unspoken

Leroy's boots scuffed against the bus's worn floor as he searched for a seat, his gaze drifting out the window. Grey clouds stretched across the sky like a damp shroud, threatening to unleash a deluge. The landscape blurred together – a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

His duffle bag, slumped against his leg, seemed to hold a thousand stories. Each crease and scuff whispered tales of miles traveled, of journeys begun and ended. Leroy felt a familiar detachment, as if observing his life from afar.

As the bus lurched forward, the scenery transformed. Cars whizzed by, their headlights casting an eerie glow on wet pavement. The bus rumbled onto a bridge, the sound of rushing water rising like a mournful sigh.

Leroy's gaze drifted out the window, his eyes tracing the blurred landscape without truly seeing it. His thoughts hovered above his life, as if observing a stranger's journey. He felt no connection to the miles flying by, no sense of purpose driving him forward. The bus's hum and the rain's gentle patter created a soothing melody, lulling him into a state of emotional numbness.

A shiver danced down Leroy's spine. Something about this landscape stirred a memory, a fleeting glimpse of a life left behind. He turned to the mirror hanging from the rearview mirror, and that's when he saw it – a reflection that wasn't his own.

Grey lips, black eyes, and a gaunt face stared back. The stranger's eyes locked onto Leroy's, and for an instant, time stood still. Then, like a whispered secret, the vision vanished. Leroy's eyelids drooped, and he succumbed to the bus's rhythmic hum, his dreams a jumble of fragmented memories and half-forgotten fears.

Leroy's gaze slowly lifted, like a curtain rising from a darkened stage. His mother's presence filled the room, a striking silhouette against the bleak backdrop. Her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her black sundress seemed to absorb the faint light. The crimson lipstick on her lips glowed like a beacon, drawing Leroy's attention to her mouth as she sang.

"How long are you gonna whisper here?" Her voice was a gentle breeze on a summer's day, yet it carried an undercurrent of longing. "How long are you gonna stay right here?" The words hung in the air like the faint scent of rain, leaving Leroy wondering if she was searching for answers or questioning his own presence.

As he listened, the shadows in the room seemed to grow longer, like skeletal fingers reaching out to snuff out the lone light bulb. The chair beside him stood like a sentinel, a constant observer to the scene unfolding before it. Leroy's thoughts swirled, a maelstrom of emotions he couldn't quite grasp. Was his mother's song a lament or a warning? A plea for connection or a hint at a deeper truth?

As Leroy turned to the right, he met the gaze of the other boy, whose head was inverted, like a reflection in a dark mirror. The boy's eyes locked onto Leroy's, and he whispered, "You miss her, don't you?" The words dripped with an unsettling intensity, as if he'd uncovered a hidden truth.

Leroy felt a shiver run down his spine as the boy drew closer, his voice taking on a hypnotic quality. "You miss her, don't you?" The repetition was a slow-burning flame, igniting a mix of emotions within Leroy.

The mother's voice, like a gentle breeze, caressed the air once more. Her song wove a haunting melody, the lyrics echoing the boy's question. "How long are you gonna be here? How long will you stay with me?" The words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragile connections between them.

Leroy's vision blurred, and the bus's diesel fumes swirled around him. His mother's soft humming echoed in his mind, a comforting memory. But as he came to, he realized he wasn't home. The military bus's worn seats and faded camouflage fabric surrounded him, a harsh reality check.

Anita, the girl beside him, watched with an unnerving intensity. Her black hair fell straight, like a curtain of night, and her eyes seemed to bore into Leroy's soul. Tattoos and bite marks marred her pale skin, a map of secrets and scars.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice low and husky, like a whispered warning.

Leroy rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the haze. "I...I am," he stammered, his heart racing. "What's your name?"

Anita's gaze lingered, as if sizing him up. "Anita," she replied, her voice firm, like a challenge.

Leroy's mind reeled, trying to process the situation. The bus rumbled on, carrying them closer to the military base, and the unknown. He felt a shiver run down his spine as Anita's eyes seemed to bore deeper, as if searching for something hidden.

