The connection (A danisnotonfire story)

On my way!

Anna's POV:

I put my old red backpack under the seat, as ordered by the attendant on the intercom. Then, I resumed my anxious leg bouncing that was probably annoying the hell out of the large man in the seat next to me. I could feel the plane was beginning to circle the airport, waiting for the proper time to descend. This was the longest plane ride I have ever been on, but in the 11 hours it took to get here, I didn't sleep at all. I was too excited, but nervous. Both really. I still can't tell if coming here was the right choice or not.

What if my feelings get the better of me? What if I ruin everything?

I silently slapped my self out of my dwelling. 'No. You will be strong. Hes like your brother right? Just friends.' Or that's at least what I had to portray on the outside. On the inside, my heart ached every minute I thought about him. And it ached bad.

I put away my almost full sketch pad about an hour ago, but I had an urge to get it out again. I had a lot of different things drawn in there, mostly inanimate objects and nice landscapes. But for about a week now, I have been drawing Dan. I had a quite a few of him, actually. Some with his tired/moody face (that I just think is the cutest thing in the world), and some of him just being himself. But for the past couple of hours on this plane, I drew a different kind of picture. It was of Dan, but I was in it too.

We were sitting on a park bench, holding hands. There was a bag of bird seed next to him, and seed on the ground, with a little bluebird pecking away at it. Then there we were, just sitting together,  staring into each others eyes. Dan had his usual smirk, and me my half smile, but the happiness almost radiated from the picture.

But when I drew this picture, things were different. It felt like, I wasn't thinking about, or really controlling what I was drawing. It was this feeling that it was coming from the back of my head, and the whole scene gave me a weird vibe I couldn't describe. When I finished drawing, I put the pencil away and closed my eyes for a moment. trying to contact whatever was controlling my actions, deep in my mind. I thought harder and concentrated, but I could not understand what was going on. That sense in my head was gone as fast as it had shown up.

I could recall that I had experienced this before. But what was it? My eyes suddenly popped open.

The dream.

When I went to bed that night so long ago, I felt...different. Then I drifted off to sleep and it happened. It seemed like it was alluding towards reality, when Dan told me to "check his twitter". And I had the feeling, or the being, as I like to call it, in me, until the exact moment when I woke up. I couldn't call the being back; it was just...gone.

I slowly jolted back to reality when the plane shook violently as the landing gear hit the tarmac. I zipped up my bag, and prepared myself of the slow stop, and a waiting Dan on the other side of the gate.

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SOMEONE PLEASE TRY TO CONVINCE ME THIS CHAPTER ISN'T SHIT.

It felt great when I wrote in on paper, but when I typed in on here, it just seems like something I wrote in the 5th grade.

I said feel, feeling, and felt way too freakin much right?

Feel free to comment if you thought other wise, make me feel better.

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"My pen is the barrel of the gun, remind me which side you should be on."

-FirePhoenix