How is any of this real? Magic is supposed to be real? Mythical Dragons are real? Oh and I am supposed to accept I am now a Dragon? That I was transported from my home mundane dimension to this absurd reality where magic and such exist. It does not feel like a dream though. If it were a dream I should have woken up by now.
Am I in a medically induced coma after some horrific event again? But I don’t recall dreaming then? I don’t feel like I am dreaming.
I feel like that line from the Matrix where Morpheus spoke to Neo, That was the first movie I ever saw in a theater. It went something like this: “Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?”
That is how I feel. This cannot possible be real or happening, but what if it is. I cannot just ignore it. Just yesterday I saw most of my friends vaporized, disintegrated, turned into nothing! How can this be real?
I feel a bit like when I had PTSD, if I stop I will never get moving again. I just need to keep moving. Stay busy and not let it all overwhelm me.
I must be in some form of cruel hell though. I keep ending up at Walmart! Their clothing is disgusting. I need to make my own, something presentable. The irony of that thought. Until four years ago all I got were hand-me-downs from my brothers and then issued uniforms after I joined the army. I know I am just trying to grasp onto what I know and can hold onto. One of my therapists taught me that after the incident. Find your center, find something you can control because there is very little we actually control in our lives.
Of course I don’t really believe in much of that crap. I ran around Harlan County from age 14 to 17 carrying two road flares and three, originally six, sticks of dynamite with no realization of the danger. I came across it and it gave me leverage when my brothers wanted to shoot me again. It did give the army recruiters quite a stir when after signing up I asked for a phone call to call their old friend the Sheriff and I went out and handed over the, “Dynamite I had found in the woods that morning to him.” The Sheriff had been buying me lunch several times a week over the years, knew about my family issues and knew the recruiters he had convinced me to go talk to. Still, first day of training when I showed up and all the instructors knew me as Dynamite Girl. No wonder I ended up a Combat Engineer.
Oddly I now think, well not fondly, but practically that all the beatings and abuse I took as a kid are what prepared for me to hold my ground against an assault of over 20 insurgents and a Humvee full of wounded, including myself, from an IED. I held my ground and saved them. I guess in some twisted sort of way I should thank my family for beating the living crap out of me every day as a child. Naw.
The point is… I want this to be come crazy dream but I have had so much “coincidence” happen in my life. I know it is not. This happened for a reason. Now what?
Oh, and why does this place never get dark?
And as for Bucky… Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. The looser friend of mine who cannot even win one single amateur hockey bout without getting pummeled to near death. I do think he is smarter than he lets on or has some sort of secret. No idea what but “boys and their secrets.”
God I hope Jordan calls. I hope she does not think I snuck out but I had to make it to Jacks on time for the meeting. I really hope she calls and it is more than a one night stand. I really do not want to sleep in that loft, I hate it! I hate it! Well it is better than the dirt bunker under the fallen tree I lived in after my brothers shot me and I crashed his truck and put them in the hospital. But I still hate it! I have gotten so spoiled the last four years.
Now I sound shallow. Ok reality check, I am being shallow. But it was supposed to be a one night stand, I barely even caught her name. Not even sure if she caught mine. Ok, now I feel like a slut. I hope she calls so we can try to have a real date. She was really hot.
If Bucky sleeps in my bed again after that monstrosity of a bed he insisted on buying. I have just the thing.
No! Not Walmart again! I am in hell.