He looks up at the big moon with me, and I find my gaze drifting, turning to look at his eyes so that I can see the moon’s reflection in them. Sure enough, it’s like I’m staring into a lake’s surface. “I grew up a mile or so that way,” he points towards the tree line ahead of us. I turned away from his face to follow his pointed finger, where I saw the lights and heard voices earlier. “I grew up with ten younger brothers and sisters.”
“That’s a lot of siblings.” I say, looking back at his handsome face. His jaw is clean and sharp looking, his lips thick, with a scar going through the top and lower right corner. It has a brother, going across his right eye. I move my gaze down to his neck, where I can see dark blue lines wrapping around from the back. I gently nudge his jawline, and he complies, twisting his head so I can see the back of his neck. I try to ignore the spark I feel when I touch his skin. A large circle tattoo, which is sliced like a pie, is on the back of his neck. Each slice has smaller drawings in it, but he looks back at me before I have enough time to study each one.
I move on to his chest, which is broad looking, as though he works out every day. Tons of physical labor was probably more accurate. Something about him and this place made me feel like he wasn’t spending his free time lifting weights in the gym. And his muscles weren't super defined and cut looking, but they were definitely big and present.
“I do a lot of the hard work.” He smiles at my blushing cheeks. His legs are long and covered by dark brown pants, and his feet are huge, covered by scruffy looking wool socks. I was noticing he was… abnormally tall.
“You shouldn’t walk around barefoot.” I say. I feel silly as he looks down at my bare toes, which are painted a pale pink that I thought complimented my tan complexion nicely. He nudges my foot with his as though emphasizing the ridiculousness of my statement.
His eyes travel up my body, and even though I had just done the same to him, I am suddenly aware of the fact that I’m only in a thin tank top and cotton shorts. I’d never been lacking in the chest department, and the top stopped a bit too low for my taste. I cough, wiggling around a bit.
“Why are we here?” I ask, playing with the hem of my top. He chuckles, and graciously plays along with my subject change.
He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze suddenly. He grabs a handful of grass and rips it from the earth. I flinch a little, but ignore it and focus on him. He stares at the ground, ripping the grass into smaller and smaller pieces for a long moment before speaking again.
“I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to you since you were born… but now I think I may have waited too long.” I sit up now, listening fully.
“Explain that, please.” I stare into his eyes, searching for an answer to the mysterious and ominous thing he just said. Something in me was telling me to stop talking to him, to run away, to avoid this conversation.
But an even bigger part of me was demanding answers.
At that moment, everything starts to blur away, like a watercolor painting being washed away in water. The edges of my vision, the huge old pine trees, are melting away. I stood up quickly, my heart rate increasing as the world around me dribbled away rapidly.
“Don’t be scared, you’re just about to wake up.” I calm a little at his hands on my arms suddenly. He stares into my eyes, something in his that I can’t quite place.
“This time, you’re going to remember.”
