There
was this odd feeling inside my stomach. I had felt it before but I
never could figure out why it made me feel this way. This feeling was
like adrenalin; it made my heart beat faster, my breath quicken. My
muscles would tense and relax at the same time. This feeling made me
sad an indescribably happy, but no matter how hard I tried, I
couldn’t understand the meaning of this feeling.
It’s
been happening more frequent in the past year. I want to start
laughing for no reason; jump to the clouds and back. I feel like I
could walk on water. This feeling was more intoxicating than that of alcohol.
I felt an ethereal, evanescent, euphoria rush into my body; this
feeling is what beauty and aesthetics looked like. It made me feel
dizzy and sick, and I wanted it to detach itself from me, but if it
turned its back I held an outstretched hand towards it again, begging
for its bitter-sweet return.
Anytime
I tried explaining this feeling to my best friend, Miles, the words
came out in a twisted knot of a fiasco - and he would laugh. Who
wouldn’t? Miles was one of those friends you could always depend
on. He was down to earth and never socially awkward. Everyone liked
Miles, and that made me jealous sometimes, but I never said anything
to him about it. I wasn’t going to bother him something so
disposable. After all, he was just my friend. Much to my dismay, I
put up with the fact that I was going to have to share.
~*
I
looked out the smudged window of the classroom. I often looked
outside for inspiration when I didn’t know what to write for
English. The grass was mixed with brown and green blades, the way it
is between winter and spring after the snow melts. Further out in the
schoolyard were a few trees. They still slept and showed no signs of
budding. The trees always looked out of place this time of year
because they had no leaves, but in the same way they fit into the
sad, cold, wet, awkward time frame sitting among that named “spring.”
Past the trees there sat a river. It reflected the depressing, gray
sky; there was no sun to make the smooth surface of the water glimmer
with life. Instead, it was stark and boring, moving without energy.
The
bell rang and snapped me out of my daze. I shook away the bland
thoughts of the rainy day and picked up my books. A wave of noise hit
me as I entered the hallway, as it does every time. I picked up
conversations here and there: “What are you doing this weekend”
and “I’m so tired,” were among the most common. I got to my
locker and input the combination like a drone. I always thought
memorizing simple things like this was a waste of space in people’s
minds. I kept only a select few of these things in my memory because
they held more importance to me than the rest. Miles’ birthday for
one was engraved into my mind. When I thought about it, a lot of the
things I see as useless bit of information I made an exception with
Miles. I knew his favorite color, music, and food. All of these
things I would have thrown out with anybody else. I chalked it up to
him being my best friend.
My
next class was band, although I never thought of band as a “class.”
Describing something using the word class meant that it was chore to
participate in. Band to me, was a sanctuary. Playing an instrument
was beyond reality. It tore me from life as I knew it to a place of
quiet serenity, but this serenity knew no tacit. It knew splashes of
warm red and yellow to ripples of cool blue and green. The brass
would sing exaltations and fanfares, while the woodwinds flew through
concertos. It was only in band that I could truly express myself. I
was always disappointed when I would have to jump down from my cloud
back to reality-back to life.
I
got home and went straight to my room as I always did. The sunset’s
red and pink hues flooded my room. The window called to me so I lay
down on my bed and drifted asleep, the warmth of the sun cascading
over me.
~~*
A blur of noise and color invaded my mind. I was in a car and Miles
was driving. I thought for a moment and realized Miles didn't have
his driver's license. Things weren't adding up. Another motioned blur washed my vision and I was in school. Miles had gone missing. I
looked around the school and saw people that wouldn't normally be
there such as my late grandmother and old friends that moved away. I
knew then, that I was dreaming.
I
took a few steps forward and found myself in the band room. Miles was
the only one there. He sat at the piano. He was playing but stopped
to look at me. Without a word he walked to the outside exit. I
followed him but as I stepped out the door, a white mist enveloped
me. It evolved to a bluish luminescent glow.
My
eyes staggered open as streaks of weak light crawled through my
blind; a white light. I looked outside and saw the gem in the sky
people call the moon. I checked my cell phone and read 3:35. There
was no way I was getting back to sleep.
