this time but I have woken up to blood on my bedsheets before when I pressed too hard. I need to file down my nails and maybe get a manicure? I'll ask Rachel for an appointment.

Looking at my wall clock I realize it's just after 3 in the night. Great! I don't want to go to the kitchen for water but I really cannot afford to procrastinate anymore. It feels like I have been screaming for hours. I slept after midnight though. Moments like these make me wonder if I should take Kat's advice and visit a therapist. At least I'll get enough ammo to drug myself to a dreamless sleep. Not going there. Nope. This is a moment of weakness and this too shall pass. Or God help me.

Now, let's gets hydrated.

Where r u?

OMW. Reaching in 10. Wbu?

Waiting 4 u @Sams

Grt will c u der 

Rachel Davis, my best friend from high school and almost-roommate at college is waiting for me at Sam's Pizzeria to grab a bite before we go out and meet the other Rachel—Rachel Smith, another friend from high school for a manicure appointment. They have the same names but their personalities couldn't have been farther apart. While Miss Davis is the perfect sweetheart with blonde hair, blue eyes and a genuinely awesome personality, the other Rachel walks around as if the world has offended her. While Davis and I moved away for college, she was here in town, working full-time at Marilyn's Saloon and Spa. She has a younger brother to support and a mother addicted to crack, so yeah, life has definitely not been fair, and the world has indeed offended her. Continuously.

The 'College' Rachel is back in town for a break before the next term begins and we decided to catch up today before she heads back. I am not going back this semester. I practically dropped up mid-sem already, and my parents aren't forcing me to go back or anything. So I will be sticking around for a while. However long it might take me.

I really need some fun time with my girls. I smile to myself as I spot Rachel. Here goes nothing.

I feel like I am being followed. The feeling isn't something new but I am not in a dream this time. I spent a lot of time with Rachel today eating Pizzas and hurling fries at each other before going to Marilyn's for a manicure and kind of lost the track of time.

Rachel, the spa girl, did offer to drive me home but I wanted to get a head start and she had another hour or so before she could leave. I should have stayed back or booked myself a cab. I grew up believing that I of all people wouldn't end up as a cliché but here I am – walking alone at night on a deserted road. It's pretty spooky, to be honest. I remember making fun of all those chicks in movies who pulled this but honestly it feels like this was unavailable. Me walking alone on this road tonight.

Squaring my shoulders I exhale deeply. It's fine. I'm fine. I've got this.

I kept looking back, waiting for someone to jump me. It doesn't help my case when I get paranoid like this. It causes unnecessary panic attacks that I cannot waste my breath on.

Breathe in. Breathe out. What was the mantra again?

Five things I can see? My shadow. The pavement. The streetlight. Houses. Cars.

Four things I can touch? My nose – it feels cold. My hair. My shiny nails and my throats, ah, I feel thirsty.

Three things I can hear? My footsteps. More footsteps. Sound of the night.

Two things I can smell? Rachel's perfume on me and nail polish.

One thing I can taste? My fear.

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