River Dreams

Watching Me

CHAPTER TWO:

Watching me

"There are pink pills on the ceiling,

And blue pills on the desk,

There are red and white ones,

Decorating my floor.

And a disintegrating beast,

Begging for more,

It tastes like dust, this world I follow,

They call it madness,

I call it sorrow."

I woke up, my body covered in a thin layer of sweat as the sun's last reminisce faded, replaced by the dark shadows of the night. I laid flat on my back, watching how the tree branches slowly made their way to meet at the center of the ceiling.

My lungs heaved for air. My chest rising and falling in quick motions as my ragged breaths filled the silence of the room. The oxygen felt foreign, almost suffocating, like the air from a scorching desert. I traced the curve of my neck, where his mouth had once been as I questioned if I was truly awake.

His presence lingered in the air, his warmth still tingling across the surface of my skin, like an invisible tattoo. It was almost as if he was here watching me, observing my every move waiting for the perfect chance to come out of the shadows and drag me back into the darkness he had come from.

I was choking on the air. I couldn't breathe knowing he was here waiting.

It was just a dream, I told myself as I sat up to prop my back against the mound of pillows behind me. I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding, silently struggling with my chaotic arrangement of thoughts.

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, regaining control over my shaking hands as I looked around the room. I half expected to see him there, sitting in the corner where the darkest of shadows collected like dust.

The thought of him became overwhelming, almost poisonous, an illusion that could do real harm. I looked down at my arms, expecting to see scars from a fire that had never happened, an illusion. But instead of the gruesome sight I expected, I was met with nothing but untouched flesh.

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, remembering all the relaxing yoga videos I had watched on YouTube (my mom's doing, of course). If she could see me now, I wondered what she would say. I took another deep breath and rolled my eyes, I was acting pathetic.

After a moment or two, I felt the rate of my heart go down, finally settling back into its normal rhythm. I placed my hand on my chest, feeling the soft humming beats as I looked around my small room. The moonlight poured in through the window, almost flooding it with silver light.

The usual shadow patterns were created on my wall, ever so often moving with the dance of the trees outside. In a way it was comforting knowing the forest's shadows had been watching me as I dreamt of him, the boy whose name remained a secret forever locked in my head.

I wandered towards the window seat, the bench was covered in small cushions my mother had made as a teenager. Sitting down I rested my forehead against the cool glass, silently wishing I had a good book to read.

I settled with watching the moon spreading its brilliant hue along the length of the horizon, even my room seemed to be doused in its warm silver tone. The light caught on the small crystal pendant hanging off the window.