Trapped In My Dreams

2. Tears

I didn't know where I was.

I had seen the light hit and felt mu body arch up and slump crookedly on the ground. That was when I blacked out.

I opened my eyes in this artificial sunlight.

It wasn't quite sun, actually. It was light, but like a harsh hospital light, that originated high up in the darkened cealing. It was a spotlight. A spotlight on me.

I slowly moved my arms and legs. Nothing broken. Nothing really hurt.

My back was a different story. It was sore. Horribly sore. I twisted onto my stomach and slowly regretted it as every tendon, every nerve bundle, every fiber burned. Tears wet my eyes.

I gritted my teeth. I better be able to stand, I told myself. Get up. Get up. Ignore the pain. Won't dying of hunger be worse? Won't the pain in your back and the hunger twisting your stomach be worse?

My legs wanted to tell me no. So did my stomach. With shaking legs, I barfed up everything in my stomach. At least the barf blocked out the smell of my singed clothes and hair. I slowly wiped at my face with my hands, scraping away the signs of my upset stomach. 

My knees buckled and my legs wobbled as I slowly and painfully stood. I wished there was something to hold onto. That would be so much better.

I took one small step. I almost heaved again. Don't get sick, Tammy, I told myself. Don't get sick again. Its painful, and who knows when you'll get food again?

My stomach listened, and I took small calculating step after small calculating step. I was going excruciatingly slow. I'd only walked about two feet in the past five minutes. If I kept this up, it would take me an hour to walk twenty feet. I would die of boredom. I didn't want to die though, I told myself. I want to find food or people or help.  

I was listless. My pain was dragging all the motivation out of me. I tried to sing to pass the time.

"On my own," I screecheed out, pretending I was Eponine from Les Mis. It wasn't worth the effort. My horse voice couldn't take the strain of singing the three notes. Hacking coughs racked my body. I gave up singing.

I sunk onto the ground. I was only ten feet away from where I started. I wanted to cry, but my weak body didn't let me. Instead, my pounding head drifted off into sleep.

I dreamed of stars, hundreds of them. I picked up my pencil and connected them in the sky. Thousands and thousands of lines. I scratched them all out until my wrist hurt like nuts. I wanted to cry. Again.

The starts were seething though, telling me to keep connecting. Telling me that if I didn't connect them, I couldn't see their picture. So I continued, graphite lines tracing over the sky. I worked as fast as I possibly could.

"Stop!" they yelled.

I paused midstroke. I backed up and stared at what I had drawn. I dropped my pencil in utter fear. I had drawn an utter monster.