The Artist

3

"Oh no," I mutter as we (Alexander and I) let out smiles fade into deep set frowns. The laughter dies easily and silence grows thick. We stare at each other, mirroring each other's expression. "Well, would you like to see where this grass leads to?" I try to be enthusiastic but now that the game is lost, I can feel the life being sucked out of me once more. 

"Sure. Want an apple?" He asks, poking the bag that is secured on me. 

I pick a light green one as he picks a bright, yellow banana. We both take sips from a single water bottle. The cold water runs down my throat just as a cold breeze forces my hair to go wild. I'm first to start walking away from the forests edge, Alexander trailing closely behind me. 

Pushing through the yellow-ish green grass that's well passed my shoulders in length lets a pang of familiarity soothe my mixed fear. But how can this at all be familiar? I ask myself. It's impossible, I've never been here before. 

Abruptly, a piano somewhere far away starts to grow louder as it plays. I pick up my pace quite a bit and actually start to run through the grass. Alexander follows closely behind me but not quite fast enough. But it's as if I can't stop. My legs carry out a sprint without my thoughts consent. The piano grows louder and I can start to hear someones' voice harmonizing with it. An alto/bass voice hums, a weird beat of my chest forces me to stop so I can catch my breath. 

Alexander stumbles up, it's obvious that he fell at some point because his shins are scraped. "Why are you running?" He gasps, out of breath. 

After heaving in the fresh air, I reply, "Don't you hear that?" 

His eyes widen as he glances at something behind me. But as soon as I turn around, everything blacks out. 

I jolt upright from the floor and blink my eyes rapidly. Confusion pulls over my body like acid. I glance down. The faded blue sweatshirt I wore to bed last night hangs loosely from my body. I glance around. My room is still painted and clean but I don't understand. Why am I here? Did I faint? How did Alexander get us both home? Did he carry me here? I look at the clock on my cell phone; it's only 6:37pm... We were gone for hours though! I glance around. 

A knock at my door forces me to mumble, "Come in." 

Alexander comes in with the clothes he wore before changing into the dark attire. His hair is messed up and his eyes hold no life. "Hey, dad is trying to make some kind of pizza. He wants you to come down so you guys can discuss a new book cover." This is all he says before leaving the room. 

Why is he acting like we didn't play that game? Then a thought strikes me. Was it...no...I frown down at my hands. Was it a dream? It couldn't be! Everything was so vivid! I remember going into the forest, I remember feeling the bark against my hands when we climbed over the web of trees. I remember the piano playing loudly...the piano! The dream changed. The dream that I've had every night since knowing about the move to France has changed! But it ended the same. The piano, the dangerous feel, the sadness creeping. But a new addition was made. A voice. A males.' That much is obvious, but who's is it? I've never heard it before... 

My fathers' voice booms and interrupts my thoughts. "Jack! Come on! I have a great idea for the book cover and I found your sketch pads and charcoal in the truck! Hurry up!" 

I get up from the floor and scurry downstairs.