Spring

Chapter Eight

Sage Gibson

Darkness envelops me. I'm standing on a basketball court, a school court, but everything surrounding it is pitch black. I'm alone.

I can't breathe. My lungs hurt. There's a ball in my hands.

Muffled voices that sound wrong in my ears. Spinning around, I see a team. I don't know any of them, they're wearing jerseys like my old school's but they aren't my old team. They don't have any facial features, which is weird.

"Sage." It's muffled but I can hear it. Spinning around, Marc is standing behind me. I can see his face. He's wearing the same jersey as the rest of us. "Pass the ball."

I do, he catches it and dribbles over to the rest of them. I'm wearing the same jersey as them too.

Suddenly I can't move. My legs are glued to the ground. I watch as Marc and the weird faceless team play a game. The whole time I stay glued to the center of the court, just watching.

When it's over they laugh and clap each other on the backs. The ball rolls away and disappears. I stay stuck in the middle. Like I'm on the outside looking in.

Suddenly, the strange team members start to get faces. Their hair changes and slowly they morph into people I know. My old teammates.

Marc's back is turned to me while the rest of them just stand and state. Slowly, he turns around. We lock eyes. It's not Marc anymore.

Lee, he's who I was closest to outside of basketball, stares at me in Marc's place. We stand there for what feels like way too long. Lee just shakes his head at me and then turns around. The rest of the team do too. They leave me, walking off into the abyss and disappearing.

I can move again. The ball rolls over to me, duddenly appearing again. I pick it up. I'm alone.

My eyes snap open and I sit up rapidly on the couch. I look around the dark living room, my head feeling fuzzy.

What the hell?

I sigh and shuffle off the couch. I couldn't sleep so I came in here to watch TV. I don't know when I feel asleep but I know Mom's been home. I can tell because of the blanket that was draped over me and the fact that the TV got turned off.

I blink my eyes several times until the feeling of normalcy returns. Where's my phone? My hands search around until they find it tucked into the couch cushions. I turn it on and hiss at the sudden light.

It's four on Friday morning. I've only been asleep a little under an hour. I came in here at three and Mom gets home at threee thirty so I fell asleep sometime between them.

Great.

I walk back into my room and shut my door. I plug my phone in and then let myself plop down on my bed. I let my mind race over what I dreamed about several times, trying to lock in the details.

I'm scared. I'm terrified.

I didn't think not being real friends with anyone bothered me before, but it did. It really did. I always felt stuck. None of them knew me and it all felt fake.

I didn't have any friends, but they all did. They were real friends with each other. Everyone had at least a small group. I had no one, so I thrived on pretending with them.

Now, I don't want to have to do that again. That's the problem, why I'm so on the fence about this. I can't do that again. Never again. It hurt more than I let on, even to myself.

Eventually I drift off again with my head pressed against my pillow. It isn't really sleep, not deep or relaxing. Instead, I can feel things around me the whole time. It's the restless type of sleep where I swear I'm awake because my brain is still working but my limbs won't move.