I inhale slowly, and realize just who is near me-my Lord my noble gracious Master-here nude before. My brain begins shouting in a panic "Wake up, wake...up, octavia your Master wants you to perform now" I cannot seem to wake up-(later you would tell me this was the way you wanted me to be-you had crushed sleeping pills and laced the pills in the sweet green tea you had made me drink before putting me to bed).Standing on the side of the bed, gazing down at me, you draw back the silken sheets. ...Then I wake up, crying.I dont know what to do about this.I dont know who I can talk to.I know dreams aren't real, but it comes from somewhere, but where?And its not just the dream. Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror, andI look .... wrong, somehow. I look and I half-expect to see the girl frommy dream looking back at me.And the fact she doesn't is a grief I cant even begin to describe ....I've got to pull myself together, shake this off somehow.I wish I had someone to talk to about. More

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