The Blue Romance #1 Blueberry Smoke

The Cyan Lookalike

The peak of dawn came over me as seconds turned into minutes that I stayed buried in that bed. With the covers pressing down against my head, the cool breeze of the summer sun came rushing in through the windows. As I got out of the bed, as quickly as I could, with a frown on my face I was startled. Scared when I turned to face my mirror, that stood still against my brown coffee table. The photos I had of all my family members sat motionless on the top, as my eyes peeled back inside the back of my head. My reflection, the moisture covering the white steel, glass, was a shock. Cutting through me like a well-sharpened blade, my eyes softened as I touched the top, then the bottom of my lips. What I was seeing wasn't a dream. Not one I could just make up, not like last night. The carnival, Isis, the dream in which everything around me turned to ice, and created snowflakes all around my head. It wasn't a dream. That much I knew. The word dream couldn't be used to describe anything I'd seen. It was too real, too special. The way the frozen gust of wind chilled my bones, the beautiful sight of the mysterious boy standing there in front of me.

Before he'd been knelt down in front of me, then was standing. His eyes pressed onto me; I felt my heart almost exploded through my chest. If that had happened, I'd have ended up dead at the end of everything. But here I was, alive. Standing here, the same old me. The same long brown hair and green eyes. The same behavior, and the same taste for romance and fantasy. Nothing about me was so different.

That was until I turned to look at the mirror again. Going to bed last night, I hadn't noticed a single thing. No one.

But now, my eyes were still soft, and my gaze was slow and so very low, I'd hardly been able to see a single bit of me the first time I tried to look at myself. I cuffed my hands around me under elbows, as I took a rather large bite down onto my bottom lip. It tasted frosty and cold, as the skin stuck together, but only for a second, as it let go. My fingers scratched the end of my reflection, as with cheer, surprise, and shock, I ended up slowly stroking my reflection's face. My skin tone was different from the previous night. Given that I didn't exactly do anything when I arrived home late last night from the carnival, so what I was seeing, staring back at me, with those same cyan eyes, I'd never have known if I had been like this last night, or woke up like this. Either way, I was so blue and cold; it was unbelievable.

Although I could see the frost, and the breath I took in escape through my mouth, after reaching my lungs, I didn't feel one bit cold. My bare shoulders matched the same color as my face, and my lips were the same matching winter lipstick I'd seen Isis have on last night, when I had my fist encounter with him.

I blushed as I thought of his name in my head, which automatically made me remember him. Every single detail I could remember of that night, washed over me like water, as seconds turned into more seconds, as the burned image of his light blue lips and diamond eyes chased me into the white fluffy of the stormy, dark clouds. The rainbow Christmas lights, used to bring light to the carnival, had vanished all the same, and were now replaced by the light blue shine, of the ice and frost, as it joined itself together with the sliver medal of the many carnival rides.

Then, just as it happened exactly the same as I remembered, I was knocked down by something. Something I know believed to have been Isis, knocking into me. For seconds later, I was back to my feet, with him knelt onto his knees, right behind me. His expression was surprised and shocked just as mine, but changed to a loving, sweet, protected smile, as his eyes touched mine, as our souls connected towards one another. Attracting like two who longed for one another. Meant to be? Or was I just hoping sparks would fly for me? Had I just been obsessed with so much false romance; I could barely remember truth vs fiction? Were my books finally getting to me, and I was just inches from being admitted to a home for insane people, who've claimed they've seen things, just like I had?

Was I doomed to be admitted for the rest of my life, if I told anyone about my experience? Was I to keep this wonderful experience a secret for as long as I lived? Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do. There isn't anything else for me to do, I won't be able to talk to someone safely about this, without them wondering if I was seriously messed up. I didn't need people freaking out when I walked by them, especially when this morning was the first day of my new high school.

The first day of suffering.

The first day for torture, and bullying, Lost mental health, and an emptiness of self-confidence, which I didn't seem to have much of anyway these days, so that one couldn't worry me even if it tried.......

I got my clothing all ready and picked out for me to wear, as I started the running water, for the shower. I was running late but knew If I didn't make sure I was perfect, and smelled as good as I could, my entire day was going to be doomed, doomed to be horrible, and not good. So, as much as I hated hearing my mother's voice calling my name, I took as much time as I could, as I stepped out as moments passed me by. Once I was completely dry, I finished drying and putting up my hair, which was just going to be a simple loose braid, and got my shirt up and over. Over top of the white shirt, I chose a simple pitch-black sleeved crop top, and for the bottoms, I chose light blue jeans, with two sliver key-chains attached to both the back pockets. To hide the mess that was my sudden change of almost pale looking skin, I just used a brush with a little of foundation and applied it to the big spots that needed the most coverage. As for my cyan eyes, I left them. No one knew me there, so they wouldn't be shocked to see me with a suddenly new eye color.

As for the matching cyan color staining my lips, I carefully applied a small bit of what looked to be ocean blue lip gloss, and went over it, rubbing the two colors together. Once I was finished, I looked into the mirror for the last time, before leaving the privacy that was my bedroom, and off to school I went. To my surprise though, as I left, small cries from a sobbing woman played over and over in my mind. Separating my thoughts from reality, as the identification of the person, was seemingly lost to me.

She didn't know me?

Or did I know her?