Everything around me looks fuzzy and blurry. Tears are running down my warm cheeks faster than rain drops sliding off windows during a thunderstorm. I’ve never been this mad before, at anyone. My brain is frozen, I can’t think. My tounge is tied, I can’t talk. My temper is rising, I can’t stop it. I explode, and a rush of words come out before my brain has even processed the words. I’m saying things that I’ll regret later, but I’m mad. I can’t shut up, so I turn around and run. The rhythem my feet make against the pavement makes me run faster. Faster! Faster! A voice inside my head screams. I listen to it, so I run faster and faster. I don’t know where I’m going. All I know is that I had to get away from there. I always run. I’m never brave enough to stand up to my problems. My problems don’t disapear because I go to another place, they catch up to me and are worse. When I feel as if I’d die, because I can’t breathe, I stop. My gray wifebeater is sweat covered, and my blue and black basketball shorts clinging to my legs. I look around. I’m in the middle of no where. I’m standing in a deserted road that’s deathly quiet. Strangely, the street is brightly lit. I turn around and behind be is dark, so I run forward. In 10 minutes, a bright spotlight is being aimed at me. “Who are you?” a familiar voice booms. I look around but I’m blinded by the bright lights. “Who are you?” the voice demands. “B–B-B!” I studder. “B what?” the voice booms again. “B-B-Bailey Eastman. Who are you?” I studder. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, why are you here?” the voice says. “What? The last time I checked it was 8!” I screamed up at the bright light. “How did you get here?” the voice asks. “I–” beep beep beep beep. “What’s that sound?” I wonder. ”You’re g–” beep beep beep. “What’s that–” beep beep beep “It’s –” beep beep beep beep beep beep beep! “B wake up! It’s 7:10! You’re going to be late for school! We’re leaving in twenty minutes!” a very loud, familiar voice says. This doesn’t sound like I’m dreaming, but its the exact same voice. “Bailey get up! E is down in the kitchen waiting for you!” the voice hollers. I feel something hit me. “What?” I wondered. I opened my eyes, and I was blinded my the sunlight flooding my room. I see my mom opening more of my ceiling to floor windows, then it hit me. I was half awake, the blinding light was the sun, and the booming voice was my mom. I touched my cheeks and they were slightly damp, then I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing a… limp gray wifebeater and blue and black basketball shorts?! Was that a dream? Was that real? What’s going on?