It
made me wonder through. Why would I have a dream like that about
Miles? Sure he’s been in my dreams before but nothing this strange
has ever happened. I tossed and turned for the remainder of the
night.
My
eyes shot open. That feeling came back. This time I was in my room,
alone. So what was to account for it? The last thing I remembered was
my dream about Miles. There couldn’t have been some kind of
connection-could there? This was starting to make mt head spin. I
wanted to lay back down and smother my thoughts with my pillow, but I
couldn’t do that because I had to get ready for school. Sometimes I
wished I could smother the school instead...
I
walked through the school with seemingly no pursose. I blocked
everything out. It was nice to have this tired shell. Miles waved to
me from further down the hallway. It took me a moment to realize what
was happening. I waved back and smiled. I didn’t even know I was
smiling until Miles gave me an awkward glance. It seemed to me that
Miles could always make me smile. I could do so little as to walk
next to him and be instantly cheered up. There were times where we
would be walking in complete silence, and I would start laughing. The
laughing became contagious and he would always inquire as to why it
started. But my response was always the same. I just didn’t know.
~~~*
The
bell rung and a deluge of students poured from the classrooms. It was
time for lunch. The only time I saw a spark of life in the hall was
when there was a fight, or there was food.
The
smell of greasy pizza and cheeseburgers assaulted my nose. I used every
ounce of willpower within me not to vomit. The school’s food was
always of the lowest quality that it could be to pass as edible. The
only reason teens like myself rushed to eat these questionable mounds
of slop was because the vast majority of us didn’t have breakfast.
This, being our first meal, naturally we acted as birds of prey.
Although, to call this excuse for food a “meal” was an excruciating glamorization. As if it wasn’t enough that the food smelled rancid, the portion sizes of these processed lunches were
something to weep for. The school gave the least amount of food they
could. The portions were so small, it bordered on the line the
government sought to believe as “adequate enough as to prevent
starvation” Me? I’m not one for the greasy, meaty foods. I’m a vegetarian and thus ordered my salad with a side of light ranch and
looked for Miles.
He
sat at an old picnic table in the back of the school yard. The cherry
trees had just begun to sprout leaves on the very tips of their
limbs. Their lanky, feeble claws reached for the sky, for the
hospitality of the sun, for a purpose, only for naught.
I
sat next to him and he smiled at me; a smile similar to that of Japanese anime. For the first time my uncontrollable subconscious decided it would be a good idea to stare blatantly at his face. He
had a soft face with high cheek bones that made his smile even wider.
His smile itself was perfectly in line and pristine. His jaw was edgy
and aerodynamic, but not intimidating. My gaze floated upward to his
nose. The awkward protrusion on the face was far from an audacity on
his. It was small and uniform to the rest of his face. Then my eyes
made contact with his. The ocean blue color of his iris was
hypnotizing. Anybody could drown in those eyes, and I don’t think
they’d mind.
At
this time his head was cocked to the left and his right brow raised.
I shook myself awake with a sigh. He dismissed this unusual occurrence with a shrug. He always did. When someone would have asked questions,
he chose not to waste his time nor give my mind peace.
We
talked for a while, about how school was going, our families and what
not. All the while I only took two bites of my salad. I didn’t even
like salad anyway. I was lost in our conversation. I cared not for
the instinct to quell my hunger.
The
warning bell rang for the kids in the schoolyard to get back to the
cafeteria. Miles stood up to take his tray and patted my shoulder.
Time seemed to halt at this moment. The camera of reality took a
photo. A tingling sensation sprinted through my body, originating at
my shoulder. These sensations made me want to pull away and linger in
that split second for eternity. It made my hair stand on end.
Unfortunately
this moment’s length was that equivalent to staccato. As he walked
away, I studied him with just a glimpse. He was athletic and fit. He
was thin, but had broad shoulders. His dark hair was short in the
back, parted to the right, and hung slightly over his eyes. He stood
about six feet high, an inch or so taller than me.
