Luxterra

Chapter 2

’I live now in a world of phantoms, a prisoner of my own dreams.’

       ~.~

The sky is where I’ve always looked, ever since I was young; infinitely different colors upon an infinite sky just out of my ghostly grasp, this time mockingly dancing above a distant, delicately curling pillar of smoke. Immediately, with a broad grin on my face, and flicker of arms, I couldn’t help but twirl under the singing of unfamiliar stars.

Losing oneself is the most freeing thing possible, and among the painful bites of bitter wind, I lost more than just self.  Every time I closed my eyes in Morpheus’ gentle hand, there was somewhere beautiful waiting for me. Be it through exotic jungles screeching with heat and unfamiliar creatures, along the bridges of pale ocean and sand, or where I was at that moment, dancing through frost nipped fields under the deep night; I was alive. My senses were usually dulled, but in doing so, there was a new sense of freedom.  

A glint of gold emerged from the horizon of the black sky, and, interrupting my twirls, I was instinctively attracted to it. I was just a child in the land of dreams, curious and seeking imagination in ordinary things, like the warm window of a secluded cabin tucked under the stars. I gleefully approached it, and was overjoyed to see the hunched figure within, passion painted across his brow.

I knew he was making art. It wasn’t because his hands were stroking paper with pencil, and a look of longing and love was in his eyes. I just instantly knew. It’s sort of like the color of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata; it’s hard to explain things.

His halfway glance towards me cracked the peacefulness of my dream. Something always does ruin everything.

He screamed.

I frowned.

I tried speaking, but as usual, no words came. He slammed his shutters out of fear, and all that was left was a pair of brilliant eyes wide and deepset in a ghostly form in the reflection.

My eyes.

I wanted to say I’m sorry to him, scream I’m sorry to myself, but I could only strain against my vocal chords. Push cold air in and out until all that lingered was a heavier silence than before.

I’m sorry. I shut my eyes. I thought I was invisible, that this was one of those blessed dreams where no one could see me. The vibrant senses should have tripped a wire in my brain. Usually my senses were cut apart and missing in my dreams, like I was trying to remember a balmy spring day when I was little, but couldn’t quite form my thoughts to remember all the details.

But when I was seen, I didn’t look right. In finding my mental form complete, my physical self became ghost-like and terrifyingly there and not at the same time.

In between.

“Lucy?” a familiar, disembodied voice called in my head. I couldn’t stand to look at my own reflection.

“Lucy!” the voice overlapped in on itself, echoing over and over until the pitch adjusted to a high whine. My head fell apart in my hands, and the night sky collapsed in itself, as I felt like someone was pulling on all parts of my body as hard as possible.

I collapsed.

 ~.~

“Lucy!”

Milly’s usually pinched brown eyes filled with concern as she shook my shoulder.

“Wha-“ I sat up quickly, and smacked my head against a slab of oak.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry! Oh, thank god, Lucia. Were you sleeping? It looks like you rolled under the coffee table. I probably should have moved you before I tried to wake up,” my foster mother cupped my face, her concerned eyes an almost familiar sight.