Fireflies

44

She stirred softly, her face glowing while her eyes were still closed. Claire mumbled in her sleep and then, out of nowhere, she was struck with the cold rush of wind.

Her dreams were cut off, finished, and stopped. The joy was halted and Claire slowly raised her head, realizing she was now fully awake.

She sat there for a little while and observed the surroundings around her. The night had ended and the dawn of the coming day had begun.

She looked like she had seen a ghost for her eyes were blank, her forehead sweaty, and her lips were dry.

Claire's bemused face signaled that she had fallen asleep on the chapel and no one had bothered to wake her. Or maybe, no one ever minded doing so.

She must have seemed at peace, too at peace.

Or maybe, she was too wrapped in the depths of the abyss that she couldn't afford to hear anybody else.

But then, as she froze there like a displayed mannequin, she recognized that her cheeks were wet. Claire lifted her hands and touched the sides of her face, feeling the cold drop of the liquid from her eyes falling relentlessly.

Her eyes were smiling, then frowning. She seemed overjoyed and then bewildered.

Claire focused her gaze straight on the empty altar and then she craned her neck from side to side. It was dark and cold while the small glint of the rising sun could be seen through the window.

Her breath was short and agitated. She shivered in the damp and humid air and then she stood up from the wooden pew where she rested throughout the rest of the night.

Claire took a few steps away and then headed to the side of the windows, where she could gain a better view of the early morning outside.

As she watched the emergence of the sun, she realized the reason why her chest had been hurting. Why it suffocated her, it was too tight and painful.

Flashes of her recent dream washed through her like the passing of the wind and then, as she recalled each and every sweet moment, she sprinted her way out of the chapel.

She woke up with tears in her eyes and for certain, he would have been going through the same thing.

Claire rushed through the lengthy floors and hallways, quickened her pace in the elevators, and fastened her steps as she passed through every door.

She had to go see him. Claire deserved to know if he had woken up. She was certain that the heavens have finally heard her prayers.

She needed him and she wanted him to be a part of her life.

Mark occupied a space in her heart and surely, or more like she wished, that he also resonated with her.

As she took her steps with a sense of urgency, her mind was clouded with him.

Her only thought was of the same sentiments they shared under the gleam of the stars, witnessed by one single firefly.

Her only hope was him. She didn't know how she could afford to heal and get over everything entirely if he wasn't with her. He had to be there with her.

He had to know that they already connected in deeper ways. Mark needed to know how he saved her.

The room where he laid for all those months was nearing and her insides were churning in anxiousness.

In the abyss, she could pretend to be cool and pretty. She could work her way into acting like somebody else like she lived a pretty cozy and progressive life of glitters.