Soul Kiss

Investigate

Really tired so......TADA! 

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Chapter 6 – Investigate

I woke up with a jolt the next morning. I looked around my mostly dark room. The sun was only just rising. I never get up this early.

OH…..the dream….

I decided to just lie down again and turn over. I closed my eyes. Flashes of the dry earth flashed before it. My eyes snapped open. I tried to close my eyes once again. I heard wailing and the cries of little boys.  I wouldn’t be able to sleep like this. I threw the covers off of me for the first time in months at an hour earlier than eight o’clock.

I ambled to my bathroom in my princess suite and jumped into the shower. The water ran freshly hot over my body. My skin grew red as a lobster as I simply stood there thinking.

That dream had been so real. The emotions were so strong, I felt terrified myself. I felt so useless, I couldn’t think of any way to help those boys. Their crying wails merged into one voice. It sounded like a generation crying for their families. To think a thing like that could happen to Mansur?

He was here though, it couldn’t possibly be true…he seemed fine. Reserved maybe, but fine enough.

I realized the water had started to run cool. I shut off the water, lathered up quickly, army style, and then turned the water back on to rinse off. When I was complete, I jumped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel.

Oh to be in the middle of the dry and hot, and not have these luxuries. I can’t imagine. I pushed the dream away from my mind as I brushed my teeth. I stared into the mirror at the tangled mass that was my curly hair.  I doused it in conditioning spray; finger combed it, and threw it on top of my head.

I walked into my room and still it was barely light outside of my windows. I pulled on some jeans and a tee, and my favorite wine colored zip-up hoodie. Since it was so early, I went down to the kitchen and got a proper breakfast for once. I had a bowl of basic four with some soy milk. After I ate, I snuck out of the quiet house, grabbing my bag, and headed toward the local park for a pre-school walk.

The smell of dew still hung in the hair at 7 in the morning, and there was still the overnight chill. I skipped down the streets humming to myself. Once I arrived to the park, I looked for some of my favorite forest trails and wondered around. When I was younger, I used to enjoy climbing the trees in this area. I looked around for some of my favorites. A couple were named Pete and Bob. Pete was tall with a good view, and Bob was low with thick branches like benches running through it.  I had a strange habit of naming inanimate objects when I was little.

In fact, after one of my birthday parties, I named one of the little latex balloons Peter and drew a face on it. It was my best friend in the whole world! And I loved him so much. I took him everywhere with me as he shrunk from loosing helium overtime. He was always by my side, until my brother popped him. So much for the everlasting life of my imaginary friends.

All that was beside the point now, I climbed up into Bob when I found him, and sat down with my back against the trunk looking through the green damp leaves as they glistened in the new day’s sun. It was slowly getting warm, and the sting of the chill receded.

I was thinking about my dream again when I heard the sound of singing a little ways farther down the trails to my right. Who would be out that deep in the forest at this time of day? I sat listening to the soft murmuring sound for a while, and then I decided to go investigate.

I followed the sound the sound deeper into the forest. It became louder, and as I neared is sounded very familiar. It was somewhat like the wailing in the dream, and like….something familiar about it. It was haunting me. I slowed and peaked around the tree branches into a clearing that contained small boulders. In the center I saw someone’s back. From this side, it looked like a he. His head was tilted upward and his hair tumbled a few inches down his back. The curls were dark and gentle. He wore a gray tee-shirt and jeans, but they set off his square shoulders very well. I listened to him, I couldn’t understand, but it sounded sad and poetic. It sounded ancient, and so did he. His voice was like warm caramel but with the rustic charm of ancient clay pots.