chapter 8

"In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed—

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted."

-Edgar Allan Poe,

"A dream"

Carter yawned and opened his sticky eyes, frowning as he recalled yesterday's events. He stretched like a cat and remembered Jacob's sleeping face, the heat his body radiated. He looked at the other side of his own bed, cold and empty.

Though he denied it, somewhere deep down he wanted to sleep beside Jacob again. Hug him again, kiss him again.

Still thinking, he dug out his phone from under his pillow and stared at the time; 10:00 a.m., exactly one hour before Venessa arrives. If it was Max or someone, he could still get an extra half an hour, but Ven had always been a pretty on-time person.

Crawling out of bed, he stretched once more to try and wake up better.

He felt grateful that it was a Sunday and not their shift today; he already felt exhausted beyond words, considering he'd just woken up.

He dragged his sagging body to the bathroom, and as he brushed his teeth in a sleepy daze, he wondered about Alec; how he was doing after his little stunt with Venessa last night—if he even remembered it. Rinsing his mouth, he made a mental note to check up on Alec when he heard the door of his room creak.

Frowning, he walked back out to his room, his footsteps soft and subtle as always. Alec sat on his bed, his eyes open wide and a crazy air around him, like he was afraid and trying to run from something. He opened his mouth as he saw Carter approach him, "I must've been crazy last night. Venessa is soo going to kill me!"

Carter almost snorted; so, he did remember, "She's coming over in about," he checked his watch, "forty-five minutes," Carter said, clearly enjoying himself. Alec sobbed, "Listen. I'm going over to my friend's house. Don't bring last night up. Dodge if she brings me up. Please, I beg you."

Carter smiled, wanting to ask for something in return but neither knowing what to ask nor being cruel enough to ask, "Sure, whatever you say brother." Alec gave him a brief hug and ran back to his room to change his clothes.

It wasn't long before he heard the main door slam, indicating his brother's departure. Sighing, he muttered to himself, "Now that he's out of the house, I should focus on cleaning the house…and myself."

***

The sky is soft blue that fades into a pastel purple as she stares towards the horizon. Although it isn't very late, the sky covered with white, unevenly-spaced stars, scattered like casually sprinkled powdered sugar on a cake.

The sky reminds her of those little canvas paintings she had seen her mother, her real, blood mother, paint; the sky a perfect blend of colors with clouds that looked as real as the real ones, almost like if she touched them, she'd find them soft and fluffy and a little chilled.

She had tried her hand at painting, letting her childish innocence lead her through it, but she hadn't been any good.

Words were her thing; they intrigued her, the endless possibilities that came with them. The blur of words drawing a thin line between what your eyes see and what your mind showed you; a thin line between what was real and what wasn't.

Writing came to her as naturally as breathing did.

The golden crescent moon is low in the sky and her lost, green, eyes stare at it through the leafless tree, under which is a playground filled with sand holding a pair of single swings, a red merry-go-round and a blue slide.

The young girl is sitting on one of those swings, lost in thought and staring up into the endless open sky.

She looks at the swing beside hers, the other half, and wonders about the one who should've been sitting there beside her. Making her giggle, like he always did. Making her happy, like he always did. Bringing out the curious, adventurous side of her which her family had buried inside, like he always did. Like he always used to…like he should've been doing.

And yet, she couldn't recall how he looked. She had looked at his face every day but she hadn't seen it. Not really seen it. Was he "handsome" or "beautiful"? To her, beautiful were the flowers, the butterflies, the clouds and the stars. Was he beautiful like a butterfly was?

In fact, she had never seen a face at all, not even her own. She looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a blur connected to a neck that led to her body. She had always recognized him alone from his voice, from the way he moved, from the way his hands looked; if they were to change, she'd never recognize him. Ever.

Her emotionless eyes stared back through the branches as she started swinging. She let go of the orange ropes once she picked up speed, aware of the fact that she could fall in any direction; get hurt, maybe even lose her life. She swung higher and higher, as if she were trying to leave her tainted "home" behind.

Yes, she could fall. Yes, she could die. Any moment. But she was free. There was nothing holding her back or anything she was holding on to. Untethered. She could fall through the sky until she hit the ground and shattered her bones irreparably. But free nonetheless.

Will her future be like that if she let go of what held her back? Will she finally be free then? If she let go, she would be free. But if she let go, would she be able to call this sand, this sky, this place, her "home"?

Her "home," a place she could come back to but not a place she felt safe or felt like she belonged. Not without him. Will she ever belong anywhere? Will she ever find her real "home" again?

Venessa's eyes shot open as she tried to gasp for air but failed as her sleep paralysis kicked in. She panicked and gathered her willpower and tried to move, relaxing when she finally swallowed in air and felt her temporary paralysis ebb away.