I snap awake, and become aware of everything all at once. The back of my neck is drenched in sweat. My dog is staring at me. It was only a dream. After the last realization, a kind of hole forms in the middle of my chest, and I can feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes. All traces of wonder and hope that came with being in a good dream washed away as my consciousness returned. I sit up, and hold my dog's head in my hands. “It was just a dream.” I tell her, and she responds by licking her waggly chops. I sigh, and let go of her face. I throw my blanket off of me, and perch on the edge of the bed. I can see my reflection in the tall black framed mirror that I have leaning against the wall across the room. My dark brown eyes look wide and wild. My shoulder length black hair is matted in the back, making it look thicker than it usually is. Even from across the room I can tell it looks like I’ve just seen a ghost.Dream or not, that was intense. I rub my fingers together, and
“I got this.” I say to my mother, stretching my neck forward to see the front of the line.It’s been four days since my dream. The day of the dream, I hadn’t really done anything. I fed my dog breakfast and then went back to bed until three, until I had to get up and get ready for work at five. Work had been busy, a pleasant distraction from thinking about my dream. The next few days after that I spent mostly trying to occupy my mind. I cleaned the house and my room, gave my dog a bath, sorted out some clothes to sell for extra cash, stuff like that. My mom thought I was on drugs and I think she was seriously considering buying an at home drug test.I’ve obviously slept since then, and no dreams like that have happened again. I had a dream that I was a mermaid trapped in disney world, and I swear, I could see the guy from the field standing outside my tank, watching me with those blue eyes that captured the moon so perfectly. I mean I know he had said he was from my dreams but... I h
That night I didn't get home until almost four in the morning. I worked a late shift at the twenty four hour dinner I had been at for a couple years now, and since I could now drive myself home, I decided to go through a drive thru and eat my dinner in the parking lot. I was fully, all the way, avoiding my own dreams. What my mom had said earlier kind of… shook me. I sat in the empty parking lot for almost a whole hour, just thinking about everything that was clogging up my brain gears recently. I had compiled a list of observations: One: this guy was obviously some miserable creation my own lonely mind created to compensate for the lack of male presence in my life. I mean, I had no dad, no boyfriend or even a close male friend for that matter. That was bound to cause some inner turmoil, right?Two: my mother probably thought I was dreaming about becoming a doctor and wanted me to take that into consideration when choosing what I was going to college for, and that’s why she acted l
I shake my head, and turn to my right, making my way through the treeline, trying to push that very strange encounter to the back of my mind. The forest is pleasantly thick, but not so thick that I can’t see far enough ahead of me. I walk for about ten minutes before I can see a house to my left a few hundred feet ahead. I assume that’s the boy’s house, which hopefully means the field shouldn’t be too much farther ahead. I have no idea if that’s actually true, since I’ve only been here one time and in one place. But I was trying to be hopeful. I walk quickly, feeling slightly pressed for time. Last time it was days before I could come back, what if it’s longer this time? What if it’s a week, or a month, or a year? I don’t really know this boy too much, but for some reason the thought of not seeing him for a year makes my heart knot up. I laughed at myself a little. I had dreaded coming back here so much, but really only because I knew how much it would hurt to get ripped away from it
This time when my eyes snap open, I’m not feeling so sad and lonely. I’m confused as ever and a little irritated. Scratch that, a lot irritated. He knew going in for a kiss would scare the shit out of me, and used it to wake me up. I sit up, trying to process what I just “dreamt” about. Who were those people trying to find me? Why was that guy so scared of them? Scared might not have been the right word… but he was definitely wary of them to say the least.And who was that that called for me? I could remember the exact pitch of his voice calling out into the night. “Little flower…” I feel almost… regretful… that I didn’t see the face it belonged to.I shake my head, focusing on what really mattered. Were my dreams more than dreams? Was this a real place and a real person I was visiting and talking to? It was seeming more and more like that was the case. I felt insane even thinking that, but what was I supposed to think at this point?I sat there in my bed for a few minutes collecti
It was almost two in the afternoon before I finally gave up. I closed my laptop that I’d had to plug in while I used it from draining the battery, and tossed it on the foot of my bed. I had let my dog out hours ago. She had no interest in research, only in frockling in the back yard. I left my room, shutting my wooden door a bit forcefully behind me. The house was cool and quiet, all I could hear was my mom’s cat padding around somewhere. I stood there in the hallway for a moment, staring at a picture of my dad that hung on the wall, along with various other pictures. We had gone on a fishing trip; I was only four and the small perch my mother had photographed me holding had felt like a shark in size to little me. My dad died when I was eight, from a heart attack. I loved him, and I miss him every day I walk down this hallway and see these pictures of him, smiling and frozen in time. That gives me an idea. My legs and mind kick into gear with the fresh thought seared into my min
