Chapter Two (Rough Draft)

Not completely done yet.

Her bark was always bigger than her bite. I shook my head and raised my hand in the air and declared myself the devils child and walked the disconnected steps to my room. She let it go. I knew she was going to. I thought I would find solace in the space that was dictated as my room but that expectation fell short. My parents had been building their “dream home” for the last 4 years and have yet been able to move into the fruit of their labors. And as the youngest in the household and the only one still rooted to the family homestead I was forced to move from home to home disposing of them like cleanex. So the room around me didn’t have that distinct expression of who I was and couldn’t be translated. Staring around the desolate walls I couldn’t see any extension of myself. I felt stranded in an empty ocean floating on the crumbled remains of my life. The digital read out of my clock read close to eleven. Early, but I just wanted to sleep. Hailey’s face had been a constant pop up in my mind since they had discarded me on the concrete sidewalk a few hours prior. My mind needed rest. Popping the cap on my bottle of heaven. I downed two of the sleeping pills and felt the comfort spread through me. I felt the ground get sturdier under my feet. I wasn’t addicted. I wasn’t. I just needed them. The sheets were cold yet comfortingly warm. My shoes fell silently off my feet. Then the world went murky.

There was fighting. I could feel the heat from the battle consuming my body. Swords clashed and thunder erupted from the steel. An epic battle ground splayed with blood and carnage lay at my feet. Buzzards and flies encased the withering bodies at my feet. I could smell the stench of the war. Fear, pain, and warriors sweating under styled armor. My body clinked when I moved my feet. Metal meet my skin in a sharp pinch that made me look down. Silver and blood met my gaze. Etched into my armor was Saint George. Delicate, yet ferocious. The sword in my hand felt awkward. I swung it with ease, but with the swish of the steel it held an odd heaviness.

“Colin!!” A womanly voice echoed off the bodies. “Colin Move!” I heard it. But where the voice was coming from…I couldn’t decipher. The voice was delicate, feminine, yet strong. Despite the warning my feet stayed planted. My body became fine tuned to my surroundings. Trying to find the danger the voice was alluding to. Knowledge I had no remembrance of to the sword in my hand filled the empty storage in my consciousness. “Damnit you stubborn b*****d!” The sound seemed whispered in my ear. My body turned to face the speaker. The sword that came at me was blazing. The instructor’s face was a reverberation of the battle at hand. Hair mangled with blood and flesh, face battered and beaten, drove the sword home. I choked on the blood that rose up my throat. The rusted taste gagged me and mingled with the acidity of the stomach lining I was regurgitating.

In the distance, the face of the preempted warning appeared. She was outside of my vision’s focused site. But her silhouette reflected off the crimson field. She turned her gaze to my chest, and turned her face away. I wanted to believe the look she passed was a pained look. But as my sight began to waiver, her expression was lost. Her appearance seemed so familiar to me. And her face haunted me as I mingled with the remains. Flies gathered to my frame buzzing around my face.

It was the buzzing that woke me. The sound was so loud in my ear I batted the phantom flies away from my ear. But the buzzing continued. It took me awhile to realize it was my phone. I had fallen asleep with it next to my pillow.

“Yes?”

“Did I wake you?” Marissa’s lack of interest of whether or not she had woken me up should have bothered me. But after the dream she had interrupted I was willing for the change of pace. I turned my unwilling body to peak at the clock. It read not much past midnight. The dream had seemed an eternity when in reality it hadn’t taken more than an hour for my epic dreamscape to take place.

“Yeah you did. But what’s up?”

“ So! What do you think of her?” She was brimming for the gossip she felt confident was coming. The phone vibrated with her need for the news.

“I don’t know. She was…cute.” Beautiful was the better word.

“SO you like her?! Oh how cute wait till I tell her!”

“Wait…What?!”

“Oh don’t worry I’ll make you look cool! Night Col!” she let out a high pitched giggle and hung up the phone.

What…the…hell just happened.

The world was obscuring again. The pills that I took only allowing a minor break to the job it was forged to complete. I willed my mind to not let me go back to the battle dream. My heart beat fast as I convinced my mind to not bring me back to my grave. A social death was coming on the horizon with Marissa in tow to play matchmaker. The least my subconscious could do was let me not have a metaphysical one in my dreams. It worked. I spent the rest of the night in a dreamless haze. Point one for my mind, first point its gotten all day

Author's Note

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