Moonlight

One

EDITIED

With a jolt I wake up. I'm covered in sweat. I open my eyes and look around at my surroundings. It seems that even though I've lost everything and everyone I ever cared about and that I now live in a random place with a bunch of people I don't know, I've still got that one constant dream to rely on.

In the light of the moon coming through the crack in the blinds, I look around my new rom. There's a walk in closet, a dressing table, a bookshelf, a desk, a double bed and surrounding me are boxes and a couple of suitcases holding all my worldly possessions.

I close my eyes again, partly so I don't have to look at what my life has become and partly so I can try to see what I can remember of my dream this time. Running, it always starts with running, someone calling my name and telling me to remember and lips. Always lips.

Reluctantly, I open my eyes again, roll over onto my side and have a look at the digital clock on my bedside table. It's 5:13am.

I groan and get up because I know from experience that I'm not getting back to sleep after that dream. At least I can have a shower without being disturbed.

As the water runs over my head and down my body, I think about the lips I always see in my dream and I think about what it would be like to kiss them. Would they be as soft as they look? I wonder how they would feel kissing me back.

I don't know why the thought popped into my head but it did and I start blushing furiously as if someone knows what I'm thinking. I know I'm being stupid so I tell myself to shut up and turn the water onto freezing to try to cool down my blushing.

When I'm back in my bedroom and have pulled on some clothes, I look at myself in the mirror on the inside of the closet door. I see a seventeen year old girl with dark red hair that falls down to her wait in waves, eyes that are a see green colour, a nose that curves up a bit at the end, lips that are small in length but that are full and plump and her skin tone is a slightly darker colour than an old book. She's slender but lanky at the same time and she's dressed in black skinny jeans that are ripped on the knees by wear and tear, a grey tank top and nothing on her feet.

I can't believe this girl is me, Daire Halliway, because if you look closer you can see lines under her eyes that show how tired she is and if you look into her eyes, you can see how sad and scared she is . . . how sad and scared I am.

I shift my hair off my left should and run my finger over the jagged and slightly raised scar that runs from my shoulder and across my collarbone. In my head I hear the screech of metal being crushed and the tinkling of glass shattering.

I turn away from the mirror and face the boxes and suitcases that swamp my new room. Apart from my dream and my scar, these are the only things left over from my old life. I don't regret anything because regret takes time and energy that I don't have, so I get on my hands and knees and start unpacking, trying to make a new life.