Dreaming of Lies.

Subject: Dreaming of Lies. 7/7/2009, 16:01

Dreaming of Lies...

The alarm clock screamed loudly into my ears as I lie on my bed, my eyes wide open staring at the white stucco wall in front of me. The dream. Once again. I sigh, and kick the
cheap, fleece blanket onto the floor and jump onto the burgundy carpet and stare out of my window. My eyes drift slowly left, and see the small misshapen television in the middle of the dim, trashy trailer I call home. I look down and see the alarm clock still screaming its head off. I quickly strike it with my hand, and it shuts off with a harsh yelp. I turn back to the frostbitten window and my heart suddenly stops cold. There in the window was the girl. Except this time…

She’s real.

You'd think she was an illusion of some sort.
Motionless.
Staring right at me.

Our eye's met for what seemed like an eternity.
Her blue eyes piercing into my green. Neither of us dared to move.

Slowly but surely, I blinked.
In a heartbeat, she was gone.

"You alright?" A familiar voice spoke, laying an icy hand on my shoulder. "Yeah," I smiled. "I'm alright, Da—"
My smile faded. When i turned around, nothing stood. All i saw was the empty dimmed room, and the quiet hum of the artificial light.

I sighed.
Just another figment of my damned imagination.

"What's that, hun?" Mom said, walking into the room.

I stood for a moment. "Nothing..." I said.
"Well ... Alright." She replied. "But shouldn't you be getting read for school?"
"Yeah, I guess I should." I half smiled. She turned me around by my shoulders, and looked at me in the eyes. I looked back at hers. Her eyes were tedious, and puffy.

She had been crying.
Again.

I couldn't help but to feel bad.. I knew why she was crying. Dad was the answer.

She gave me a grin and pulled me into a tight hug, whole kissing me on the forehead. "Bye, honey." She she gave me another look.
"Bye Mom." I said, walking out of the door.

——————————————

Today was colder than the rest of them. My face felt as if it had be stuck in a freezer for hours. The frigid wind stung my face harshly, and I had to squint from the snow to see. I pulled my jacket close to me, and dug around in my pocket in search of my iPod. My fingers slid across its silky metal surface, and I took out the earbuds and stuck them in my ear. The song Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron and Wine softly began to play.....

Critisism is ALLOWED. Please, I need to know what I can work on.