Dreams are very mysterious things. Anything can happen in a dream. Dreams are a way for people to escape reality. We can make dreams into whatever we want them to be. To me dreams were a way to escape the world, where I was alone and unloved. My father didn't care about me, my mother died giving birth to me, and when my father remarried, my new stepmother and stepsister hated and tormented me. My best friend, Brea was the only one who ever showed me any compassion. There was one other person who had ever loved me. And the only place I ever met him was in my dreams.
It all started when I was eleven; I met a man in a strange dream I had. He told me his name was Morpheus when we first met. He was very handsome. His eyes were two different colors. One was gold and the other was jet black. I could see that his eyes held loneliness, which made us connect instantly because I knew what it was like to feel lonely. It was almost as if we were one in the same. He had long hair the color of gold and his smile could melt your heart. He wore a simple white tunic with a belt around the waist, and an ebony cape that went down to the middle of his back. On his feet, he wore brown leather sandals with straps that criss-crossed up his calf.
After I met him the first time, I had multiple dreams with him in it. He would take me to places that you could only see in a dream. Some nights he would tell me that when I was older he would take me away from my world and make me his bride. Being little I was happy that this man wanted me for his wife. He made me promise that on my seventeenth birthday that I would become his bride. Ever since that promise I never saw him again.
Now I'm sixteen and I'll be turning seventeen in a one week. I've accepted the fact that he was only a dream and would never come for me. Though it would be nice if he was real. I would do anything to leave this world where I'm unloved. Of course the only person I could find to love me was in a dream.
Why are dreams created? People think they are just our memories replaying in our head. Then why is it we dream of things that could never exist? Why do we dream the things that we do? Are they just fantasies we create to escape reality? Is it really us creating the dreams or is there more to it than that?