I was born and raised by no other than my elders. They filled the empty void which my biological parents should have taken and turned my into who I am today.

Eyes filled with confusion, I lay there in the rotting earth which surrounds me like a full on storm. Yet, I lay there... Unaware, unable, to hear or help those around me. Their mouths move in painful howls, as stray bullets pearce their prestine white skin, releasing spurts of red liquid. Dampening the ground beneath their feet.

My ears twitch, slowly, surely awakening from their slumber. Bringing along a shrieking sound.

Before long I recognize the voice. My husked tone had morphed. Releasing a high screach. Deep crimson coloured blood speeked out of my ears. eyes and mouth. Yet, still unable to function or move properly. Unable to get any help.

***********************************

"Another dream, same tale..." I think to myself.

The bright summer sun shone through my bedroom blinds adjesant to the old pine door, lightening my mud brown walls and animating the multiple animal plush toys stacked above a gray old T.V. which is rarely used.

Shadows casted from the inanimate objects took on life of their own as the wind blows agains the wooden blinds creating a light low-toned tapping sound.

"♫ One time, one day... ♫" My phone lays on the plastic opaque drawers singing and vibrating. The half empty drawer acted like an amlpifier as the phone still continues to vibrate. Tired from my ever repeating dream I scramble against the upper gray surface in search of the origin of the sound and hit the off button as quick as I can.

Empty minded I lay there, gazing mindlessly at the few posters on my dead walls which surround me from every corner. Repeating the words of the alarm song in my head.

Slowly coming into action like a mummy coming to life, I lift my head, followed by my body into a sitting position on my double bed which I had since I moved into this new, old house, because of my previous bed being to large to fit up the stairs.

Hoping that I had slept for atleast eight hours, I pick up my elongated flip phone with my left hand and press the volume button. The pink shaded LED light and displayed "06:28" on it's small back screen.

I groaned, "It myst be insomnia." I whispered to myself.

Knowing that it was stupid to even attempt going back to sleep, I get up and pull on the gray elasticated cotton shorts and black vest which were displayed on the floor from the previous night where I had taken them off.