Lost In Lucidity

Less Than Everything

My head rests on its familiar divot in my pillow while I gently dance a glowing petal between my fingers. I inspect the velvety smooth leaf as my eyes soak in its foreign, alluring light. Just beneath the flesh, I can see the golden moisture from which it gets its glow swirling and shifting around. Like a drop of the Sun in my hand. If I close my eyes and hold the glow close, it really does feel like the lost rays are hitting my face. What is this stuff? How is it that something so oddly beautiful only started growing when the world got so grim? Then again, given what Val and I know about Mason's group, maybe its beauty isn't as perfect as it seems.

I pull the petal close and hover it over my mouth before inhaling deeply through my nose. The nostalgic smell of clean laundry fills my breath, and I hold it while I bask in its memory for a moment. If I took it, could I really see them again? Better than I could in my dreams? Mom? Leigh? Before the thought gets too tempting, I pull it away and open my side table drawer before stuffing it in with the rest. It's not for me, anyway...

Quietly closing the stand, I lay back and listen, trying to discern whether Dad's gone to bed. I heard him come in and up the stairs, but I never heard his door shut or the bathroom water running. Maybe he was just extra tired tonight. Like a cat, I slink out of bed and softly approach my door. I muffle the handle as I turn it and crack it open, peering out into the hall. In the darkness, I can see across the way that Leigh's door is open. That's odd; I'm usually the only one who goes in there...

I fully open the barrier and take a few steps forward to peer inside. From the little bit of light that gleams in from the street, I see my father standing at Leigh's desk. His face is eclipsed by shadow, but I don't need to see his expression to sense his somberness as he gazes down at the object in his hand. One of Leigh's old sketchbooks. My throat tightens as I watch him turn page after page, and I finally decide that I should let him be alone. I step slowly back to return to my room, a but a slight pop in the foundation gives me away.

Dad looks up from the book, and he quickly rubs his arm to his face before speaking, "Oh, you scared me."

"Sorry..." I tell him.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was already awake."

"I was just, um...", he sets Leigh's sketchbook down then rubs his neck. In a flash, his vulnerability fades back into his strong demeanor. "I heard about the lockdown. The guards said that thing came back. You okay?"

I nod.

"Good." He moves forward and I step aside for him to exit. Reaching for the handle, he closes the door behind himself, looks me up and down, and when he sees me nervously rubbing my arm, he asks, "How are you doing... otherwise?"

I quickly stand up straight, "I'm alright."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Dad seems either more intuitive than usual, or just not to buy it, "You're doing alright alone over here while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, Dad, everything's good. I have friends and other stuff to stay busy with."

"Okay. I just want to make sure. I know that you've had troubles in the past and everything."

I wince internally, "Yeah. Thanks for asking."

He nods, then pats my shoulder before moving past me into his bedroom. I remain for a few moments before heading back to my own.

The day is incredibly slow from that point forward. I lay back down along with Dad to try and get at least some sleep. I do, but it's very restless and there are no dreams. I'm also still up long before him, and bored out of my mind, so I reach for my phone.