Rosella 

 

 

 

 

It was very late in the evening and I had awoken from a troubling dream.  I could not remember the contents of the dream itself, but I felt afraid when I had gained consciousness.  Perhaps I had not dreamed at all and it was the nothingness of a dreamless sleep that scared me.  I always feared that death was going to be much like this state.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this constant nothingness already surrounded me in my waking life.  The fact I had nothing or no one to hold onto, made me feel as though I were constantly falling into the empty, eternal blackness.  I lay there in the darkness for a long while, listening to the snores of the other girls as they all slept restlessly.  I heard the soft echoes made by passing nuns as they patrolled the dimly lit hallways.  It was a somewhat comforting feeling to know at least that they too were awake, while everyone else around me was fast asleep, experiencing the fancy of their dreams, before waking and joining me in the almost unbearable reality of our dull existence.   

My eyes were staring up at the pale, iron ceiling above me and I was made to suffer all the troubling thoughts that sank into my brain like ink spilled onto a valuable rug.  I was used to this, however, for the time I spent in my bed before falling asleep was always a somewhat difficult process for me.  It seemed as though I went through most of my day in a somewhat lazy and exhausted state, but at soon as my head rested against my pillow, I was filled with a certain type of energy that made me wonder and worry about many foolish things that kept me up, late into the night. 

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