I hab a coud

... and that's all I'm going to say before going back to sleep.

*hyperventilation*

I hate being sick. I hate having nightmares.

I think nightmares reveal what we're truly afraid of. So what am I afraid of? Loss of control, especially when it's forced on my by others. In other words: being stolen from, being tortured, being raped. Falling is nothing to it.

I hate the fact that sore throats make it hurt to cry. I hate not having a comforter, someone who can ask me what's wrong and hold me and just listen. I hate being helpless. I hate being alone. I hate nightmares.

I wish I hadn't had that nightmare just now.

It was set in something like a cross between a mansion and a hotel. I knew it was home. And people just kept on being able to break in, like security was nothing. Things would go missing. Doors would be unlocked. And then there'd be a scare, and somehow I'd always be near them whenever they were testing for bombs or trying to shut them off before it was too late - usually with less than a minute and a half to spare. And then someone stole the information off my mother's computer. And we started finding all of our paintings hidden behind strange things, but also weapons and rope and stuff like that. I was pretty sure that they'd come back for me next time. And I was so scared I said I wished I didn't want to live in that world. And I meant it. but I was stuck.

I just want someone to hold me. But I know that, although this world isn't as bad as that one (at least, not for me), it's probably not going to happen.

I want to go home, but I don't know where home is.