Wake Up

The sun reflected off of the surface of a small, secluded pond.  At the shore's edge, the girl who was not Stasia sat on a smooth boulder slightly shaded by a weeping willow.  Her face showed no expression, and the dark rim around her near colorless irises enhanced her deathly countenance.  A breeze picked up her long raven hair which gently swirled around her hunched shoulders.  She made as if to brush it away, but her fingers curled around the hair at the scalp, clutching, pulling.  Elbows on knees, fists to forehead, the sad entity sat there on the rock trying not to cry.  Gradually, the sky darkened.  When the sunshine was hidden, the girl lifted her head to gaze at the pool of water.  A bare foot moved to the rocky beach; she left her seat to move a few paces closer to the pond.  Raindrops started falling from the overcast sky, so she held her palms up to better feel the tears that nature wept for her.  Her eyes were now the deepest of grays, a reflection of the dim atmosphere.  With resolve, she waded into the water.  The rain fell harder.  She walked farther.  Silent lightning flashed in her eyes.  Deeper she went.  Thunder cracked, and the merest of smiles briefly played on her cupid-bow lips.  Her head went under and she expelled all of her breath, letting herself sink to the bottom.  Lightning struck and split the willow, the deep bellow of thunder an echoing eulogy.  All faded to black.

        Gasping for breath, Stasia sat up abruptly, convulsively seizing at her throat and chest, trying to leave the nightmare behind.  Her lungs weren't working, she needed air.  Slowly, she took in her surroundings, calmed, and told herself to breathe... inhale... hold it... exhale. 

        As the dream of her alternate self faded, so did the pain it inflicted.  The fire was all but dead, so she stamped it completely out and packed her things in the SUV.  Her head felt foggy, and colorful images danced in her memory.  Taking a moment to absorb her surroundings before heading back to the city, Stasia Benedict looked at her favorite camping spot, chewing on her lip in abstract thought.

        Before drowning, there was something nice.  There was someone... there, with her.  She looked up at the canopy of trees and a memory of floating up and away came back to her.  Addicus, she thought.  In a rush she recalled the previous night, and in vivid detail reviewed the would-be dream, remembering the lucid sensations and phantasmagorical colors and feelings.  Her skin was instantly chill, goosebumps rising everywhere.  Stasia Benedict found herself intrigued. 

        Perhaps, about these unusual occurrences with her vision, and the appearances of the all-too-familiar Fay and Addicus, Stasia actually found herself giving a s**t.  For once, she was existentially inclined rather than nihilistically bound.  Something mattered.

        She ensured that the fire was completely out, and packed her things in the truck.  As she was about to leave, something caught her eyes through the treetops.  Not too far off in the distance, atop a neighboring mountain, she saw a white tree.  Stasia stood for an immeasurable time in shock.

        The drive home felt more of a dream than the previous night.