Perspective (MJ)

Her Scenery Of Dreams

Her Scenery Of Dreams

A presence entering my room instantly takes me out of a deep, troubled sleep about the separation of Michael and I, bringing me back quickly into the facing of reality. Streaks of light enter the room as my curtains have been kept shut. I raise from my bed, taking my hair backwards to brush strands that keep falling into sight. My pulse races at who is stood at the door.

It's Jamila.

"Morning," she says softly, her hands wrapping around her arms. It's blatant that she has been up for a while seeing she is already dressed and having an appearance of being ready and healthy in the morning.

"Morning to you too," I sigh in defeat, taking my legs away from under the covers. My feet stretch to reach into the lavender, comfortable slippers and relax at the warm temperature which takes away the feeling of the draft that enters the room. Speedily, I rub my slightly damp eyes so she doesn't realise that tears have been shed and will believe that this action is because I have just awoke.

"How are you?" she then crosses her arms, the side of her body resting against the doorframe. I want to spit out a sarcastic and bitter remark but then I see she really is genuinely concerned; my mouth stays shut.

"I'm fine," I answer, shifting my position towards the end of the bed. It's not known to my knowledge of why she's here-perhaps she wants to make amends as we are close but I'm not sure if I will be able to.

"How is he?" she quietly questions, jutting her chin to where Michael is laid. I turn towards him and lightly run the palm of my hand over his forehead and curls. I believe that he is the one with the fever due to his hot temperature. My hand then touches the bare skin of his shoulder and chest. I gasp, inaudibly, surprisingly as it's hot too. I worry. But I don't want to wake him up yet-it's far too early and he needs to rest after all that has been going on.

"He's fine too," I exhale, getting up from the bed. She exits the room with me; we are careful not to make a sound on the way out. I shut the door and face Jamila, reluctantly about to listen to what she has to say.

"How was last night? I feel it wasn't so good," she massages the middle of her chest, her eyes showing an emotion of sadness and empathy. She's my sister. I'll always know what she is feeling. But after that incident, I'm having doubts.

We slowly walk down the corridor, make our way down the wooden stairs and re-start our conversation in the living room.

"He's healing. And no, we didn't make love-if that's what you're going to assume and be harsh about," I shift away from her, not wanting a heated discussion to be brought up again.

"Nadia...even if you did make love, there wouldn't be anything wrong with that. If you love Michael and he loves you, who am I to judge?" she heavily sighs at my strong want to move away from her and hesitantly, she moves a little closer to me. I frown at her change and comparison of words to a few days ago where she completely was against Michael and I being together-an attitude even worse than our parents'.

"Not that long ago, you hated the fact that Michael and I were intimate. You said all of these painful things about us-Michael heard you too-so what makes you think I consider what you're saying is truthful?" I hiss, continuously twiddling and fiddling with pieces of my hair.

"I admit that I was incredibly harsh but I'll also admit I didn't mean any of those things. I was just envious of your relationship-you already know that I'm still saddened at the death of Thomas. I just hated to see the fact that you and Michael always spend time together, never spending too long apart. Your love for each other is always reminded and sacred to both of your hearts. I let my anger and hurt take over. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. I just want your forgiveness, you're my sister and I hate hurting you..." she says quietly, swallowing back tears. And when I hold her in my arms, she can't hold back anything. That's all I wanted to hear. Hear her admit that Thomas had something to do with this false hate. I do forgive her-she's my sister. Truthfully, she wouldn't have the heart to do that.