~~~~*
Sitting
on the bus, I looked out the window, the meek sparks of sunshine
leaping through the clouds and leaves when they had a chance. The
clouds were a mixture between a dense, fluffy white and a thin,
watery gray. The houses sat in dappled shadows, yearning for the
winter weather to finally recede.
The
bus drove up to my house and I stepped out. My house stood in front
of me, looming as if something ominous were to happen. I walked into
the kitchen and looked through the pantry for a snack. I decided to
take a few plantain chips - something healthy.
As
I made my way up the stairs to my room, my cat slithered out of the
doorway. Anytime she heard me coming down the hallway, she thought it
an immoral sin to be in my bedroom and thus, made her flight.
When
I entered my room I collapsed on my bed. Yet again, Miles sneaked into my thoughts. This got me thinking about my dream and what it meant.
Hoping to have a reoccurring dream, I lay my head down on the plush
pillow and waited for the comfortable darkness of sleep to wave its
hand over my eyes.
~~~~~*
I
breathed heavily and felt hot sweat on my forehead. I was in the band
room at school. I got off the hot floor and looked around to find the
back door open. A thin mist was filling the room and I could feel
tiny drops of cool water against my face. I headed towards the door
to find what was making the mist, but the room kept filling up and I
couldn’t see. Peering through, (what now was a dense cloud) I saw a
figure not too far from me. As I got closer, I saw their out-stretched hand.
“Take
my hand,” they whispered. I reached for it and as soon as I was to
grasp it, an alarm sounded. It made me recoil and look around. I
looked for their hand again, but it was missing. My vision blurred
and reality struck its bell with a silent forte that seemed to
overwhelm my entire being.
The
persistent, nagging alarm on my cell phone rang in my hand. I chucked
it across the room in a drowsy rage. I was closer that time; sort of
the same dream. I grudgingly got out of bed and picked up the pieces
of my phone. Thankfully, only the battery had popped out.
I
got ready for school, anxious to find some answers, or at least
another clue. It was like a newborn motivation. Today, it felt like
the sun had more energy to give the world. I let it soak into my
black t-shirt, welcoming its long awaited return. I could feel the
warmth crawling into my skin. I breathed in the scents of the
dawn-light dew. It was rejuvenating and seemed to pulse through my
blood stream.
My
body itched as I walked into the school. It urged me to find
something with some connection to last night’s dream. I hurried to
the band room and a replay of my dream flashed through my thoughts. I
felt the floor; it was cool to the touch. Walking around the room, I
tried to place myself where the dream started. I stood in the general
area where I saw the hand. The only instrument in the area was a
piano…my first dream had Miles sitting at the piano and then he
went out the back door. Was the hand in my dream his hand? Why would
he want me to take his hand?
All
at once that feeling ran me over; not in the usual wave either. It
was as if an eighteen-wheeler truck of emotion plowed into me. I took
a sharp breath and pursed my lips to cope with the hurt. In a split
second happiness hit me like a water balloon to the back of the head;
a large splash at first, then it dripped to separate parts of my
body. My fingers tingled and chills ran down my spine.
A
hand on my shoulder jerked my thoughts away with a caesura. I turned
and saw Miles with a worried expression upon his face. I sat on the
floor out of shock and put my hands down the support me. I expected a
hollow cold but instead, there was radiant warmth like that in my
dream. The sun was stretching through the window, to the floor. I
held my head in shame for letting Miles find me like that. When his
hand touched my shoulder, it was like a surge of electricity and the
following black out that always trails behind.
“Hey,”
he said getting my attention. My gaze drifted into the pure blue
sapphires they held for eyes. They were a perfect cut with a
glimmering resilience. The natural light of the sun pierced through
them like a prism.
“Get
off the ground. Come on, take my hand.” I repeated those last words
under my breath as I let my limp body be effortlessly dragged to its
feet. It was far too much of a coincidence for him to say that.
“I
was wondering if you could cover tomorrow. We haven’t hung out in
forever.” I just nodded my head. Too many things were being filed
in my mind at that moment to speak. I hoped to find more answers at
his house.
