Visionaries

eleven

//ELEVEN//

I'm walking down a path I know is not real. I know I'm in a dream. And so I control where I'm going.

When my body's pushed to go right, the voices in my head tell me to go left. I walk through the almost obscure alley to whatever the panacea for my miseries is waiting for me at the end. Along the way, I imagine plenty of scenarios of how I could not make it to the end, but thinking about them has me ready to prevent them.

I don't know how I am aware that if I hold my breath, I'll wake up. Or if someone opens the lights or screams, I'll jolt out of my bed, but I try to put the thought of my control over this dream aside and discover the outcome of this all.

The cure to all my problems at the end of what you can call a tunnel is Darius. He stands there on the lit sidewalk and looks at me. He still has his bed hair. He wears a grey jacket and black jeans with the black boots he always has on. This time though, he wears a look of mercy and not strenght. White lips instead of the bold red. And grey eyes instead of the blinding blue. I stand in front of him.

He smiles.

In a second, he metamorphoses into a storm of particles and diffuses in my skin. The diffusion is painful, but quickly, a sense of safety and rejoice overtakes me and I understand how Darius is my panacea. At the same time, a feeling of grief at the loss of him makes me shiver.

But I wonder. What if I want him to be the cure? I've controlled everything in this dream before him, why not this?

My eyes flutter open and I suck in a deep breath. I stay still, but on the inside, I'm not. I look around. It's light, the window is open, wind circles the dorm room and a presence is felt.

I slowly turn my head around and see Darius sitting on the corner of Cass' bed. He has his back straight, not letting a single wrinkle form in his jean jacket, with his fingers laced together rested on his thighs.

"What are you doing here?" I ask my voice hoarse, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't move an inch. He doesn't say a word for a while. He almost looks like he's not breathing either. But his fingers still twitch.

"Darius."

He turns his head towards me.

"What?" he whispers.

Any drop of joviality that was in him before now seems to have washed away.

"What are you doing here?"

"I really thought I had you convinced. It was naive of me. To think I could keep here."

I stare at the ceiling holding onto the bed cover.

"I had to do it."

"You didn't have to do anything."

"Darius, it's done. There's nothing any of us could do to change what I've decided to do. It's in everyone's best interest. You have to understand that, Darius."

He sighs and doesn't do anything for a while. I stare at the cloudy sky waiting for him to answer.

"Cyrus wants you to know that your train leaves in a few hours. He sent me to give you your ticket. He would have come himself, but he had an appointment with Em."

"I bet you wish he would have come instead of you."

He doesn't deny nor admit.

I turn around, wrapping my bed cover around me even more, and face the window.

"Why are you pissed at me for caring about you and not wanting to send you off to fight my war?"

I sit up and turn around. I face a pale looking Darius contrasting with the blood red of his unrested eyes.