As the rain patters against the blurry pane, and the sounds of thunder linger throughout the room, and as I lay across my mattress, arms and legs stretched out from corner to corner, I find myself slowly falling asleep. My mind slowly begins to separate itself from reality and drifts into the unknown parts of my imagination. To a world that is which not post-apocalyptic, but a world so sweet and chipper, that I can almost taste it with the tip of my tongue.
The radiating sun danced across the baby blue sky and shined gold down upon the waves. The crisp air felt soothing against my rosy-red cheeks. The ocean spray was cold and felt like needles against my skin, but the ravishing scenery of this alternate universe was more than worth a few chills tingling up and down my spine. The huge boat rocked back and forth rapidly. The what seemed like silver waves crashed against the side of the boat. Due to the weight of my heavy coat, it wasn't exactly easy to stay standing when the ocean spit at me, so as the boat rocked back and forth - I did too. Bald Eagles circled high above our heads and then settled above the canopy. I hovered my right hand above my brow and I glanced upward at sky. The Eagles swooped down over the water, circled around the waves, and then cut back into the sky, with their majestic wings slicing through the crisp breeze.
The boat docked at a small wooden surface aligned between the salt water and the sandy shore. It rocked back and forth, and then came to a complete halt. I sprang onto the golden sand and brushed my fingers through the soft sediment. I grasped a handful of it and watched it slip right through the creases of my fingertips. The ocean spray smelt of fresh rain and the aroma of the shore smelt of strawberries and sugar. I propped myself upon my knee and pushed myself up off of the grinds of sand. I gazed upon the breath-taking ocean and the cloudless sky. Beautiful, was the first and only word that came to mind. Part of me knew this was all a dream but the remaining part was certain that it was more real than the world itself. The cool breeze cut through my chestnut curls and sweeped through the air. I looked down at my bare feet, watching my toes sink further into the sand, and I couldn't resist a smile. I wish it could always be like this. I wish that I could stay here, but sadly I can't. Sadly, this was the last of this dream world that I would ever see - or at least remember seeing...
I awake with a startle, springing my body upward off of the mattress, to the sound of a thunder clash - a rather louder clash than the ones before. I slip off of the bed and I slip on my flats. I open the door to the stairwell and I pace my way down. I see my sister, Avril, and my mother and father huddled together on a couch. They have a hand-sewn quilt wrapped around them as the thunder clatters again.
"Mother? Father? Avril? What's the matter?" I ask, folding my arms around my body and rubbing my palms up and down my shoulders as the sudden chill slices against my skin.
"Briar," my mother extends her arm out from under the quilt, "come here, sit down," I grasp hold of her hand and she tugs me underneath the blanket with her. I sit between the warmth of her and my father, who has a smug grip around my sister.
"Why is it so cold in here?" I ask, my mother wrapping the quilt tighter around me.
"The storm," Avril says, "it damaged the cables and cut all our power off."
"We can't use the heater. It won't turn on." Father says.
"So, are blankets the only thing that we have to keep warm?" I ask, as a shiver runs up my spine.
"Not necessarily, we still have the fire." Mother says.
"Nope. Cut that off too. And it's not real fire." Avril shakes her head.
"The lights won't turn on, will they?" I ask, glancing around, hoping for my eyes to adjust in the cold, bitter, darkness.
"Unfortunately," father says. I nuzzle my face into my father's shoulder and he plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
"We'll be alright," he whispers, "we just have to wait for the storm to pass."
"How long do you think that will take?" I ask.
"Hm," he starts, "hard to say. Storms like these don't happen every day in 16. Heck, Area 16 hardly gets rain."
"And on those rare days that we do, it's just about enough to fill a teacup or two." Mother says.
"Just sit tight. It will pass soon." Father says, rubbing the palm of his hand up and down my arms.
Another minute passes, then an hour, then another hour, and by the time the storm has long since passed Area 16, it's near to lights out - not that there are any lights to turn off.
The clouds clear up, the rain no longer pours down the sides of the house, and the sun is barely passing down through the horizon. Much like me, the dim yellow glow is closing its eye. My hair has been through the ringer today, and every day. Wavy curls in the morning, high ponytail in the afternoon, and a French braid in the evening. I twist the white thread out of my braid and I brush my fingers through the woven strands of hair. Normally, since my schedule includes curls in the morning, it's more likely that I leave it in the braid while I sleep. But tonight, with all that has happened in such a short day, the grey, the dream, the storm, the grey, the darkness, the cold, the grey, the grey, and so on - I felt as though tonight would be a night where I do not care. I toss the thread to the side of the sink and I brush every inch of thickness out of my hair. I set the brush against the cracked mirror and I splash my mouth with water. I pick out everything stuck between my teeth out with a bent and folded paper clip. I drop the clip into the trashcan and I throw myself onto my bed. I need sleep. I need to sleep. I need to see the dream world again. The world where everything is safe a beautiful and fine. A world without flaws and without ugly, a world where everybody is chipper, a world where I, Briar Paige, could and would finally be happy....
