This last semester has given me the chance to develop as a writer. Numerous challenges forced me to consider and reflect on my process, Implement research, and find my writing style. Many of which caused frustration, made me surprised, and then content. My initial goal for this project was to apply all that I have learned in writing and create my story in a way that would connect with my audience. To my enjoyment, I’m glad I was able to achieve this goal, it was not in the way I planned or expected but I feel very proud of this result because I have learned so much from this experience about myself, my future, and the type of stories I want to do about real life struggles. I've written since I was young, and this project tested my writing process because as I wrote, my characters, stories, and themes continued to develop. I've also learned how to construct my parallel worlds and characters. This experience taught me that things don't always go as planned when it comes to structuring books. I had fun experimenting with a new writing style that lets my story and its characters choose their course and discover what happens in the end. 

I also had the opportunity to learn more about the impact that drug addiction, PTSD, and other mental illnesses have on the human brain. In addition, I learned how to incorporate research into a creative piece, something I had never done in any of my other projects. This aspect of writing I found to be important since it gives a story an authentic touch while keeping it realistic enough to connect with many audiences. Another new technique I used for this project was reading novels as inspiration. By studying the different authors' writing styles and how they utilized themes, dialogue, and monologue, I was able to get a wider idea of what I wanted for my own book. This helped me develop a writing style that suited my voice and helped me discover my own through writing. It made me more aware of my love for writing about these topics and providing a platform for others.

There’s a dream that’s been haunting me every night for the past month. It always started the same;  with me standing in the middle of the dark. I couldn’t tell where I was but it felt like I was trapped in a room with no windows and no doors to keep any light from entering. The only thing I could hear were crickets chirping like they do at night when it was quiet. In the midst of the quiet, there was a scream. 

That’s when the sound of sirens came. It was faint but grew louder and louder as if it were drawing near to me. As the sound grew, my eyes felt heavy as I tried to open them. Even though it was blurry, I could still see the light keeping me from opening my eyes completely. I could make out shadows of people hovering over me, they were talking, but it sounded like broken audio. There was a combination of siren background noise, radio traffic, and people talking urgently. 

Even with all that noise I could hear a small cry, and then there was silence. I was back in the dark room, only this time, there were no crickets, no sirens, no lights. Just pitch black with the only sound of my heavy breathing. And then I heard a voice echo.

“Please don’t leave me, Lincoln!”

“Please! Please!”

“Lincoln!”

“Lincoln!”

“Lincoln.”

My eyes shot open from the gentle shake I felt on my arm. Instinctively, I turned to look into the blue eyes that were filled with concern. “You okay?” Zach asked softly, his eyes swirled with the urge to question me but held himself back.