“For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let them swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.” JK Rowling, from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
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“What was in that tea,” she mumbled, soothing her slightly warm wet cheeks with the coolness of her soft, right hand.
She sat up, looking through sleep-filled eyes, barely focused on the dimly lit, north facing walls. And then she remembered his face once again; she had seen the man she loved, the man who kept her awake at night when all she wanted to do was find him again. The nameless one who she knew was her soulmate, her twin flame, the one she was supposed to be with, for all time. And she wrote, not because she wanted to, but because she had to.
The Sound of Rain
Restless nights
Spent without you
When sleep finally comes
The dream begins.
On the sandy landscape
Of a lonely beach
The distance between us
Insurmountable.
It always is.
You walk alone
Head bowed
Stopping to search
The horizon
Waiting
Listening
I move closer to you
You turn towards me
A smile
A sparkle
Recognition.
We embrace
Holding on forever
I am awakened
By the sound of rain
My pillow is
Wet with my tears.
I wonder why
I miss you.
I don’t even know
your name.
“Damn, what is wrong with me,” she cried aloud to no one in particular.
This time, there had been the embrace. He recognized her too. He was somewhere, and he had to be real! He just had to be.
It’s the tea. It helped me to find him again. I will find him again. I’ll make more tea. I’ll drink the tea, and sleep and dream. Damn I have to ask him where I can find him. I need to know his name and where he is!
What was she thinking? What is this madness? No, no, no! He has to be real, and if he’s not, then I’ll just sleep more so I can be with him. Yes, yes – that’s it.
It didn’t take her long to boil another cup of tea, and as it steeped for the 15 minutes, she tripled the dose, hoping that this time, she would stay asleep longer, giving herself more time to find him and to talk. She had to know if this was more than a figment of her imagination.
As she sipped her tea, sweetened with the golden elixir of local raw honey, she once again felt herself readying to go back to sleep, her eyes relaxing and losing focus of the pale gray of her bedroom. The gauzy white curtains moved softly against the summer morning breeze, hypnotically swaying against the morning light.
Before she drifted off, she wrote him a love letter of sorts, hoping that where ever he was, he would know what was written in her heart before she could find him again. The world was a cold place without the love he offered her in those dreamscapes. If he was a figment of her imagination, she wished never to wake up again, and would remain in the Dreamtime, waiting forever if she had to.
“Beloved, I am coming. By all that is sacred, I will find you. I love ….”
Four hours came and went before the barista was decidedly fired in favor of hiring the little blonde girl with dazzling white teeth. Another twenty hours had passed before her elderly neighbor noticed she hadn’t heard a sound from the girl in the upstairs apartment. It was another six hours before her little brother decided to go over there since she wasn’t answering her cell phone, and he needed to borrow $20.
Not long after, he was climbing through her bedroom window, where he discovered his older sister, a soft smile on her face, a pen dangling from her cold, stiff hand. The poem was in her notebook, barely legible, as was the note and the blackened remains of her tea.
“I guess you found what you found what you were looking for, sis” And he kissed her third eye with love and tenderness, before calling 911 through choked tears.
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500 Word Challenge. This story is about an accidental death; suicide is not implied.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 24/7: 1 (800) 273-8255
Blue Sky Thunder 