The Difference Between Dreams and Reality[CHPT 10]

A/N: I was surprised to see a few requests to further my story! This made me very happy and inspired me to continue to write the story as I see fit. As I’ve mentioned before, if the story doesn’t get any reviews I’ll probably just stop writing it…but I really like it so I’m not looking to stop any time soon. Thanks a lot to those of you who have reviewed me!


Chapter Two: Waiting Madness and A questioning journal!

The mirror reflected all the physical flaws I had. I have to admit, I wasn’t anywhere near ugly. Sometimes I feel as though I can be an ugly person on the inside, though. I’d sometimes think “If I had a scar on my face for every sin I’ve committed this year, you wouldn’t be able to see I had skin.” Maybe I’m the only person who thinks this way.

I’ve only been thinking like this since that night. It had been two weeks since the night I met with the stranger in the storage room. I often find myself peeking back to that room just in case I might come across him again. Maybe part of me wants to seem him again. I know my lips do, at least.

That one kiss messed with my mind so much. I feel as though I was cheated in a way. He knew me, my name, my age, my school...lots. But I didn’t even see his face or know his name. I’m trapped in a land of questions.

Does he attend my school?
What color is his hair?
Do I know him but not realize who he was?
Am I going crazy?

All questions that can’t be answered. So I’ve decided to start a new journal. This journal is a lot different than all the other journals I have ever written in my life. I’ve kept a journal since my tenth birthday when I first received one. Journaling is what I’m best at, besides acting, that is.

This new journal will be a journal of questions. That’s all. No answers. Just questions. Maybe writing down all my questions might someday inspire me to search for the answers. For now I’ll just write.

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Entry 1:

Why did God make only two genders?
Is abortion really wrong?
Do animals go to heaven?
Who invented kissing?
How long will I live?
If people had the technology, would they live on mars?

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I decided to start off with a lot of basic questions; questions that I find to be very hard to answer. At least for me, they’re hard.
“Thinking can really take a lot of energy,” I sighed aloud. Closing my journal of Questions I crawled into my mountain of pillows and blankets and drifted into an endless sleep.

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No alarm went off. Instead I awoke to my friends Hannah and Darcy at my bedside telling me something about a duck. I guess I was still dreaming because apparently(as I was informed later), I had smacked Darcy’s nose like it was my alarm clock and said “five more minutes.”

When I was actually functioning I took a shower and then hit the closets with the girls. It was a shopping Saturday for us, and we had to look good. Darcy is really lucky. She was born a natural blonde with great boobs. Not to put it in too much of a weird way, but having boobs like hers isn’t that common for skinny girls. I’d be jealous, but my boobs aren’t as small as some, so I’m thankful, if anything.

Hannah has short hair. It’s choppy and cut in many different lengths and dyed black with hot pink in various shades on her head. It actually looks like art, which is what I’d say describes Hannah best; art. She can draw and dance and act and sing…she’s like the real deal. I used to really think she’d be famous one day, but no matter how I look at it that girl is going to be the first of us to get married and settle down. It’s a shame to think of it like that, though. Hannah is still going to be Hannah, married or not.

Compared to the two of them, one being a masterpiece and the other being a babe, I’ve always felt a bit too ordinary. I’m not some knock out girl who makes the guys drop their jaws and I’m nothing to get jealous over, either. I have ordinary clothes and an on the smaller side of the scale, but I’m nothing special. I feel like one day I might be special to someone, though. Like a role model, or something. That keeps me going.

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As I trailed farther into my thoughts I looked up and snapped myself back to reality.

“Melissa, wear this one,” suggested Hannah with the tone of a sex goddess. Her humor never got old to me.
“And these pants! Oh my God you’re going to look hot!” flared Darcy in her “fashion-model” tone.

After about ten minutes of deciding, I left the house wearing a black T-shirt with graffiti on it saying things you couldn’t quite make-out, but knew were defiantly something cool and a pair of tight legged dark denim jeans. My shoes were ballet flats with a simple black and white theme. I grabbed my bag and dashed out the door with Hannah and Darcy.

One great thing about having Darcy as a friend is that she’s not just really reliable, but is also extremely rich. On her sixteenth birthday she instantly got a red car(don't ask me what kind it is...just the really shiny expensive kind. I'm an actor, not a car dealer). I was jealous, but defiantly grateful because she will drive me where ever I want to go and instead of looking like I'm running from the scene of a crime, as I do in my car, I look like I might actually be able to belong to her lifestyle...maybe just a little.

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“I’m not sure,” I began. “Maybe it’s a little too...revealing.”

“No such thing!” countered Darcy. Darcy and her fads, she must have figured out by now that fads are not always the best looking things ten years down the road. She was lost in a world of trends, and unfortunately sucked me in a long with her. And Hannah wasn't helping at all. she was just as into it as Darcy ever was....okay, maybe not quite AS into it. but they both had a passion for...well, fashion, of course.

