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Description

I know I’m just dreaming, but it is the same dream night after night. Maybe dream is the wrong sort of word. For dreams are seen as pleasant things with unicorns and fairies, this is far from what I see in the state known as sleep. My visions are more like nightmares with monster at every turn and no chance for escape. My nightmares are always the same with very little variation. Ever since that fateful day of my 18th birthday I, Jane, have never quite been the same. On that night this hideous reoccurring delusion began to haunt my sleep. I use to wake up screaming and someone would run in to check on me. That doesn’t happen anymore, at least not since I have been put in this place. Something about reoccurring episodes of screaming every night for over a year and half makes people think you are crazy.
When the vision kept occurring after a week or so I would try to muffle the screams but to no avail. This blasted curse on me ruined my life not that it will much matter when it is all said and done. I’m starting to believe this curse is actually a premonition of what is to become of me. I can feel it coming closer every day. No matter how much medication and therapy they try to put me through at this Asylum the terror in my sleep will not leave me. Sometimes know I still have the vision while I’m awake which makes me believe it is closer then ever before. I don’t dare tell a soul because they would just try more drastic measure and I rather like my brain physically intact. There seems to be no worry about writing this down though because if I’m write they won’t find it until the dream has finally won and taken place.
The worst thing of this all-well aside from knowing what will come, losing my sanity and all those lovely things is losing my love. He was so sweet to me. My beloved Jonathan Doe was a tall, handsome man, with perfectly combed black hair, soft hazel eyes that had mostly green to them and a gentle manner. He intended to marry me but of course my psychosis has made that an impossible occurrence for he must think of his position in society. I do know that he truly loved me with all his heart because he still visits me even long after my parents will not see me anymore. I tell him it is not proper for him to see me, sometimes I hate him seeing me in such a state, but he says it is no matter to him he has feelings for no other and can’t leave me while there is hope. Hope such a lovely word I wish I could believe in its false promises, but I can’t. Hope is gone it has flown away from me and it will never return. I can’t tell Jonathan such a thing though it would upset him so to know there is no hope so I lie to him and say that there is still such a lovely elusive thing as hope.
My one and only hope is that Jonathan gives up on this fable that is hope before fate does what it seems to be showing me. I pray he has moved on from me because the thought of him in any pain hurts me more then words can express. He has stopped promising to marry me when I get out of the Asylum at least and his visits are down to once a month. I’m so sure it is so very close now, I feel like I can almost touch it.
I’m beginning to laugh at myself of course it is close at this point. The first half of my dream is coming true not only am I utterly alone, not even my own sister will talk to me, but my beloved seems to given up on me, and my doctors are becoming more and more baffled. If this vision is going to take place it is going to be soon because I’m damned either way, but I would prefer it if I was damned with my brain intact and not with pieces removed. Though what use would a brain be in hell, it is just torture for the rest of your life. I laugh again though because what can hell offer me that I haven’t experienced. How can hell be worse then this mind-breaking nightmare? I must discontinue my musing for the moment they are coming torment me with their questions.
It has been a week since I last wrote anything I have been to consumed by this terror. I know it is so very, very close now I can feel it with every inch of my being. I actually think it will happen tonight. At least I got some of my story out before it happened. I just wish I could have lasted a bit longer, maybe even gotten to where I could fake my illness enough to be released and go to my beloved Jonathan. It would have been lovely to be called Mrs. Jonathan Doe at least once, but that is selfish. It would have hurt him so incredibly much if he thought I was better and then my vision finally made itself reality.
I find it funny that I’m writing like someone will bother to read this. I’m not sure anybody will, after all who would want to read the thoughts of a deranged mind bent of destroying its owner. You would at this point I would be so utterly terrified that I wouldn’t be able to think straight let alone write anything of mild coherency, but yet I’m not scared. In fact, I rather wish it would just hurry up and be done with. I must really be crazy I’m ready to embrace an eternity of damnation over another second of this horrible vision. Then again I have had so much time to come to terms with this foresight of mine and learned to accept it. I mean damnation can’t be as bad as it sounds really can it? That is the only thing I’m scared of is what will happen to me, well not me precisely, but my soul, I wonder which circle of hell it will go to? Then I wonder if there are circles to hell and if there really is an afterlife?
It is finally here I can only write a bit more just so they know, if they do find this and read it. They all have to know that I had no control, the blade did the work all on its own. The demons made me do it. I had no control over them, in fact, I can see them now getting closer and closer to me. Damn the clumsy fool who let their little switchblade fall from their pocket. I can see them opening the blade, they are coming closer, but they are doing it so slowly. I want to scream but nothing will come out. I just want everyone to know that I was right. Oh! How they taunt me! Won’t they just end it already! I have waited for them so long in fear, now I just want the thing done. I know how this ends. They will give me the blade saying do it, do it. Then some poor guard will open my door to see what is the matter. I will barrel past him in a vain attempt to out run them with the knife in hand. I will run to the lake before they finally win the war. I will succumb to there chanting, the blade will meet my wrists as I walked into the lake. There I will drown in a swirl of water and blood. They will find my body floating along the lake serene and peaceful. Ironically no one will remember who I am because my paperwork was lost and I’ve had no visitors to recall my name. Therefore they will list my body as a Jane Doe. I laugh because this is the name I have wanted, under different circumstances, but at least I will still get it and I know none in my family will step forward to see if it is me for my name is out of that book. They will probably know and be slightly grieved but it won’t matter. I get my name even though not the way I wanted and I will away from my vision. At last they are here with the blade ready for me to take it from them. So I must go and become Jane Doe.

