I want to dream

Last night I dreamed that I took a razor and slashed my wrists. The blood rushed out of the wounds in small red beams from every beat of my heart. It hurt, but in a good way. Everything was so calm, so quiet. It felt as if nothing was impossible. Everything was just beautiful. Life as it seemed was drifting further and further away like autumn leaves caught by the wind. As I was getting lost within myself I suddenly realized all the things I am leaving behind and so I pressed my bloody arms against my body, regretting it all.
If only I was braver.

I stare out my window, the dark sky the dirty old houses. Is this really the life I wanted? Is this what I worked so hard for? I wish I knew how to make my dreams come true. Do something that only I want, not caring about what anyone else thinks. I am afraid of the dark, yet it is where I sit. It is probably not the darkness that scares me but the person sitting there.

What should you do when the air is thick, when it feels like your lungs are about to explode?
When you feel like standing up and walk away but are still sitting there. Why do we torment ourselves?
What should you do when you see yourself in the mirror and hate the person standing on the other side.
I want to face my fears, but I do not want to be scared. I want to love someone like I never been hurt before. I want to dream as if I will live forever and live as if I will die tomorrow.

I want to chase fireflies through the hot summer nights, feel the wind in my hair and scream. I want to run like the wild horses where ever the wind takes me. I wish I still had wings so I could fly to a better place. Any place.

Ok,... I hope that this isn't from experience. But, i feel like the last part of this should go in a blog, not a story. You captured the imagery pretty well, so ill give you props for that. No grammar mistakes that i can see... Lol. Sorry I'm not much help. It was a good short story though. Just keep writing.

--Jalmoc

Some errors I saw:

I stare out my window, the dark sky the dirty old houses

Either I stare out my window at the dark sky and the dirty houses OR I stare out my window, the dark sky and the dirty old houses. (Just what I'd do)

What should you do when you see yourself in the mirror and hate the person standing on the other side.

Should this have a question mark instead of period? I read it as a question.

I think for a short story, it needs and ending besides what the character just wants in life. Do they escape this prison like place? I want to know if anything happens, or if they do slit their wrists, or what? It does seem like just a blog with many unanswered questions. I see longer novel potential. I'd love to see more in this writing. It is interesting but left me hanging wanting to know what the character gets as answers.

These are just my opinions. Hope they help!

On a postive note: I can imagine the setting and what's going through their minds. I can visualize outside the window. What's it like inside?