The loud sound of my breath reverberating over and over again continued in my head. The dizziness that occurred from losing air and inhaling so much of the smoke that it made me feel light-headed. The everlasting noise of the fire trucks along with the ambulance in the distance, the people outside trying to shout and get my attention while I’m gasping for air yet still not having any success.

All I was able to hear was the sound of me close to wheezing while my heart was beating too fast for its own good. While the burning tears were probably staining my skin, continuously shaking. I couldn’t move, not even flinch. Frozen, not able to move a muscle, utter a single word. I was supposed to leave, I could hear my mother calling my name, being aware that I was still in the room. But I didn’t want to leave, I wanted to stay with them.

Before I knew it, I was on the edge of the window. There wasn’t much time left. The building was probably going to explode soon enough, not like I knew that though. Before I even realised, my foot had slipped. There was an agonising pain that went through my body as I landed on only the one leg.

People ran to me, helping me lift myself up. My whole body was numb, I could barely move. Then this loud sound caught my attention, soon after I realised that it was an explosion coming from the house when I looked up. It came from the window I had just jumped out of.

The words “Mom!” suddenly burst out of my mouth, a screeching scream that I never knew I could make. I tried to run back in, but was held back by whoever the person who held me was. Followed by “Dad..”, yet slower, softer. My voice was already gone after all the screaming and shouting that had happened.

In a second, my eyes were open. And I immediately sat up in my bed. My heart was beating so fast, to the point where it hurt. My fast breathing wasn’t helping. All I could do was just cradle my legs, while burying my head into them. I’m not the sensitive type, but I don’t like remembering these things. At all.

Surprisingly, my asthma isn’t acting up. Which is strange.

I don’t really want to think about all that though. I’m not calming down. It would probably be better for me to take my medication, it’s in the drawer next to my bed after all. Will that even do anything though? It takes so long for those to kick in, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes? That’s a bit too long, isn’t it? But if my heart rate doesn’t calm down sooner or later then it can help me with that. But Vivienne told me to take it easy with the medication, so does that mean I shouldn’t take it?

Ah.. I think I’m overthinking again.

Without having a second thought, I slowly got up and went to get a glass of water. If my anxiety was extremely bad right now, then I would have taken it without having something to drink. But considering my throat being way too parched for its own good, I’m going to take it with something to drink so that I can skip the hazard of choking.

After swallowing my medication, I lay back down onto my bed and just close my eyes. Not to sleep, after having that nightmare I probably won’t be able to fall back asleep. Although I’m surprised that I fell asleep, it was also earlier than usual. If I’m remembering correctly, it’s around six in the morning right now, I’m sure this is the usual time that I fall asleep, so how long have I been sleeping then? Maybe my body gave in, since I don’t remember anything from before.

My thoughts went back to what I just dreamt. I don’t have nightmares daily anymore, but every one always seems to affect me badly. I find myself having different nightmares of the same night, but at different times. Always of the one day that I hate the most, I wonder if it’s because of something like trauma? Or because I just hate thinking about that day so much that it makes me feel sick sometimes?

It hurts, a lot. I hate recalling everything that happened, I try my best to forget it, yet I know that I’ll never be able to. Because it was my fault, everything that happened on that day was my fault. Not my parents, not Matthew, it was me. I was being an irresponsible kid, and due to that, they’re dead.

Though I try not to think about these things, it’s not like I ever will stop.

I don’t necessarily want to die, but it’s not really like I want to live either.

I just want to stop having these nightmares. I deserve punishment for the things I’ve done. But if this one thing would stop happening, then it would be a lot better to cope with everything.

Yes, I know that it’s my fault. But if I could stop just something, one simple thing it would definitely be the nightmares that I have almost daily.

If all of that wouldn’t continue anymore then it would make things at least somewhat easier to deal with.