Waking Nightmare

Chapter 11 of Banished for Love

I maneuver my way home in a daze, weaving through the trees purely by instinct. I step through the familiar front door and up the stairs to Janie’s room. I don’t bother turning on her bedside lamp, what with the moonlight pouring in. I pull back the thin white curtains and push the window open as far as it will go, allowing the light breeze to blow across me. I lean out the window, closing my eyes for a moment, enjoying the serenity of the night. I turn back to the darkened room and collapse into Janie’s love sack, an item I had considered stealing away to Jeremy’s house, but he already has one in his room I can use.

 

Thinking of Jeremy slams me into another wall of guilt.  I had spent the entire day, alone, getting to know another guy. How was I going to explain this to him?

 

Who says you have to tell him? A dark voice from within inquires. I ponder this. The voice does have a point, it’s not like I owed him an explanation, not really. But a lighter voice wonders how could I lie to him about something like this? As I ponder, I slowly drift off to sleep. A dream plays out in front of me, almost like a movie. Though I seem to be invisible, as if I’m a ghost, to all others in the dream.

 

Before me is a dark battlefield with foreboding thunderclouds lurking above. It appears to be dusk atop a rocky plateau. Fallen warriors litter the ground, dead or dying. In the distance, I see many small battles between two opposing sides, but it’s the one closest to me that I focus my attention on.

 

Two warriors, seeming equally matched in skill and strength, are locked in a fight to the death before me. As they spin and thrust their swords, trying to make as well as avoid contact, I notice each has a pair of wings protruding from slits in the back of their armor. One of the warriors has the pure white feathery wings of a stereotypical angel. The other has black skeletal demon-esque wings. They remind me of yin and yang; black and white, good and evil, perfectly balanced. Somehow, both warriors seem strangely familiar, though I can’t quite put my finger on how or why.

 

As I watch, mesmerized by the dance-like battle, one of the warriors cries out, “She will be mine!” and buries his blade deep into the other warrior’s chest, killing him instantly. I scream in anguish for the fallen warrior, but before I can discern which side had triumphed, I am ripped jarringly from the dream. I wake with a pounding heart and tear-filled eyes.

 

***

 

Jeremy’s Point of View

 

I wake with a start, a featherlight whisper across my mind makes me feel as though something is very wrong. I silently rush out of my house, careful not to alert my parents to my departure, and over to Kelsey’s. Still following this instinctual feeling, I enter Kelsey’s house, heading upstairs. I hear quiet crying as I pass by one of the bedrooms, so I turn back and push open the door.

 

Kelsey is there, curled in on herself sobbing quietly. Without saying a word, I walk over to sit beside her, pulling her gently into my arms and rocking her lightly.

 

“Shh, shh,” I croon, trying to soothe whatever may be troubling her.

 

“It was such a t-terrible nightm-mare,” she says, attempting to control her tears.

 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re alright. It was only a dream,” I say, running my fingers through her hair.

 

“When d-did I become such a cr-crybaby,” she stutters, trying to lighten the mood. I smile. She sniffles and lightly kisses my bare chest, near the base of my throat. My entire body quivers at the gesture and I am slammed with a strong feeling I don’t immediately recognize.

 

Lust, I soon realize. White hot passion begins to course through me as I cradle her to my chest. She trails her nose from the top of my chest to the edge of my jaw, her breath tickling as it skitters across my skin.

 

Instinct kicks in, insistent and strong. I shift so she is lying on the love sack, her face still tucked along my throat, and I am hovering above her. I trail my hand up under her shirt, along her sides. She reaches her arms around me to run hers along my spine. I shudder as her fingers trail like a whisper from the small of my back to the nape of my neck, twining into my hair. I lean my head down to leave my own trail of light kisses, starting at her temple, I work my way down her face and along her throat. When I reach the soft curve between her neck and shoulder, a low moan escapes me.

 

I want her screams through my lust fogged brain as I slide my hand further along her side, lifting her shirt as I do.

 

“Jeremy,” Kelsey says softly, her hands coming to rest on my chest.

 

“Mmm,” I murmur into her skin, my tongue flicking out to run up the side of her neck, tasting her.

 

“Jeremy,” she repeats a little more sternly, giving my chest a gentle shove. I pull back to gaze into her eyes, shimmering in the moonlight coming through the window.

 

“I can see where this is going, but I can’t let it get there,” she says, shutting her eyes tightly against the words. I can see she is trying to squirm out from under me, so I move to the side, allowing her to sit up. Rejection washes painfully through me, nearly knocking the air from my lungs. Confusion joins it in the swirling hurricane of hurt battering my heart due to her reaction. I gaze at her, this hurt clear on my face.

 

“Please don’t look at me like that,” she says quietly, keeping her head down and fidgeting with her hands.

 

“Why? I thought…” I say quietly, fighting the urge to break down infrustration at my wounded pride. I trail off when her head snaps up to look at me, eyes brimming with anguish.

 

“Did you forget I can’t feel? That half of the enjoyment, the passion I could have got from that was lost because I couldn’t feel any of it. I still want to connect with you emotionally, but physically... I wish I could feel it the way you do, I really do, but I just can’t. Would you really get any sort of pleasure out of that when you know it means so much less to me?” she says, angry tears overflowing.

 

“You know damn well I wasn’t just doing it for pleasure,” I respond, stung at the accusation.

 

“That... That's not what I meant,” she whispers, suddenly contrite.

 

“Well, it sure sounded like it. I can’t believe you’d think so little of me,” I say, cut deep by her words.

 

“You know I think the world of you. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I just… I… I…” tears flowing freely down her pained face, she stands and flees from the house.

 

I sit there for a moment, trying to get my anger and heartache under control. I stomp down the stairs and back to my own room to sleep. As if I could now.