Dreaming [completed]

Chapter Thirteen

With a quick start, I jumped up in my seat and gasped for air. The headache and weak feeling of limbs was nothing compared to the utter shock and tire I was feeling. The air smelt of flourishing pine and forested dirt.

Johnson came back from the sink in her room. There was a door that hid a small bathroom, which I assumed had many uses, but she used it to bring me water whenever I was parched. It was time to get a good drink.

The older brunette smiled down at me. She didn't notice that I was completely shocked. I was back in prison, and I couldn't be happier or more astonished.

I felt exactly the same as I was supposed to, aside from the slight amnesia and headache. My fingers felt my hair and face, and I knew that everything was back here. The train was gone, as well as the people I had killed. Johnson didn't even seem to notice that whenever I looked at her there was a newfound desire to die.

"What's wrong? You looked spooked! I was just getting to the part where you were dragged into the supply room of the train until you were brought to prison." Her amiable smile and benevolent voice was hard to detest, but it was easy to hate what she muttered when I had just experienced it.

I shook my head and simply drank my water. It tasted cool and metallic, but I didn't mind it at all. It tasted good for someone who had just drank blood.

The warmth of the room calmed my shivering nerves and helped me settle down enough to speak. "I'm fine, but please don't continue." I was still shaking for no reason. Perhaps it was to shake the demons off my back.

She gave a weird look. She was trying to garner what emotions I was feeling. I suppose it was her job to do that, but I never liked it when she tried to read me like an open book. She would always do that thing where she would stare at me with squinty eyes and try to focus really hard on me. She would look at both of my eyes, trying to see into my soul, and then sigh when she figured that whatever she was looking at was broken.

A look of disappointment shadowed over her face. She sat down at her usual spot and got comfortable. Her left leg crossed over her right, and her hands cupped her coffee filled mug like a beacon of hope. As usual, she gave that look that made everything seem so wrong, and she was keen to prove that.

"You know, you killed people senselessly. I'm here to tell you that your fervid, murderous spree was definitely not who you are now." Her voice was so admirable. She sounded like one of those old ladies that kept talking about her memories, but her skin glowed with marvelous light. Her jubilance was never expressed with the victory of her work, but I could tell that somewhere in her life there was happiness.

However, her galvanizing voice was always something that set me off in either a wonderful or horrible way. She thought it wasn't I who killed five people, one being the woman I had grown so close to. She was mistaken, and I felt so bad for the both of us.

The biting words often ached my cuts and injuries. The sharpness penetrated my tender skin and caused severe pain to the arduous thickness I had acquired. Distressed and wounded, I had decided it was time to have the most abrupt, spontaneous mental breakdown I ever had.
*
Unwavering winds blew through the forest that stood ever so still. Not a wolf or rabbit trotted along as the grass slapped to one side and subsided along the current. Even the baby ripples in the water were only an example of what the forest brought forward. The enchanting leaves and tantalizing sky was only a mirage. Everyone could tell that at night, when the storm raged onward, the branches jerked one way and flexed the other. The waves in the puddles of water roared forward, jolting onward to the eerie bank that kept every secret untold.
*
Tears started to trickle down from my eyeballs to my lips. I could taste the rich, salty tears.
At first, the mental pain I felt was just a close up inspection at what I was constantly feeling. Instead of realizing everything immoral that I had ever done, I had focused on how much of a meritorious person I was, but the fortuitous happiness was no longer on my side.