TWO

6.2K 195 30
                                    

Hi guys!

This is the second chapter for the week, but I'll probably be posting another one tomorrow. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if you do, please be sure to leave me a vote and/or comment, because they're really appreciated!

---


Tamsin woke up in the middle of the night screaming. In her dream, Eli had been patting her arm reassuringly as she tried to play the hardest song she could at age nine—A Thousand Years. How often had she been in this situation with him? Playing her piano, Eli always laughing and happy. But there was more this time. Eli's chair had been dragged over a trapdoor that would shoot open if she missed a note or key. She could feel the perspiration on her brow, distracting her.

'It's okay,' he continued to repeat. His face blurred until the only thing that she could make out in his features were his lively green eyes. They stared back at her expectantly, like bottomless pools she could spend an eternity swimming through. 'It's okay,' he said again, his alabaster skin caked with sweat under the rude fluorescent lights. 'I can die.'

And then, suddenly, the scene changed. The piano disappeared, and she was standing in a hospital room. A private room. Nurses in purple uniforms rushed around it, fear plain in their wide eyes—but Dream-Tamsin wasn't sure if it was the same nurse, because they all looked exactly alike down to the finest detail. They—she, whoever—were worried, that was clear. But about what? Dream-Tamsin wondered groggily. Then she noticed the figure on the bed. The familiar sheen of sweat over translucent skin, pale, blonde hair matted with moisture. A pair of green eyes blinking at her, closing. Closing, closing...

Dream-Tamsin tried to yell, keep him awake. She was in the way, but the nurses passed through her, like she wasn't really present. She ran towards Eli on the gurney. At first she tried to touch him, but her hand only passed through his skin. When that didn't work, she tried punching. Then kicking. Anything to get him to wake up and smile at her with those endless eyes, anything...

Every time she felt hope bloom inside her at the prospect of trying something new, it vanished when he never responded. 'Eli!'' She screamed finally. She couldn't feel the tears, but somehow knew she was crying.

The nurse stood at the foot of the bed, shaking her head remorsefully. The nurse—Nadia, her nametag read—spoke a handful of indecipherable words to someone behind her. But Dream-Tamsin couldn't turn, couldn't even breathe. How could she breathe when Eli couldn't? It seemed completely unreasonable.

But eventually two strong hands gathered her up into their arms and walked her away from Eli's corpse. And then...well, then she woke up.

Gasping for air, Present-Tamsin glanced up at the top bunk, to make sure Trey was still sleeping peacefully. Yes. His chest rose and fell firmly. Shaking her head, as if she could shake away the fear, Tamsin slipped out of their bedroom and into the bathroom. Her watch read past two a.m.

She gripped the sides of the basin Trey and her father had attempted to put together a few years ago. Inhale, exhale, she thought. It was a trick her music teacher, Mrs. Davidson, had taught her. Whenever you find yourself overwhelmed, she had said, in that gentle voice, just inhale and exhale. Feel the moment. Ground yourself, breathe, darling. Breathing is key.

Tamsin had found the advice funny back then, but now, it was anything but. She looked into the mirror and shook her head at the girl staring back at her. It couldn't have been her, but the figure in the mirror moved when she moved.

The dark circles under her eyes gave away her stress and sleepless nights. Her dark hair tumbled down to her waist in natural waves, but it was in desperate need of a wash. She stared into her eyes in the mirror, breathing. They were so dark. So dark, in fact, they scared her. Her milky white skin highlighted her dark features more than she liked, and she looked thin and wiry. Her lips were chapped and rough. Tamsin sighed. This was what crippling grief and nightmares and stress did to your body.

The Boy with the Blind EyesWhere stories live. Discover now