*Bree shoots up from underneath her now crumpled, over starched covers with a scream muffled by her pillows. Her body shivering and shaking completely out of her control.*
*almost a cry, high pitched *
Her dream had sent her into a panic attack. her breathing was rapid, shakey, and shallow. Nothing was in her control with her muscles flexing and unflexing rapidly, in a way so tense that they looked as if they could rip apart her skin at any time. She curled herself into a ball. Biting at the dark blue sleeve of her pajama top and digging her short bitten stubby nails into the skin on the underside of her forearm just to try to keep from screaming. Emotional and physical pain began to overwhelm her the way it always did in these situations. She could never seem to get used to it even though it happened so often to her now. And soon her anxiety shot through the roof as she became terrified.
BREE (THINKING TO HERSELF):
" calm down, calm down, it’s okay, it’s okay! It was just a dream!”
*Bree lets out a quiet groan of pain and her rushed thought process continues*
BREE (THINKING TO HERSELF CONTINUED):
“Why can't i stop shaking!? Why does this always happen!? Stop! Stop! Stop! Please! This hurts so much! I can’t do this! I can’t handle this! Why won’t these nightmares go away?"
the tears start streaming down her face as she starts to see the flash backs of the time her so called “friend” Ricky had pointed that gun in her face years ago. The entire memory was stored like snap shots that were burned into her mind forever. She vowed to herself that she would never tell anyone about that horrific night. Mainly cause she always had felt no one needed to pity her. If she were to be judged it would be by what was happening now and not by her past. That’s what made her work at the somber sober house so much easier. Taking care of addicts distracted her from her past. And let her be judged by who she is not who she was.
BREE (THINKING TO HERSELF CONTINUED):
" NO! NO! NO! i don't want to remember! i just want them to disappear! why cant they disappear!? why cant i just be like a normal person and not have to deal with this shit every night?! every night another nightmare! fuckin kittens, they always show up when the dream turns to its worst. every fuckin’ time!"
for the next hour she lets her body shake to itself to its core. letting the shaking fit just run its course, trying to focus on her breathing, trying to slow it down in counts. Starting out with 1, 2, 3 untill she got all the way up to 7 counts, breathing in and breathing out. eventually she succeeded in calming her mind and her body down to a spasm here and there. holding on to her stuffed tiger she had named Pixy at her 17th birthday party. she let the remainder of her tears fall to her, and she would gently brush them off onto her baby blue comforter, swiping them away as they fell one after another. and she continued to lay like that about 10 minutes just hugging pixy before she felt any control over any part of her. She found herself staring at her light blue walls that were tinted an almost purple color by the black light in her room that kept her fear of the dark at bay.
*she twists to pick up her phone from under her pillow*
*speaking in almost a wispery wine*
*she sighs, lets her head fall back to her pillow as she continues to stare at her phone*
BREE (THINKING TO HERSELF):
"ugh, i have to be up in a couple of hours. and i am so not gonna be able to fall back asleep tonight. I’m not going to be able to function let alone…….."
*suddenly yelling becomes audible from the other room and breaks her away from her thoughts. she peals back the covers and places pixy on her pillow to keep her spot warm. once she walks across her room to the door she quietly opends it just a bit so she can hear whats going on. After taking a deep breath she sits and listens.*
BREE’S MOM: " stop yelling at me for this shit! I can't stop unless you do! Stop barkin' at me about it!"
BREE’S DAD: " and you need to stop drinking 2 or 3 bottles of wine a night before going to bed too! Your just as bad as my mother!"
They are of course arguing over smoking and drinking again.
unfortunately her grandmother that lives in the house with them is a drunk too. The only real difference between bree's grandma and her mom is when those two are dunk, bree can at least tolerate being around her mother and her red wine. but her grandma on her rum, she cant stand being around God forbid that bree’s around her grandma while that women is drunk, because she’s is always commenting on everything that she see’s wrong in bree.
