My name is Kristine Lawson. I have green eyes, dark hair and pale creamy skin. I am a bibliophile and an author. I live in a small cottage filled with books. I love books. I love how they smell. I love how they feel and how they make me feel. Nothing makes me happier than quality time spent with a hot cup of coffee and a good book.
These are the things I know to be true. These facts have made up my life and I repeat them to myself when I question my sanity. I am not unhappy. I have lived a fulfilling life surrounded by my beloved books. It wasn't until recently that I began to lose my grip on reality and question if my life is all that I thought it was.
I feel like I've stepped into a book. Perhaps I am a bit like Katniss and I've entered into The Hunger Games. I find that I am playing her little game. I remind myself of what I believe to be truths and try to figure out which of my current realities are real or not real.
See, lately I have strange dreams. In these dreams I am the "Maker," and when I wake, I am unsure which of the two realities is the real me. Am I the author that I believed myself to be or am I the Maker? The inability to tell fact from fiction is slowly driving me to the very edge of insanity. I feel as if I am living out a dream within a dream and fear that I now understand the haunting life of Poe.
I spend my waking hours trying desperately to give a voice to the lives that I have either dreamed or created. Perhaps if I tell their story I will be less conflicted about their existence.
The details of their life and their dependency on me makes me fear that I am hopelessly lost. Yet, I long to dream again so that I can fulfill their desires and expectations.
I am their Maker. Without me, would they even exist? Would Jordan get her promotion? Would Ezra find love? Who would guide and direct their lives? They need me and I fear that I might need them just as much as they need me.
Then I wonder about my life as Kristine. Am I the Maker of her too? Is someone else pulling the invisible strings of my own life? Will I get the next promotion or find love? Will I have children and grandchildren? Will I leave behind a legacy or will I only be remembered for the broken fragments of my mind?
I don't know the answer to these questions. I don't even know which version of myself is actually me.
I need to know which of my two lives is a reality and which is a dream. I cannot possibly be both.
I just want to know who I am. Am I the Maker? or am I Kristine?
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