Unnatural Instinct: Wish

27

No matter what, you can't stop thinking about him—and it sucks. Why can't you forget? There's a small hole in your chest that you just can't seem to fill, no matter how happy you feel with your family. You miss him. Worse—you worry about him.

Despite the company I keep, I'm lonely. You, above all, understand that, don't you?

You wipe away the tears from your cheeks. Though he's let you go, he hasn't truly released you. Your heart is not completely yours—and it hurts. Standing from your bed, you walk over to your little bookshelf. Though it's only late afternoon, it's gloomy in the garage-turned-bedroom of your brother's house.

You stare at your books. Mostly fantasy. Some romance. A few horror. During the move you didn't have the heart to throw it away, much less destroy it. Ever since your return, your mind has been upon it. How couldn't it be? How could someone like the Dark Prince not leave a lasting impression that you'll wear like a scar for the rest of your life?

You bite your lip. Ruminating isn't going to make things better. Seeing him again will only make things worse. Nevertheless, you push your books aside, reaching in behind them to a tall, high corner that your nieces and nephews can't reach.

It seems to weigh extra heavy in your hand as you pull it out. Your heart races as you gaze at the cover. You open the book and flick through the pages but you can't find the mysterious picture.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you go through it page after page, until the sun sets completely and you switch on the light. You've reached the end of the book. Nothing. It's nowhere to be found. What does it mean? You smooth your fingers down the spine as you try to remember his face, his beauty, the feel of his presence.

Already he's fading.

You want to see him again. You can feel the desperation rising in the pit of your stomach. Countless days have passed since your strange encounter and the ache is getting worse and worse. Like a craving. Like an addiction.

All you need do is wish it.

You remember the last time you saw him, marching across the room, hunched over in defeat as he exited through the door. You wish you could see his smile again. It hurts to think of it.

No matter how much you ache to see him again, you don't dare say the words. You might be a romantic but you're not a fool. And even as you think it, you begin to wonder if it all really was a figment of your imagination. You were in a coma for three whole months. What if it was all just a major trick of your brain? A small stroke perhaps. Maybe he really is completely made up. Realistically that would be most likely.

You belong here with me. Since the moment you read the first page and imagined me.

With a sigh, you get up and slot the book safely back into its place at the back of your shelf.

It's still early but you're strangely tired. After dinner, you say goodnight to Allan and the rest, Lilly giving you a kiss on the cheek.

'If I don't see you, good luck for tomorrow,' Allan tells you.

You grin. You've signed up to the local college and it's your first class—Legal Studies. As you close the door behind you, you can't help but feel excited at the prospect of a new beginning. Ever since you've come back you've been eager to take on something new. You're not useless and you're very much loved and you will carve a decent way through life.

You switch off the light and climb into bed. As you endure the tangle of sorrow and excitement in the darkness of your room, your eyes gravitate towards the bookshelf. You try to pull them away—you really should be focused on tomorrow—but your eyes won't obey.