*Lydia*

After I was done crying into Vi- Dad's shoulder, he showed me to my bunk and I sat my backpack on it, stowing my guitars under it. I turned around and hugged him again.

"Thank you." I whispered, letting go and wiping my eyes. He kissed my forehead.

"You're welcome, Lydia." He smiled. I climbed into my bunk and pulled out my sketch book and my IPod and headphones. I turned on my Motionless In White playlist and began sketching out a tattoo. When I was done, I had a heart made of stone, but the stone was crumbling away. I quickly wrote lyrics from Sinematic under it and turned to an unfinished drawing of Mitch Lucker I had been working on. Switching to Suicide Silence, I began to draw, paying attention to his tattoos and facial features. When I finished, I put a quote from him on the bottom of the page and set my sketch pad down. Keeping my ear buds in, I crawled under the blanket and let sleep embrace me, but I wish I hadn't.

#Nightmare#



"YOU LITTLE BRAT!" My mom screamed, drawing her hand back and punching me.

"IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT HE'S DEAD! YOU SHOULD'VE DIED, NOT HIM! THE ONLY REASON I DIDN'T GET AN ABORTION WAS BECAUSE HE WANTED YOU! I HATE YOU!" She punched me again, catching my ribs and I felt one pop out of place. She's going to kill me this time, I know it. She kicked my chest and I hit the wall, tears escaping my eyes. She brought her face down to mine and spat in my eye, putting pressure on my battered ribcage.

"No one to save you, now." She hissed, a harsh laugh escaping her throat. She reached for the knife on the floor and used it to cut my shirt off, tracing the tip over my abdomen, slicing into me like a Halloween pumpkin. Before she could stab me, the door was kicked in and five men rushed in, two tackling my mom while another wrapped me in a blanket and carried me out of the house, I looked over at our neighbors and saw a younger version of Dad and Mike standing on the porch, Dad with a phone in his hands. I blacked out in the man's arms and woke up in a hospital, my chest and face aching like a bitch. I was told that I was going to the orphanage and that I was to collect a few things before I was sent off. They took me home and I grabbed all my CD's, T-shirts, jeans, and my pair of sneakers before pointing to my Papi's guitars. The man grabbed them and then I was being dropped off at the orphanage, my guitars and my suitcase next to me. I was shown to a bedroom and then the living room type thing. As soon as Margaret, the orphanage lady left, a boy came up to me and shoved me, calling me stupid, ugly, worthless. The others joined in and I ran up to my room, crying. I saw the door open and felt a hand running over my legs, and I screamed. The person ran out of my room, and I shut and locked the door.

#End nightmare#

I jolted awake and saw Dad looking at me worriedly. I just brought my knees to my chest and cried, silent sobs shaking my body. When I finally calmed down a bit, I looked at him and tried to speak without choking.

"You- you were the one who- who called CPS, an-and got me out of there." I said, breathing heavily from my nightmare and crying so much, He nodded and wrapped one arm around my shoulders, rubbing my back.

"What were you dreaming about, mija?" He asked, looking at me.

"W-when I was sent t-to the orphanage." I choked out, hating the vulnerability and helplessness I felt. I pulled away from him a little and cracked my neck, feeling the bones click into place.

"What time is it?" I asked, yawning.

"About one in the morning. You were screaming and crying." He said, and I looked down, embarrassed. I'd had these nightmares since I was seven, but I hadn't had one in a while and was hoping they had stopped.

"Hey, nightmares aren't something to be embarrassed about. You aren't crazy, so why would I think of you as crazy?" He asked, tilting my head to look up at him. I just shrugged and bit at my lip.

"I'm just so used to people hearing my nightmares and not wanting me." I said, looking down.

"Lydia, the dreams aren't gonna make me not want you as my daughter. Something happened to you that terrified you, and these are the results. All it is is your mind trying to come to terms with that and then get over it. Now, you need your sleep." He said, kissing the top of my head and going back to his bunk. I stretched back on my bed and yawned, switching from Suicide Silence to Morrisey, letting the softer music sing me to sleep.