Scrim

Today was so surreal. School was fast paced and I felt like I had a scrim in front of my face the entire time. Like as if every single person who walked by me was hiding something HUGE, and I would strain my corneas to see passed the netting, but no luck.

When I got home, I watched an episode of 24 where Jack Bauer got kidnapped by Russian mobsters. He was purposefully putting himself in danger's way, so he could get to the conspiracy behind the nuclear rods. (Have I mentioned that I love 24? So much?) At the end, I fell asleep and dreamt of prom. Prom was [logically] being held in a shopping mall, and Mr. Bronson was there DPing it up. All of the sudden, I was being held captive by Russian mobsters, and I wasn't blessed with badass escape skills like Jack. As you can probably imagine.. this was terrifyingly realistic.

I awoke to the shake of my house's structure, as the basement door was slammed closed. My heart was booming with confusion to as why I was no longer being tortured by Russians. I remained sloth-like on the couch, realizing the consequences to sleeping with plastic in your eyes. The fire was blasting heat and my face was pressed and marked with couch texture. The scrim had just gotten twice as dark, and my entire house was soaked with silence. I urged myself to get up to make sure I was in fact conscious. Proceeding to pace around the house, I noticed my mom, book in hand, eyelids shut. It had started to snow, so silently. I ate a peanut m&m and winced with the echoing bang when the second one hit the floor. Damn scrim, I couldn't see anything. Why was it that my dreams were so much clearer and detailed and filled than my reality ? I softly fell back down into my imprint on the couch and decided that if this wasn't peace, there is no chance of it actually existing. I sneezed 3 times, read one page of my history text book, and then couldn't help but to surrender to the weight of my eyelids. Back into my scrim-less world I went.