A Dream Where Losers Go. | Teen Ink

A Dream Where Losers Go.

March 30, 2010
By Cigg.Sunn GOLD, Avondale, Arizona
Cigg.Sunn GOLD, Avondale, Arizona
12 articles 0 photos 29 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When we were yonger, we used to think dandelions were flowers, it's not until we grew up that we begun calling them flowers. Dandelions never changed. Our standards did."

She was hunched against a wall in the tunnel of light. Brilliance glared everywhere, blurring the difference between floor, walls and ceiling. When she closed her eyes, the inside of her skull lit up like a hundred- watt bulb, lines of light shooting across her aching eyes. Her mind played games with her eyes. Reality escaped from her lifeless fingertips, drawling a fine line between holding on and letting go. Vanesa didn’t comprehend the disparity between yesterday and today, it all seemed to have meshed together into this astonishing shadow. The illusion in her head began to dim, and then eventually became dark. She felt walls closing in, her nails dragged across what was forming to be concrete, below her. Her breath because heavy, and her mind began to race; she could feel him. The boy was there in her mind; she wasn’t alone anymore. The boy that she’d been dreaming of, the one with the long blonde hair that cascaded beautifully down his pale shoulders. The boy with the tauntingly stunning smile, Shayler. She’d dreamt of their kiss, the one they shared on her bedroom floor. In the distance of the tunnel, a glaring light began to flicker. Shayler was confused and didn’t know whether or not to keep the girl he was with, or give a chance to a girl who knew how she felt. Vanesa knew that whenever she talked to Shay, she was completely and utterly infatuated with the idea of him. The way he smiled, the way his eyes left goose bumps across the skin his beautiful [what seemed to be,] blue eyes lingered. His hands were soft across her bare brown skin, and every time he ran his God-like fingers threw her hair, she felt the urge to give herself to him completely. It’s how he spoke, how he carried himself around her. There kiss meant nothing, at least that we he thought. In her mind it burned a hole in the back of her skull. She wanted him; she wanted the feeling of being held in his arms, of laughing to his jokes with no meaning. Of not needing the idea, but needing the meaning; He wanted her. Not Vanesa. She didn’t make him happy; at least that’s what he said. He swore he only wanted everyone to win. Vanesa didn’t win. When the girl awoke from the dark tunnel, before her stood the boy in her dreams, the one that kissed her passionately, the one that held her like it was love; she saw him, with the girl he swore he didn’t love. The tunnel cashed around her, building enormous walls behind it. Barbed with wire; there was no escape. The light lit her skull up, and shattered her mind into pieces, creating a bond between illusion, and delusion. The girl was trapped. The presence of the boy was burning her skin. “Stay with her,” the girl whispered. The boy didn’t hesitate, walking through the wall held up by lust, intention, and rejection.

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