Description

I know I’m just dreaming, but it is the same dream night after night. Maybe dream is the wrong sort of word. For dreams are seen as pleasant things with unicorns and fairies, this is far from what I see in the state known as sleep. My visions are more like nightmares with monster at every turn and no chance for escape. My nightmares are always the same with very little variation. Ever since that fateful day of my 18th birthday I, Jane, have never quite been the same. On that night this hideous reoccurring delusion began to haunt my sleep. I use to wake up screaming and someone would run in to check on me. That doesn’t happen anymore, at least not since I have been put in this place. Something about reoccurring episodes of screaming every night for over a year and half makes people think you are crazy.
When the vision kept occurring after a week or so I would try to muffle the screams but to no avail. This blasted curse on me ruined my life not that it will much matter when it is all said and done. I’m starting to believe this curse is actually a premonition of what is to become of me. I can feel it coming closer every day. No matter how much medication and therapy they try to put me through at this Asylum the terror in my sleep will not leave me. Sometimes know I still have the vision while I’m awake which makes me believe it is closer then ever before. I don’t dare tell a soul because they would just try more drastic measure and I rather like my brain physically intact. There seems to be no worry about writing this down though because if I’m write they won’t find it until the dream has finally won and taken place.
The worst thing of this all-well aside from knowing what will come, losing my sanity and all those lovely things is losing my love. He was so sweet to me. My beloved Jonathan Doe was a tall, handsome man, with perfectly combed black hair, soft hazel eyes that had mostly green to them and a gentle manner. He intended to marry me but of course my psychosis has made that an impossible occurrence for he must think of his position in society. I do know that he truly loved me with all his heart because he still visits me even long after my parents will not see me anymore. I tell him it is not proper for him to see me, sometimes I hate him seeing me in such a state, but he says it is no matter to him he has feelings for no other and can’t leave me while there is hope. Hope such a lovely word I wish I could believe in its false promises, but I can’t. Hope is gone it has flown away from me and it will never return. I can’t tell Jonathan such a thing though it would upset him so to know there is no hope so I lie to him and say that there is still such a lovely elusive thing as hope.
My one and only hope is that Jonathan gives up on this fable that is hope before fate does what it seems to be showing me. I pray he has moved on from me because the thought of him in any pain hurts me more then words can express. He has stopped promising to marry me when I get out of the Asylum at least and his visits are down to once a month. I’m so sure it is so very close now, I feel like I can almost touch it.
I’m beginning to laugh at myself of course it is close at this point. The first half of my dream is coming true not only am I utterly alone, not even my own sister will talk to me, but my beloved seems to given up on me, and my doctors are becoming more and more baffled. If this vision is going to take place it is going to be soon because I’m damned either way, but I would prefer it if I was damned with my brain intact and not with pieces removed. Though what use would a brain be in hell, it is just torture for the rest of your life. I laugh again though because what can hell offer me that I haven’t experienced. How can hell be worse then this mind-breaking nightmare? I must discontinue my musing for the moment they are coming torment me with their questions.
It has been a week since I last wrote anything I have been to consumed by this terror. I know it is so very, very close now I can feel it with every inch of my being. I actually think it will happen tonight. At least I got some of my story out before it happened. I just wish I could have lasted a bit longer, maybe even gotten to where I could fake my illness enough to be released and go to my beloved Jonathan. It would have been lovely to be called Mrs. Jonathan Doe at least once, but that is selfish. It would have hurt him so incredibly much if he thought I was better and then my vision finally made itself reality.
I find it funny that I’m writing like someone will bother to read this. I’m not sure anybody will, after all who would want to read the thoughts of a deranged mind bent of destroying its owner. You would at this point I would be so utterly terrified that I wouldn’t be able to think straight let alone write anything of mild coherency, but yet I’m not scared. In fact, I rather wish it would just hurry up and be done with. I must really be crazy I’m ready to embrace an eternity of damnation over another second of this horrible vision. Then again I have had so much time to come to terms with this foresight of mine and learned to accept it. I mean damnation can’t be as bad as it sounds really can it? That is the only thing I’m scared of is what will happen to me, well not me precisely, but my soul, I wonder which circle of hell it will go to? Then I wonder if there are circles to hell and if there really is an afterlife?
It is finally here I can only write a bit more just so they know, if they do find this and read it. They all have to know that I had no control, the blade did the work all on its own. The demons made me do it. I had no control over them, in fact, I can see them now getting closer and closer to me. Damn the clumsy fool who let their little switchblade fall from their pocket. I can see them opening the blade, they are coming closer, but they are doing it so slowly. I want to scream but nothing will come out. I just want everyone to know that I was right. Oh! How they taunt me! Won’t they just end it already! I have waited for them so long in fear, now I just want the thing done. I know how this ends. They will give me the blade saying do it, do it. Then some poor guard will open my door to see what is the matter. I will barrel past him in a vain attempt to out run them with the knife in hand. I will run to the lake before they finally win the war. I will succumb to there chanting, the blade will meet my wrists as I walked into the lake. There I will drown in a swirl of water and blood. They will find my body floating along the lake serene and peaceful. Ironically no one will remember who I am because my paperwork was lost and I’ve had no visitors to recall my name. Therefore they will list my body as a Jane Doe. I laugh because this is the name I have wanted, under different circumstances, but at least I will still get it and I know none in my family will step forward to see if it is me for my name is out of that book. They will probably know and be slightly grieved but it won’t matter. I get my name even though not the way I wanted and I will away from my vision. At last they are here with the blade ready for me to take it from them. So I must go and become Jane Doe.