She stares at the picture, as though what I’m saying is irrelevant. She backs up and flops down into one of the brown armchairs taking up a corner of the room. Her eyes stare off a little, and she sighs. It’s a good minute before she says anything, and when she does, it’s like she’s talking to herself rather than to me. “Your father and I used to live in a really crappy town down south before we moved here and started over. We were young and broke and couldn’t afford anything better. So we ended up living in kind of a dump around people who gave us nothing but bad memories… especially your father. We moved there to get away from people, to be by ourselves. You know already my parents weren’t very nice, and your father’s died when he was young. I was tired of living under the same roof as them and your dad… well he didn’t care where we went. He always said he just wanted to be by my side. So we settled for less, just to get away. It just caused trouble for us, though. At first, every
I nod, keep a hold on my one picture of the field, and stand up. Neither me or my mother say anything as I slowly walk to my room. I wanted her to stop me, to tell me she was sorry for saying that and that she would support me in finding out what the hell was happening with me. I wanted to know that even if this didn't work out, I would still have her.But she didn’t. I walked into my room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. I close my eyes, slide down the length of it, and bury my face in my hands. I jump a little when I feel my dog’s nose brushing my forearm. I glance up, my throat on fire and my eyes already brimming over with tears.I grab her face in my hands, staring into her aging yellow eyes. She had gray hair all over her face, her lips and ears drooped more every day, and lately she had developed a limp. The vet had just said it was her joints, and apart from a special diet and exercise routine, there was nothing we could do to help her. She was just gett
I nod, keep a hold on my one picture of the field, and stand up. Neither me or my mother say anything as I slowly walk to my room. I wanted her to stop me, to tell me she was sorry for saying that and that she would support me in finding out what the hell was happening with me. I wanted to know that even if this didn't work out, I would still have her.But she didn’t. I walked into my room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. I close my eyes, slide down the length of it, and bury my face in my hands. I jump a little when I feel my dog’s nose brushing my forearm. I glance up, my throat on fire and my eyes already brimming over with tears.I grab her face in my hands, staring into her aging yellow eyes. She had gray hair all over her face, her lips and ears drooped more every day, and lately she had developed a limp. The vet had just said it was her joints, and apart from a special diet and exercise routine, there was nothing we could do to help her. She was just gett
She stares at the picture, as though what I’m saying is irrelevant. She backs up and flops down into one of the brown armchairs taking up a corner of the room. Her eyes stare off a little, and she sighs. It’s a good minute before she says anything, and when she does, it’s like she’s talking to herself rather than to me. “Your father and I used to live in a really crappy town down south before we moved here and started over. We were young and broke and couldn’t afford anything better. So we ended up living in kind of a dump around people who gave us nothing but bad memories… especially your father. We moved there to get away from people, to be by ourselves. You know already my parents weren’t very nice, and your father’s died when he was young. I was tired of living under the same roof as them and your dad… well he didn’t care where we went. He always said he just wanted to be by my side. So we settled for less, just to get away. It just caused trouble for us, though. At first, every
It was almost two in the afternoon before I finally gave up. I closed my laptop that I’d had to plug in while I used it from draining the battery, and tossed it on the foot of my bed. I had let my dog out hours ago. She had no interest in research, only in frockling in the back yard. I left my room, shutting my wooden door a bit forcefully behind me. The house was cool and quiet, all I could hear was my mom’s cat padding around somewhere. I stood there in the hallway for a moment, staring at a picture of my dad that hung on the wall, along with various other pictures. We had gone on a fishing trip; I was only four and the small perch my mother had photographed me holding had felt like a shark in size to little me. My dad died when I was eight, from a heart attack. I loved him, and I miss him every day I walk down this hallway and see these pictures of him, smiling and frozen in time. That gives me an idea. My legs and mind kick into gear with the fresh thought seared into my min
