jumped down and tried to reach out for her.
She asked me if I was crazy. She said it wasn’t funny. She stormed away from me.
I didn’t understand. I did this whole thing for her and she was crying. I tried to kiss her, but she pushed me away. She said what I did scared her. She said she cared about me.
The ever-burning torch of energy running through me felt like it was being snuffed. Her tears were extinguishing the flames.
For the first time in days, I started to feel a little tired. As pink sun rose, her sniffles peppered the skies with sharp black angles. I tasted licorice. Millions of microscopic needle points poked my fingertips as if they had fallen asleep.
I thought we were having fun, but she said she was done and she wanted to go back inside and sleep.
I didn’t understand.
ASH
WE WERE SUPPOSED to watch the sun rise together, but instead she cried and her tears darkened the pink and orange glow of the sun coming up on the horizon. I watched her sleep next to me. I felt restless, wanting to jump out of my skin. I had lost track of the last time I had slept for more than a couple of hours, if at all. At first, that restlessness felt refreshing, like a superpower had been unveiled, but now it felt like an inescapable itch. I wanted to sleep and forget how I upset Bird.
I just wanted to make her laugh. She said she was fine, that she was just tired and wanted to rest and to never do that again. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how she begged me to come off that ledge, as I kept trying to make her smile, and it only made her more panicked.
The dead silence of the room is interrupted by drops of water. I look over at the source of the sound. The window. Water is leaking in through the seams. There is a single crack in the pane and I watch in confusion as the crack spreads in different directions and then the window bursts.
Shards of glass cut into my skin as a violent rush of water floods the apartment. We have to get out of here. I shake Bird, but she won’t open her eyes. She is bleeding. She has no lavender aura. She is dull. I scream her name, but she lies limp. I have to carry her out, but I can’t move my legs. The apartment is filling fast, and I scream for help. I watch as water overtakes Bird first, and I scream for her. Then the water consumes me and I scream again. This time there is no sound, but agitated water erupts from my mouth: foamy, white bubbles.
I feel arms grip me and pull me away from her. I try to take her with me. And then I lose consciousness.
I open my eyes again. And this time I can’t move at all. I feel like I am being gripped in a powerful hug, but as I move, I hear the gentle clinking of buckles. I look down, and I’m hugging myself, forced to do so by a white jacket. I look around to get my bearings, but I am in a room with just a tiny window at the door. I use the padded wall to slide up to my feet, and I call out through the tiny window. Then I slam against the door, over and over, until my shoulder is numb. The room is small, and the water will be coming after me. I need to get out of this small room. If the water won’t drown me, this jacket and these walls will suffocate me. I hate fucking walls. An invisible hand clenches my throat. There’s not enough air in this room. The walls are keeping it out. And then the ceiling and walls begin to come closer from every direction. The hand grips tighter.
I jumped up, panting as I looked for Bird. I had to make sure she was alive, that the water hadn’t consumed her, but she wasn’t in the bed. My head hurt like hell, a hangover I didn’t earn. I was so tired, only waking up because of the nightmare.
“Bird?” I called out, my voice full of rasp and confusion. There was no answer. I stood up drunkenly and walked over to the kitchen. There was a note.
Ash,
I had to go to work and I didn’t want to wake you up.