She lay there, breathing hard and fast, trying to get it under control. She felt for the rubber band she always kept wrapped around her right wrist and found it, pulling it hard and letting it slap back against her pulse point harshly with a loud snap; it was a coping mechanism she had adopted years ago to get herself under control.

She snapped it a couple more times before feeling her heartbeat settle to its more usual, easy pace. She remembered her dream though it was already slipping away, like sand; you grab it and grab it but it keeps slipping out, only to be trapped in time.

She remembered the playground and the boundless purple sky and someone. Once again, she wished she could comprehend faces. Though she knew for the fact that this dream was one of her memories from before she ran away from her wretched family.

Sighing, she raised herself on her bed and checked the time; 10:30 a.m.

She smiled softly—at least she won't be late. Yawning, she slipped into her bathroom and stood in front of the sink, brushing her teeth but also staring at the blur of her "face" she saw in the mirror over the sink. People often told her she was "pretty" but she couldn't really understand it.

She knew she had green eyes and a rather small nose, cupid's bow but pouty lips and a diamond shaped face. She saw these features individually but together they meant nothing. Just the same as everyone else. As far as she remembered, she'd always been like this. Or maybe it only seemed so because she saw it everyday? Probably.

She had never met anyone else with this same condition as hers even though it was supposed to be rather common.

Venessa rinsed her mouth and stripped, entering the cold shower, letting the water strip her of her thoughts and calm her racing mind. She lathered herself in soap, basking in the feeling of foam all over her, before washing it off and wrapping herself in her towel, stepping out to dry herself.

She pulled on her gray sweats, white t-shirt and her black Vans as quickly as she could, not wanting to be late.

Grabbing her books, she took the house keys from the drawer and walked out the door, thinking about her past. Thinking about how her step mother used to treat her. She shook her head as if shaking off the thoughts themselves and went out to walk her way to her bestfriend's house.

Soon she was standing at his door and ringing the bell, her heart anxious as she thought about the way she had thrown Jacob out of the house in a fit of annoyance. It was for a very valid reason but still, what she did must've hurt Carter. She was wondering whether she should apologize when the door flew open and the smell of ramen hit her nose.

Carter smiled, or so it seemed to her. She imagined how it must look; bright and pure. Maybe like silver fairy lights. He took her books and pulled her in. "Make yourself home. Take out my books for me?"

Venessa nodded, a little overwhelmed, and pulled out his math textbook and notebook. She set up their respective study tables but as soon as she flipped it open, a thin envelope fluttered out and onto her table. It was sealed with a strip of tape and the Carter's name was scribbled on it in painfully neat script and she instantly knew who had sent it; you couldn't stay friends for years and not recognize each other's handwriting.

Carter hasn't opened it yet, she thought. She knew she shouldn't open it and yet. Her curse was curiosity and asking questions, her sin. And besides, she knew one thing for sure; Jacob didn't deserve Carter. And he wouldn't ever.

"Venessa!" She jumped when Carter called out her name. For a second, she thought he had seen her with the envelope but then she looked up and realized he was still in the kitchen. She sighed in relief; if he had seen her, there would've been no escape. She would have had to give it away.

"Yeah? You need something?" Venessa replied, trying to keep her voice normal and neutral.

He poked his black, messy head out and asked in a less loud voice, "Do you want an egg with your ramen?" Venessa smiled and shook her head and waited until Carter went back in before taking the envelope and stuffing it in her notebook. Getting up to help him bring the two bowls of ramen and the chopsticks, she smiled and asked him which chapter they should start with.

They ate and laughed, finishing half of their homework much quicker than they would have individually. Venessa looked up at the clock, gasping at the time. She looked at Carter and tapped him lightly on his thigh, beckoning him to look at the time.

It was almost lunch time much to both of their surprise.

Venessa turned to Carter, "You want to call Max? Maybe we can watch a movie. We have the whole vacation to study anyways." Carter's head turned towards her as if surprised. "What? You know I'm not serious all the time!" Venessa defended herself as if offended by Carter's speechlessness then smiling and shaking her head.

She stared at Carter's eyes as they crinkled, probably in a smile, and he said, "Yes, let's do that. You call?"

"Yeah okay. You clean up then?" she winked and picked up her phone, scrolling for Max's number. Venessa watched as Carter scuttled about, picking up the dishes and folding the tables. She couldn't stop thinking about the letter, she wanted to open it but she knew she shouldn't; she mentally promised herself that she won't open it.

"Hello? Venessa, do you need something?" Venessa started at Max's voice crackling through the phone; the phone itself hot, and pressed tightly against her ear.

Venessa smiled. "Come over to Carter's?"