This time when my eyes snap open, I’m not feeling so sad and lonely. I’m confused as ever and a little irritated. Scratch that, a lot irritated. He knew going in for a kiss would scare the shit out of me, and used it to wake me up. I sit up, trying to process what I just “dreamt” about. Who were those people trying to find me? Why was that guy so scared of them? Scared might not have been the right word… but he was definitely wary of them to say the least.And who was that that called for me? I could remember the exact pitch of his voice calling out into the night. “Little flower…” I feel almost… regretful… that I didn’t see the face it belonged to.I shake my head, focusing on what really mattered. Were my dreams more than dreams? Was this a real place and a real person I was visiting and talking to? It was seeming more and more like that was the case. I felt insane even thinking that, but what was I supposed to think at this point?I sat there in my bed for a few minutes collecti
I shake my head, and turn to my right, making my way through the treeline, trying to push that very strange encounter to the back of my mind. The forest is pleasantly thick, but not so thick that I can’t see far enough ahead of me. I walk for about ten minutes before I can see a house to my left a few hundred feet ahead. I assume that’s the boy’s house, which hopefully means the field shouldn’t be too much farther ahead. I have no idea if that’s actually true, since I’ve only been here one time and in one place. But I was trying to be hopeful. I walk quickly, feeling slightly pressed for time. Last time it was days before I could come back, what if it’s longer this time? What if it’s a week, or a month, or a year? I don’t really know this boy too much, but for some reason the thought of not seeing him for a year makes my heart knot up. I laughed at myself a little. I had dreaded coming back here so much, but really only because I knew how much it would hurt to get ripped away from it
That night I didn't get home until almost four in the morning. I worked a late shift at the twenty four hour dinner I had been at for a couple years now, and since I could now drive myself home, I decided to go through a drive thru and eat my dinner in the parking lot. I was fully, all the way, avoiding my own dreams. What my mom had said earlier kind of… shook me. I sat in the empty parking lot for almost a whole hour, just thinking about everything that was clogging up my brain gears recently. I had compiled a list of observations: One: this guy was obviously some miserable creation my own lonely mind created to compensate for the lack of male presence in my life. I mean, I had no dad, no boyfriend or even a close male friend for that matter. That was bound to cause some inner turmoil, right?Two: my mother probably thought I was dreaming about becoming a doctor and wanted me to take that into consideration when choosing what I was going to college for, and that’s why she acted l
“I got this.” I say to my mother, stretching my neck forward to see the front of the line.It’s been four days since my dream. The day of the dream, I hadn’t really done anything. I fed my dog breakfast and then went back to bed until three, until I had to get up and get ready for work at five. Work had been busy, a pleasant distraction from thinking about my dream. The next few days after that I spent mostly trying to occupy my mind. I cleaned the house and my room, gave my dog a bath, sorted out some clothes to sell for extra cash, stuff like that. My mom thought I was on drugs and I think she was seriously considering buying an at home drug test.I’ve obviously slept since then, and no dreams like that have happened again. I had a dream that I was a mermaid trapped in disney world, and I swear, I could see the guy from the field standing outside my tank, watching me with those blue eyes that captured the moon so perfectly. I mean I know he had said he was from my dreams but... I h
I snap awake, and become aware of everything all at once. The back of my neck is drenched in sweat. My dog is staring at me. It was only a dream. After the last realization, a kind of hole forms in the middle of my chest, and I can feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes. All traces of wonder and hope that came with being in a good dream washed away as my consciousness returned. I sit up, and hold my dog's head in my hands. “It was just a dream.” I tell her, and she responds by licking her waggly chops. I sigh, and let go of her face. I throw my blanket off of me, and perch on the edge of the bed. I can see my reflection in the tall black framed mirror that I have leaning against the wall across the room. My dark brown eyes look wide and wild. My shoulder length black hair is matted in the back, making it look thicker than it usually is. Even from across the room I can tell it looks like I’ve just seen a ghost.Dream or not, that was intense. I rub my fingers together, and
He looks up at the big moon with me, and I find my gaze drifting, turning to look at his eyes so that I can see the moon’s reflection in them. Sure enough, it’s like I’m staring into a lake’s surface. “I grew up a mile or so that way,” he points towards the tree line ahead of us. I turned away from his face to follow his pointed finger, where I saw the lights and heard voices earlier. “I grew up with ten younger brothers and sisters.”“That’s a lot of siblings.” I say, looking back at his handsome face. His jaw is clean and sharp looking, his lips thick, with a scar going through the top and lower right corner. It has a brother, going across his right eye. I move my gaze down to his neck, where I can see dark blue lines wrapping around from the back. I gently nudge his jawline, and he complies, twisting his head so I can see the back of his neck. I try to ignore the spark I feel when I touch his skin. A large circle tattoo, which is sliced like a pie, is on the back of his neck. Each