Reverie [Bruno Mars - Editing]

Chapter twelve

Chapter twelve

The horizon was streaked with a reddish gold light, the sun was rising. I could barely hold my eyes open as I watched the room get inked with gold. Memories of just a few hours ago were replaying in my mind, keeping me awake. Bruno and I had talked through the night, given that was our only option in fear of leaving; lying on our backs side by side in the bed, our voices drifting lightly from us and calmly spreading wide in the darkness of the room. It didn't feel as if we were miles and miles away from home, in an unknown place surrounded by unknown people and an unknown fate. Even though we were.

Bruno told me it took three days to get to me, saying he was scared as hell the whole time. Everywhere he went he felt eyes on him, the feeling of being watched. I asked him why he prayed for it to be someone else when he saw me on the bus.

“I don't know,” he had said, and I felt him shrug. “I guess there was just something about you.”

It was nice listening to him talk, his voice low, steady, warm. It was comforting, and I found myself resting against where his shoulder met his chest, perfectly fitting against his side. I wondered out loud if he knew what they wanted from him, he told me that he doesn't exactly know and we left the topic at that. The thought alone of what they wanted from us, and it could be anything, was terrifying.

If they wanted us dead, we would have been already—possibly meaning they're planning something far worse for us than death.

And then I started to speak. He wanted me to talk about myself. I didn't know where to start. Bruno was silent the whole time, but I could tell he was listening as I told him all the places I lived and visited: North Dakota, where I was born, New York, North Carolina, Washington, Georgia, Florida, Texas. I was too small to remember all of them. I told him how I was home schooled for thirteen years until my mom finally put me in school. He didn't ask about my parents, for which I was grateful. I didn't think I could stand to speak about them. I told him how I used to draw the faces of my friends. I didn't want to forget them, and would keep them in this sketchbook as I traveled with my mom.

“I don't have the sketchbook anymore,” I told him quietly.

“What happened to it?”

I was hesitant at first, but then I felt like I could tell him anything. “I burned it. Threw it in the fireplace. I was angry because we were moving again. I guess I was sick and tired of losing everyone time after time again. I stopped drawing then.” Stopped getting close to anyone.

But here I am, getting close to you.

“Remind me to never get you angry.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Would you draw something for me?” he asked softly, his fingertips slowly tracing circles on my arm. “When we get out of here?”

I felt myself smile. “Draw what?”

“A Nene. It's Hawaii's bird. It's a goose, actually.” He laughed. I closed my eyes, being taken back to my dream. His laugh, like music. “But my mom used to feed one everyday in her backyard. Once she saw it get captured, but it got away. Since then its been her own little symbol of freedom.”

I eventually had to leave. Since there were no clocks, we had no knowledge of what time it was. The sky wasn't so black anymore, just the darkest blue, so we guessed it was almost time for sun rise. I really, really didn't want to leave but Joseph would be up soon and who knew what he was planning. When I was struggling with the door, (it took me much longer than usual since Bruno was watching) and opened it, Bruno looked impressed and baffled at the same time, saying I have ‘skills’. “You've got to show me how to open this crazy shit,” he added, nudging the door with his foot.