I can feel that I'm in a dream, but I can't wake myself up.

It’s too dangerous…I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to him. I wouldn’t be able to bare it. Forgiveness would be out of the question; beyond my ability. I would never be able to forget that the boy I loved was hurt…or worse…because he came to this world. Because of me.

I am ready for battle. I am ready to fight.

Depression is a funny thing. Some days you have the strength to get up out of bed and attempt to live your life as a normal human being, but others…you just don’t want to leave your room and socialize with the outside world—the world that you hate on days like this. You stay secluded in a tiny space, left alone to the thoughts that eat at your brain until you finally sit down and let them be thought.

I jolt up, a scream lodged in my throat. Drops of sweat roll down my forehead and my throat hurts as if I've been screaming for a long time.

My mind screams for me to run, but my feet are planted where they are. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. There’s no way this is real!