“It is a little sluttish,” stated Hannah in an honest but not rude tone. She had always known how to put things into perspective.

I passed looks in-between the two of them and decided to purchase it. I had bought a bikini; my very first bikini. It was a simple black with blue and pink polka dot print. It looked good, but it didn’t feel the same. I had always worn a huge T-shirt and jean shorts when I went swimming. This year I felt a bit more daring and thanks to “peer pressure” I truly bought a bikini.

I told them to meet me at the coffee shop down the road while I tried on a skirt and top I had spotted just after the purchase. I needed some self-evaluation to decide whether or not the skirt and top suited me. I didn’t want their opinions blocking my own.

I headed back to the dressing rooms only to find the lady who gives you a room was gone. I decided to take a room anyways. I chose the first room, but unfortunately It was locked. “Damnit,” I swore aloud under my breath. There were no other available rooms and I wanted to be in and out fast so I could meet up with Hannah and Darcy. Making them wait never made me feel satisfied. I never had liked people waiting on me.

The only other place I could change was a closet. I thought I must be crazy to do it, but I decided to change in the closet despite my gut telling me I’d get in trouble. 'It wouldn't be the first time I'd been in a closed, dark place' I thought to myself with a small smile.

Turning the doorknob it opened easily and swiftly with the slight push from my fingertips. I slipped in and turned on the small light. It wasn’t too big from what I saw but it was big enough.

I pulled off my pants first. Unbuttoning them slowly and then pulling them off completely. I felt a little relieved to be out of such straight legged and tight pants and I could feel the air around me without them clamping around my thighs. I leaned against the wall and pulled the skirt over my hips; a perfect fit.

I removed my top and bra like a professional and then I fell a bit to the side as I leaned against the wall and the lights went out, I had bumped the light switch and it had been pulled down with me as I slumped to the floor. In any normal case, my first instinct would be to turn on the lights, but I didn’t this time. I knew the door wasn’t locked. I knew the light switch was right next to me...and yet there I sat. alone. In the darkness. And no stranger and no strangers lips were going to come and sweep me off my feet.

“Where are you?” I asked. “Are you in here too? Do you see me now, or am I making it all up?”

I started to cry silently. How could I cry over someone I never truly met? This person could be my worst enemy for all I knew, and yet I couldn’t stop the tears. I felt lost again. Only this time, no lips came to lead me to the light and out the door.

“Why haven’t you come back for me?” I said in a small cry.

My tears started to dry up and I sat in the dark, alone, for a long while until I figured my friends must be looking for me. No one came and instead of feeling relieved I felt like I was failed. Like the mad who had once come for me in the dark had let me down some how.

I threw my own clothes back on and decided not to purchase anything as I walked out of the closet and found my friends. They were getting really worried, as I suspected. They didn’t ask anything, I think they could tell something was wrong and I pretty much killed the mood.

I felt like an idiot for dreaming about some guy I didn’t really know, but I felt more passion than any other feeling of stupidity or foolishness. And passion has always been the main factor in my life that keeps me going.

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When I came home after a long day of shopping and self-reflection in a closet I just hopped on my bed. It was all ready pretty late and we had spent the entire day shopping. I didn’t bother to turn off the T.V. and remove the remote from my mom’s hand or toss a blanket on her. I just ran to my room.

My brother wasn’t home, as usual so I wasn’t facing any possible disturbances so I took out my questions journal. I took it out and wrote.

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Entry 2:

Why didn’t you come find me?
Why did I wait?
Why am I looking for you?
How long will it take?
Can you come tonight?
Will you remember my lips?
Am I thinking too much?
Do you really exist?

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I stopped writing because my tears would smudge the ink. Instead of closing my journal I grabbed it and placed it on my heart and fell asleep in my bed that night with it in my arms.

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When I woke up the next morning I felt a little chill crawl up my spine. I opened my eyes to realize that my journal was no longer in my arms. I quickly jumped up out of my bed and found it laying back on my desk .

I opened it up to last nights entry and it read:

Why didn’t you come find me? I didn’t know where to look
Why did I wait? You wanted to feel the sensation
Why am I looking for you? You have nothing else to look for
How long will it take? As long as you’ll wait
Can you come tonight? In your dreams, I’ll be there
Will you remember my lips? I couldn’t ever forget
Am I thinking too much? Not thinking enough
Do you really exist? As much as you’ll believe I do, I will

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I was shocked. There were replies written in on my entry! He was real and he didn’t leave me. I felt relieved, but more curious than anything.

Sunday started off with a good mood and I prepared myself for another long day.


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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this second chapter. I had a lot more fun with it and actually just let it take me wherever it wanted to go. I hadn't planned for much drama, but what is a good romance novel without drama? If you liked it and would like to see a third chapter please leave me a review. This story will go where ever the wind blows it.

Any suggestions would also be nice. If you'd like to see the story go a certain way, feel free to tell me so.

Thanks a lot!

- Jenna