Leroy's curiosity got the better of him. "Why do you have bite marks all over your body?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the scars.

Anita's gaze locked onto his, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she seemed to retreat into herself, as if the question had awakened a painful memory. "What makes you so intrigued by them?" she countered, her voice low and even.

Leroy hesitated, unsure how to respond. "They look...cool, I guess. Like a testament to your struggles and pain." He spoke with genuine admiration, but Anita's stare intensified, as if probing his sincerity.

"Do you accept the marks?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of challenge. "Do you like them, actually?" Her tone was measured, but a flicker of emotion danced in her eyes - a mix of vulnerability and defiance.

The air seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken meaning. Leroy felt a shiver run down his spine as he realized the weight of her questions.

As the bus swayed to the right, the storm outside intensified. Lightning illuminated the darkening sky, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the passengers. Thunder boomed through the air, vibrating the seat beneath them. The rain lashed against the windows, creating a mesmerizing melody. Anita lost her balance as the bus shifted, and she fell onto Leroy's shoulders, her hair brushing against his cheek.

Leroy reacted swiftly, catching her and pulling her back to safety. "No problem," he said with a smile, his warm breath on her ear.

Anita's gaze met his, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. She felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. Then Leroy continued, "I meant what I said earlier. I do like them – the bite marks. They make you unique, unlike anyone else."

Anita's thoughts swirled, unsure how to respond. She looked away, her silence speaking volumes.

Leroy then looks out the window and asks her do you wanna hear a poem, she said sure why not and then What is a dream? Is it mine or yours?

Is it black or gray? Is it consciousness that endures?

Do you have an answer? What is a question, anyway?

Is it something you seek, or something you're trying to slay?

What made you ask? Do you have your answer now?

What is the dark? Is it the abyss that pulls you down?

Is it the Stygian suicide that condemns you to drown?

Is it something you invite, or something that's nothing at all?

Is it equal to the void that stares back at you, standing tall?

What do you yearn for? Will you ever be content?

Will you ever stop looking, or will you forever invent?

Will you continue to gaze into the void, and stare back at its face?

Will you ever come to an answer, or will the question forever embrace?"

As the bus approached the military base, Anita gazed out the window, still lost in thought from the poem. The vast expanse of the base unfolded before them - three massive facilities, each with its own flag and logo flapping in the wind. The smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of distant drills filled the air.

"Doesn't it look massive?" Anita asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Leroy, still staring out the window, didn't respond. His mind wandered to the poem's haunting questions. "Why am I still here?" he thought, his doubts resurfacing like a lingering shadow. The recruits around them buzzed with excitement, but Leroy felt disconnected, like a ghost drifting through the chaos.

Anita turned to Leroy, her eyes searching for answers. "What does the poem mean?"

Leroy's gaze drifted to the front bus mirror, where he met the eyes of his reflection. For a moment, he smiled at himself, as if sharing a secret. Then, he looked at Anita and shrugged. "Idk."

Anita's thoughts swirled, trying to decipher the poem's meaning. She wondered if Leroy's enigmatic response was a reflection of his own uncertainty or a hint at something deeper. The image of his smiling reflection lingered in her mind, like a whispered secret.

As the bus rumbled on, Anita's gaze lingered on Leroy's profile, his eyes still fixed on some distant point. The poem's words echoed in her mind, a haunting refrain: "What is a dream? Is it mine or yours?"

Leroy's reflection in the mirror seemed to smile again, a whisper of a secret only he knew. And in that moment, Anita felt the fragile threads of reality begin to unravel.

"What is the dark?" she whispered, the words lost in the din of the bus.

Leroy's eyes flickered, his gaze meeting hers for an instant. In that fleeting moment, Anita saw something there, something that made her heart stumble.

But it was gone, lost in the shadows of his eyes.

The bus rumbled on, leaving Anita with only the echoes of the poem, and the haunting question: What lies beyond the edge of our dreams?