The main reason her parents are arguing however, is because her moms drinking and smoking have gotten progressively worse. Her grandmothers drinking has too. She used to go through about a bottle a week. And now she is at 3 bottles of rum a week. Where as her mom can go through 2 or 3 wine bottles a night. and her mom, dad, and her sister are smokers. she always feels suffocated when she is around them at all. that’s one of the main reasons she wants to move out as soon as she can.
*bree sits on a pile of clothes that she had next to her door*
BREE: "here we go again. lucky Kirsten she never has to listen to this shit."
BREE (THINKING TO HERSELF):
"Of course thats cause she's never home. Lucky her. she has a car and doesn't have to be home to listen to this."
*she reaches over to her night stand in order to reach a silver zippo lighter with a butterfly engraved in it*
BREE: " why can't i just be like you? you can just shut out the world, then fill it with light and warmth that lasts long after your flame goes out.."
*she gets up and walks down the stairs to the bathroom on the 1st floor of the house so as not to disturb her parents. she flicks on the light switch, locks the door, and checks the mirror.*
BREE: " well at least my hair isnt long... i dont wana go around with long hair again. then i'd look just like kirsten...."
*lightly her body gives a shudder at the thought, but she shakes it off*
she never truly looked like her sister in her opinion. but
unfortunately no one else saw that. bree was known as “kirsten's little sister” ever since she could remember. when she was in elementary school she didnt notice as much. she was actually proud of her " bad ass sister". but when she got to middle school her sister was at the peak of her rebelliousness and cast a huge shadow of expectations over her. every one had expected her to be agressive like kirsten but when they saw otherwise the bullying began to get worse than she’d already had it before. she got shoved and locked in lockers, swirleys, verbal harrasment, sexual harrassment, trash can dumped, and of coursethe traditional ass kicking she would recieve after school everday. and it was all because of her sister. either she was mistaken for her, she was too different from her, too weird, or her sister had pissed someone off. And that was the cause of so much tourture in her life for the longest time.
* bree spashes water on her face, then dabs with a towel trying to wash the nightmare away. she stood there her arms bracing her and keeping her from falling to the floor. as the flashbacks came back suddenly, but this time with more vigor. *
*almost a quiet but stressed pleading*
BREE: " fuck! no, NO, STOP! "
tears once again began to decorate her face. it took her everything she had just to stay standing. she felt her body begginging to shudder again as the memories cut through her tough extirior. and even though the tears had started falling. she fought back against them, almost as if she was aftraid she was going to lose herself if she let them flow free. she always felt it weak for her to cry. her dad had told hersince she was verry little to always tough it out and that crying shows weakness. her dad taught her alot of things. when she was 4 he enroled her and her sister in kick boxing which they did together for 6 years. then he moved them on to kenpo for another 2 years, and got bree to continue in tae kwon do for another 4 before she quit when she was 16. every time she cries she can still hear her dad telling her to suck it up. That’s its not that bad. That it means nothing and she can just keep going and it’ll be just fine. She hears him clear like a bell in a silent room.
after her breakdown in the bathroom she goes upstairs where her parents arguing has turned into softer bickering. the floor underneeth the dark green carpet of the hallway creaked and groaned under her weight in protest to her walking around late at night. she slowly made it back to her room and shut the door. In the process shuting out the world from touching her.
And she let heat of depression begin to wash
through her like the poison of betrayal. it was somewhat comforting to feel that wave warmth that depression brought with it. it made her feel as if she was being cuddled. it made her feel less alone, not as afraid. she liked to imagen the overwhelming heat as her soul becoming a flame, warming her from her core. she knows she shouldnt embrace this feeling, but she does and sits there with it till about 8 in the morning. She lets the darkness hug her heart as it eats away at her self asteem and her self respect or at least what little of it she actually has left till there is almost nothing.
*she glances twards her right wrist to look at the scars*
BREE: " if only i didnt have people that would be dissapointed in me i would. wow, i'm more afraid of disapointing other people then actually hurting myself."
*phone alarm goes off and she sits up*
the dayly motions of getting ready for school have become a bit of a pain for her. she finds it harder and harder to pull herself away from the depression as it comes more and more often.
*reaches for her phone to turn off alarm*
Created: Mar 12, 2010Document Media