Dreams Apart

Deja vu

I confessed. I sang the obvious, what everyone had known for years. I don't regret it, I just regret not bracing my heart for the torment.

I'm still reminded of his words.

"It was nothing like that."

"Can you even hear yourself?"

"I just don't feel the same."

As if he hadn't taken my heart with every intention. I felt my face burn despite the cold wind that striked my skin. I stood with shame as he spoke. I begged despite the lump in my throat and hoped he wouldn't walk away.

He did.

☆

I only thought I'd leave for a short while, but it was enough to kill what was left with Kimberly. Sleepovers turned into visits, and visits turned into nothing at all. Her fists would curl each time I spoke of our parents, and her eyes resembled hatred and carelessness, as I hoped.

She let go of what I couldn't let go of the most, and that was the problem.

I lied on my bed with my feet to ache, restless and sore. I didn't have to put on heels, but I did anyway for 'impression' as my manager would advise.

I'm a coward.

I don't have the courage to do anything about the books I write. I don't believe they're deserving. I think they're random bursts of energy that strike my hand to write out something.

I put up with editing, reviewing another's story, and getting paid for it to make me feel better about myself.

I don't remember how I fell asleep, but I did.

The sky is beautifully blue, and the wind is cold, hitting my skin roughly and giving it brown patches to spread from my shoulders to my legs.

Odd flowers of different colors surround the setting as I stepped foot in. I was only asleep, though.

I grew curious with each step, so then I reached for one of the flowers that stood before me, blue with thorns that stood still and sharp.

"Don't touch that." A voice warned, escaping the silence and echoing into my ears.

This voice gave me a weird feeling, as though I'd known it my whole life, although it was a dream anyway. It would make sense, right?

I hoped to see where this voice came from. I turned to see what I had already known—a man. A tall man with dark shades to hide his identity. I could barely make out his face because I wondered what eyes he was gifted with to perfect his perfectionism.

He had olive-tanned skin, a long brown coat, a white turtleneck to wrap around his muscles,  I watched as his auburn hair danced against his forehead.

His eyes.

Somewhat golden and the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

"Angela." My name almost sounded like butter.

"Uhm." I took a step back, fearing just how close he was to me. I could feel his warm breath hit my neck whenever he chose to let a breath out.

"You look normal." I shared. "It isn't a scary dream." I planned to distract my thoughts and have a conversation with the odd man who'd disappear any second.

It was only a dream.

"I know." His accent was rich, and there was nothing I could put my mind around. It was unfamiliar, foreign, and quite attractive.

"They won't get to you anymore." I knew what he meant; I don't know how, but I did. He spoke of the nightmares that made me weep and hope they'd come to an end.

"You're cold." He assumed, after staring at my skin, that swarmed with goosebumps. He slowly put off his coat, which I watched with lust. The look of admiration disappeared when he swung it before me.

"Here." He offered. I stood indecisive, like a little kid, as I watched his coat brush against my chest slightly. I was cold and yet I still hesitated to take it.

"Angela." He said my name once again, although this time it was to tell me to take his coat. He wasn't asking, nor was he taking no for an answer. His voice clearly said so.

I slowly put the coat on my shoulders, like the girls in the movies always do. He watched me with a sweet smile in his eyes, which flood my stomach with what felt like butterflies.

Butterflies. I haven't felt those since Austin.

"Who are you?" I asked. He held his face down slightly as he sighed softly.

It seemed as though it took him a lot to say the following: "Marcus, I'm Marcus." He shared as he lifted his head from the ground to print his breathtaking eyes on me.

Deja vu. The feeling struck me from the moment he said his name. It was quite familiar—not so foreign nor unknown compared to his accent.

"You might forget this again, but..." His words faded the minute he planted a kiss on my forehead.

I looked up at his pink lips, which were slightly parted, with a sad smile on his face. I wish I had ran or questioned, but it felt right until the sheets brought me back to reality.

I was awake.

"That was a dream."

"Woahh!" I yelled as though I were speaking to another, but this was a remark towards the coat that appeared in my dream. It lied right beside me on my very own bed.

My mind spun heavily. I held my head, trying to think of any way possible to explain how a coat I had no idea of but to see in a dream was on my bed.

I'd be crazy to think it was real. I rubbed my eyes to view the coat yet again. Shit. "I'm crazy!!" I yelled. I held the coat with my bare hands, not expecting to drop a beautiful diamond necklace that fell out of its pocket. I exhaled deeply at a knock on the door.

"Angela?" It sounded familiar, no matter how dizzy I'd be or even on deathbed. I'd recognize his voice. It was Austin.

I panicked even worse with the heaviest of breath. Why was I even panicking so much?

I could barely keep up with my heartbeat as a sore pain stunk my chest, stepping me whole and roughly.

"Angela!" His yelling got louder, but voices flooded my head even louder.

"Marcus!" A young girl yelled in excitement.

"We're still here, sweetie." My mother's voice rung in my ears.

"We have to make her forget everything." Diana said, with just another voice, I'd lose my focus on catching my breath, and I'd be on my pretty floor.