When
I arrived at my house that night, I told my mother that I was going
to Mile’s house that weekend. I received no response as expected.
My tired, aching limbs managed to cart the rest of my body up the
stairs to my room. I slung my shoes off and my feet throbbed. My neck
was stiff and my mind, fatigued. It was about time I had a dream.
~~~~~~*
It
was dark, and cold. I couldn’t see a single thing. I wanted to run,
but to where? It was a futile plight. I heard running water in the
distance. It was like a leaking faucet; dripping one drop of water at
a time. Every time it hit the surface of the darkness, an echo would
bounce off the interior of my skull. The dripping started getting
faster, coming from more than one source. I was getting soaked and
the dripping was making me crazy. I saw the hand again. It was the
same one as before. I could barely make out the smooth contour of the
fingers though all the water. I reached out to grab it. I needed the
comfort.
“You
hold a special place in my heart,” it said. “Take my hand.”
Their whisper drowned out everything else. My fingertips touched
theirs and at an instant the ground gave out. It shattered like
glass, filling my head with this noise. An unbearable, sickening noise.
I
fell through the darkness. I reached for the hand but it disappeared.
I was going faster; increasing speed. The adrenaline in my body was
rising. Then I hit the ground and shook awake. That wasn’t a dream.
That was a nightmare, and if it followed suit, what would that mean
for me in reality?
I
was shaken. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to breathe. It
felt like I hadn’t slept at all. With the little bit of energy that
was left in my body-that wasn’t being converted into anxiety, I got
up and looked in the mirror. I was bewildered. I eyes were blood
shot. The rest of my face had this droopy alertness to it; the feel
of fear.
Now
I was lost. That dream was so nice before all stability broke. I
thought of a couple hypothesis but only one of them made the most
sense: If the hand in my dream belonged to Miles, and if I touched it
again, would something bad happen? My other dream came true to some
degree, so what right did I have to not expect this one as well?
I
didn’t want to touch Miles, or anybody else for that matter for the
fear of my feet giving way beneath me. I would be going to Miles’
house later that same day. I dreaded every second thereafter my
epiphany.
~~~~~~~*
At
school I was inattentive in my classes. If the teachers called on me
I jumped and had no confidence in my voice. People started looking at
me as if I had paranoia. Class let out and I hurried to the door. I
was headed to my locker and Miles walked up to me in the hall and
touched my shoulder. I almost screamed. The same feeling of
adrenaline and relief as before, I thought to myself. I flinched and
he shot me a worried glance.
“Are
we still on for today? You look like something’s wrong,” he said
with a pure voice. I shook my head.
“I’m…just
a bit tired is all,” I managed to squeak out and trailed off. He
flashed one of those perfect smiles my way and walked to his next
class. That smile put me at ease a bit and helped me get through the
day.
As
time melted through the essence of reality, I dreaded going to Miles’
house more and more with every passing moment. There was no way I was
going to let him down though. There was this new feeling inside me
now. I was scared and anxious. This feeling flitted about my insides
making me feel awkward. It pulled me back and pushed me on wards like
a tug of war. With every breath it intensified and hurt, but without
knowing the direction it was taking me, I kept breathing to figure
out its cause. My confusion was turning me into a masochist of emotions just to find some answers.
I
walked up to his doorstep with my overnight bag in hand. The ice cold
Sword of Judgment seemed to fall from the just heavens above me,
telling me to accept whatever fate was in store for me. With each
step I felt the earth crumbling away from my feet. I rang the
doorbell and a boat dropped anchor in my stomach.
Miles’
mom greeted me. She had the same oceanic blue eyes as her son, but
this pair didn’t seem to take effect on me. He was in the kitchen
making a smoothie. I zoned out on the blender and the motorized
buzzing rattled my brain. A pair of snapped fingers brought me back.
I sometimes wondered if I thought too much or if there was something
wrong with me. He walked down the hallway to his room and motioned
for me to follow.
