Another nightmare. It continued to repeat itself. Every night I awoke with a gasp and a cold sweat. Each night it had grown increasingly darker. Every detail engraved in my mind. This being of darkness, wrapping itself around me. Disguised as me. Or was it a nightmare? I couldn't feel what was truly reality or a mere dream. How it felt so real and yet, so fictional.

      The digital clock read four blinding numbers: 12:01. One minute past midnight. One minute past three hours of staring into darkness. And why? Was it the thought of loneliness? Or perhaps the fear of not belonging? It may well be the looming feeling of sadness. No. This feeling had been deeper than any sadness. A feeling of hopelessness and utter despair.

     12:05. Five minutes past midnight. Five minutes past a year of a thousand tears. Why cry? Such a petty thing to do. No longer was I a child. Shedding tears is a thing only children get to do. I suffered no scrape from a fall. And yet, something continued and had brought streams to my cheeks.

     The television sat in the background, it played yet another broadcast. No matter how long I had tried, the television just wouldn't cut it. There was no sign of have distracted these thoughts. Repeatedly they crept through my head, they blocked what seemed like everything. No matter what I had tried, they never subsided. Am I to be forever burdened with them? Surely there'd been a way for them to be terminated.

     For each thought there was a pool of tears. And for each pool was wasted time. Nobody cared, nor do they need to. I'm broken. I'm unworthy of attention. Surely nobody cared. I couldn't even figure out why I had cried. Nobody wanted me. I am not needed for anything.

     Eyes puffed and dotted with redness, I crept my way down the staircase. Each step seemed bigger and bigger. It seemed as if time had come to a halt. And still, clocks ticked and minutes passed. The world continued on. So then I knew, it can continue on without me.

     As I concluded my journey to the kitchen, abruptly I paused. The light from the room behind shone onto the window. Just barely a reflection could be made out. Th-this could not be. That person, no, that thing is not me. It's just some beast. An emotionless being who cared for nobody. It didn't belong. And I could be the one who terminated it.
    

     At first, I was unsure. Why had I come downstairs? What force had brought me? Though I questioned my motives, my body still moved. Each step I took was closer to the drawers. A spatula. A spoon. A straw. Yes, here it was. The sharpest of them all. Even though I had made a clear decision, there was no reasoning behind it. Yet another puddle.

Now I know: it was reality.