The balcony. /// Waking.
I found myself there. A lot. I was looking for her, of course. Always, I was looking for her. When she left after the scuffle, she looked bad. Disheartened, abandoned. But that was a week ago, so where was she? Licking her wounds? She never missed a day of being here--down by the street. Could she have packed her few belongings and high-tailed it? I hoped not.
I waited all day, night, too, for her. Day night day night. But I didn't see her. Weeks passed with me looking for her, desperately so.
Of course, I couldn't just stay couped up. No, no, I had things to do--I had to eat a little, right? And sleep's a necessity, no matter how long one can go without. Money, however, was of no issue: I only worked once a year, and the pay from that could last me a few. Plus, the rent was paid by my employer, to show his gratitude, or something like that. With that and the pantry's stock of ramen in mind, I decided to go to the grocer.
Now, there is a farm store I usually go to right around the corner from the complex. Easily I could have walked there and back, and quickly, too. Despite the proximity--or maybe because of it, I am not exactly sure which--I chose the grocery farthest from a home--a good twenty-or-so blocks away. What the hell, right? I had time.
I was nearly half-way to my destination when a gleam of familiar red hair caught my eye. It was brighter than usual, but I new the owner nonetheless. I turned, stunned, as I watched her fall to the sidewalk opposite of the one I was stopped at. Ignoring the cars--though, honestly, there weren't many--I rushed across the street. Kneeling beside her, I scooped her now near-limp body up in my arms. With no one to call (and no phone to call with, I mused, thinking I really needed to get one), and no local who cared, I carried her home.
When I reached the rusted, hanging gates of the complex, my eyes leveled with my apartment's balcony. They settled on my boss's lively, but solemnly prepared, face. How long have they been watching me? I thought briefly before dismissing it. At least they were, there's no way I could help her alone.
///
It's an odd sensation, you know? Your mind is being pulled out of some far-away place, some distant city on some distant planet, and shoved back into your head. It's even odder to wake up somewhere you don't remember even being. Sleepwalking is crazy, I think. I mean, you go to sleep in let's say your bed, and when you wake up you're trying to unlock the front door, but you can't because you've forgotten that the door chain was fastened neatly the night before. Sometimes you have a headache, sometimes you're hungry. Sometimes you wish you hadn't been so restless and sometimes you wonder what the hell kind of dream you were having. Odder, still, is when you know for a fact you weren't sleepwalking, because you know you hadn't fallen asleep. No, that kind of waking is not like sleepwalking at all. It's like someone took you and hid you away from the world. And that is how I woke up.
My eyelids were heavy--just how long have I been asleep?--and my stomach was rumbling as it usually does when I've been dry for a few days. Or weeks. Shakily, I sat up in the strange bed and look around. First thought: Apartment. Second: His. I lept up, but too fast, and had I not grabbed the object (which so happened to be a dresser) closest to me, I surely would have crashed to the carpeted floor.
It's inexplicable, the urgency that filled my body with adrenaline. I don't know why, but I felt I had to get out of the apartments. I didn't belong there, and I never had, no matter how many nights I slept under the outside stairs, imagining--. My thoughts were cut off by the opening of a very squeaky door. I winced and grabbed the dresser with both hands, turning away from the origin or the horrible sound.
Suddenly I felt someone's arms around my shoulders and I spun around, scared out of my mind. My face was inches from his, and I was unaware of the way my face paled. He registered my expression, then lifted me away from the dresser and put me back in the bed where he must've thought I belonged. My head was spinning, and so was the room. I was seeing double, triple, quadruple; maybe the bed was where I belonged. I fell asleep moments after my head hit the pillow. I haven't had a hit for a month--does he know that? was the last thought that screamed through my mind like a crashing train before I sunk into a quiet slumber.
I waited all day, night, too, for her. Day night day night. But I didn't see her. Weeks passed with me looking for her, desperately so.
Of course, I couldn't just stay couped up. No, no, I had things to do--I had to eat a little, right? And sleep's a necessity, no matter how long one can go without. Money, however, was of no issue: I only worked once a year, and the pay from that could last me a few. Plus, the rent was paid by my employer, to show his gratitude, or something like that. With that and the pantry's stock of ramen in mind, I decided to go to the grocer.
Now, there is a farm store I usually go to right around the corner from the complex. Easily I could have walked there and back, and quickly, too. Despite the proximity--or maybe because of it, I am not exactly sure which--I chose the grocery farthest from a home--a good twenty-or-so blocks away. What the hell, right? I had time.
I was nearly half-way to my destination when a gleam of familiar red hair caught my eye. It was brighter than usual, but I new the owner nonetheless. I turned, stunned, as I watched her fall to the sidewalk opposite of the one I was stopped at. Ignoring the cars--though, honestly, there weren't many--I rushed across the street. Kneeling beside her, I scooped her now near-limp body up in my arms. With no one to call (and no phone to call with, I mused, thinking I really needed to get one), and no local who cared, I carried her home.
When I reached the rusted, hanging gates of the complex, my eyes leveled with my apartment's balcony. They settled on my boss's lively, but solemnly prepared, face. How long have they been watching me? I thought briefly before dismissing it. At least they were, there's no way I could help her alone.
///
It's an odd sensation, you know? Your mind is being pulled out of some far-away place, some distant city on some distant planet, and shoved back into your head. It's even odder to wake up somewhere you don't remember even being. Sleepwalking is crazy, I think. I mean, you go to sleep in let's say your bed, and when you wake up you're trying to unlock the front door, but you can't because you've forgotten that the door chain was fastened neatly the night before. Sometimes you have a headache, sometimes you're hungry. Sometimes you wish you hadn't been so restless and sometimes you wonder what the hell kind of dream you were having. Odder, still, is when you know for a fact you weren't sleepwalking, because you know you hadn't fallen asleep. No, that kind of waking is not like sleepwalking at all. It's like someone took you and hid you away from the world. And that is how I woke up.
My eyelids were heavy--just how long have I been asleep?--and my stomach was rumbling as it usually does when I've been dry for a few days. Or weeks. Shakily, I sat up in the strange bed and look around. First thought: Apartment. Second: His. I lept up, but too fast, and had I not grabbed the object (which so happened to be a dresser) closest to me, I surely would have crashed to the carpeted floor.
It's inexplicable, the urgency that filled my body with adrenaline. I don't know why, but I felt I had to get out of the apartments. I didn't belong there, and I never had, no matter how many nights I slept under the outside stairs, imagining--. My thoughts were cut off by the opening of a very squeaky door. I winced and grabbed the dresser with both hands, turning away from the origin or the horrible sound.
Suddenly I felt someone's arms around my shoulders and I spun around, scared out of my mind. My face was inches from his, and I was unaware of the way my face paled. He registered my expression, then lifted me away from the dresser and put me back in the bed where he must've thought I belonged. My head was spinning, and so was the room. I was seeing double, triple, quadruple; maybe the bed was where I belonged. I fell asleep moments after my head hit the pillow. I haven't had a hit for a month--does he know that? was the last thought that screamed through my mind like a crashing train before I sunk into a quiet slumber.