I
sat at the foot of his bed and he lay on his stomach with knees bent;
feet in the air. He rested his chin on his hands; propped up to
support his head. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
“Hey,
we have this romance movie. Want to watch it and make fun of it?”
he asked. I nodded my silent response and he pressed play.
The
movie wasn’t as cheesy as I thought it was going to be. The plot
was simple enough though; man and woman have child, child dies and
they both use their love to support each other through their loss.
The
guy, at one point, was trying to cheer his wife up and said, “You
hold a special place in my heart.” Fear slapped my spine straight.
That was the line from my dream - my nightmare. Whatever was going to
happen was going to happen now. Without thought, my mouth pushed out
the words,
“Do I hold a special place in your heart Miles?” I had
officially lost all control of my subconscious it seemed. Without
hesitation, he answered.
“Of
course you do. You hold a special place in my heart because of our
connection to music, and, well…” At first I thought he was joking
around to the movie, but I turned to him and his eyes met mine, dead
on. The cerulean blue of his eyes had a golden amber ring around the
pupils. It was the ominous ring encircling the moon during a solar
eclipse; or perhaps it was his inner halo.
I
waited for the impending rapture that was sure to come and stared
into those eyes for curiosity and comfort, but nothing happened.
There was no dripping water or shattered ground. Just still, silent
time, clicking by. This time Miles didn’t ask why I was starring at
him. He stared back with the same vehement.
At
that very moment the feeling of sheer joy and feeling of judgment
pulsed under my skin. They mixed together to form this sensation of
concentrated conviction. Although the happiness and fear were still
present, I still felt safe. I didn’t care that I still didn’t
know why I was having this feeling. I embraced it with all my
willpower and a rush of relief closely followed.
Tears
began to roll down my face like drops of mercury. He reached out to
wipe them away. Every time the side of his hand grazed my cheek I was
shot with an arrow of comfort and tranquility. I moved closer to him
and he hugged me. All of the pain burst from my heart and soul then.
“I…had
so much hurt,” I sobbed and clenched the back of his shirt with
white knuckles. “And…all I did was…c-cover it up. I was
blocking it out. I-” He stopped me by placing a gentle finger on my
lips. He leaned closer and closed his eyes which were my paradise; my
refuge.
“Kiss
me,” he said. I hesitated and asked myself if all of this was real.
He put his hands on the sides of my face and pulled me in. When our lips touched, my heart sang fireworks. His lips were curvy and soft.
He may have been smiling through our lips. When people say there is
no such thing as perfection, that’s because they don’t know the
true essence of what it entails. Perfection is an emotion, which can
only be felt once. It is a feeling of no flaw and it will take you to
an alternate dimension, for just a moment.
I
felt perfection when I kissed Miles.
~~~~~~~~*
I
awoke feeling Miles’ arms around me like my vanguard. They were
wrapped around my chest like suspenders. I felt so safe and at
peace. There was no other feeling of satisfaction that could compare
to waking up in his arms. I lay there for a while, letting everything
sink in. There I was, being loved for who I was, for the first time.
I was feeling my emotions again instead of putting up my usual
façade. He sighed after sometime and I knew he was awake. With every
breath of his I was reassured that I could let my emotions flow
freely and trust once more. I turned around to face his paragon eyes.
They sparkled with a new fire this morning. There was determination
in his eyes, determination to make me happy.
After
staying in bed for an hour, enjoying each other’s company, Miles
got up and packed my bag for me. I held his free hand in both of
mine. There was this new aura about him that made him more confident.
Perhaps it was because he had something to fight for now. We walked
into the kitchen and Miles made me breakfast: pancakes and eggs with
oranges. We spent the morning together at the park. We sat next to
the pond and it seemed to smile at us. The air was warm, and
everything was quiet. We looked to the sky and dark clouds began to
roll in. Miles decided it would be good to get me home while the rain
held off.
We
walked back to his house, hand in hand. There wasn’t a thing in the
world that could get me down. As long as I had Miles, everything
would be all right. He handed me my bag at the door and we stared at
one another for a brief moment.
“Just
tell me if you ever need anything.” He gave my hand a peck and we
said good-bye. I couldn’t stop thinking about him or the previous
night. My lips could still feel the tingling chill from his kiss. If
personalities had tastes, his was delicious.
The
dark gray clouds loomed in the sky as I tread to my house. A bass
drum of thunder sounded above me while the sidewalk gained small, wet
polka dots. The rain started crashing down in sheets and I stood
there, letting it wash away the final bit of fear and hurt from my
body. When I arrived at my house I was drenched. I proceeded to
bathroom. My parents gave me an awkward look as I passed them I
looked in the in the mirror and saw this spark; a life in my eyes I
forgot existed. For once, my eyes had a turn to be gems.
That
day was the beginning of something I needed. I had gone for such a
long period of time relying on just myself, and when I needed
somebody else and there was nobody there, I turned into a husk of
emptiness. Now I had somebody to support me, to pick me up when I
fell down. I had something to fight for and fight for me. Miles
helped me tear down my wall and see what was on the other side.
~~~~~~~~~*
Within
the next few days Miles took his driver’s test and passed. He
called me when it happened and set up a day to go to the movies
together. We decided on Thursday. I counted the seconds until we were
able to see each other again.
Miles
pulled up in a dark blue Charger. It was only visible because of the
streetlights. The night was darker than the abyss of the ocean
trench. The clouds covered the glow of the moon and headlights solely
granted sight. The day Miles and I kissed brought rain, and this rain
seemed everlasting. I ran from my house to the car. I didn’t
actually care if I got wet or not, but I didn’t want to ruin his
new car. He held my left hand in his right as he drove. The rain kept
pounding down. The windshield wipers were almost of no use. There was
a split second of sight and water would glide across the glass again.
I
got this very bad feeling all of a sudden. Everything was dark; there
was water, dripping. I was holding Miles’ hand. It was almost as if
I was having déjà vu. Miles hit the brakes hard when we came to an
intersection. It all added up to me then. The pedal stuck, and a car
from the driver’s side struck the front half of the car. I remember
the car spinning, the screeching tear of metal, and car horns
blazing, but it was all in slow motion. I looked over to miles for a
split second and saw the awestruck fear grip his body. His scream of
pure despair shot through the wind like a bullet above everything
else and scarred my memory.
We
smashed into a telephone pole and finally came to a stop. Once I
found myself I stepped out of the car in a daze. Cars were stuck in
traffic; shattered glass lay on the road. I staggered to the driver’s
seat and my body fell into shock.
Where
the door was hit, it ripped, and cut into Miles at his torso. Blood
stained the entire lower half of his body. I struggled to get the car
door open but to no avail. I hit the car with open palms and fell to
the ground. I screamed louder than I have in my entire life, but
there couldn't have been a soul that actually heard it. Glass found
its way into my hands but I didn’t care. I fell back into my shell
as I heard the siren to the ambulance getting closer and closer, but
I knew it was too late. They pulled me away from the car, and Miles,
to tend to my wounds. They started asking me questions but all I
could do is shake my head in disbelief. My eyes undressed in liquid
serenades when I saw his body getting dragged from the wrecked car.
That’s when I blacked out.
He
was pronounced dead at the scene. How could I have let myself trust
someone with all of my heart for it to be crushed? I stopped talking
for the next two months after the incident. I said nothing at his
funeral. He was the only one that knew my pain and how I felt. I
wanted to keep it that way because our bond of ours was too special
for me to share with anyone else.
My
parents struggled to get me to interact with them. They would ask me
about the accident but I just shook my head as images of the scene
flashed from my mind and a growing look of horror emerged on my face.
They didn’t know what else to do so they eventually sent me to a
mental hospital to recover from the shock. I know they didn’t want
to get rid of me; they just couldn’t help me in any other way.
The
hospital let me write about what happened as a healing process. They
made me remember the good times with Miles, although I never forgot a
single thing. You remember everything that happens in accidents like
that: every sound, and every image.
My
name is Landen Pierce, and today I get set free. I turn this page in
my life to try to start again. I know that’s the way Miles would
have wanted it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
