Wish Upon A Star

Something Different

At about 4am Dawn and I said goodnight, I was shocked she was staying up so late. We talked about nothing really, she told me she was 28 and has been living alone since she left her ex back in England after she finished university. I was relieved.

What a weird day.

I change into my silk pyjamas and climb into bed next to Cilla. She is sound asleep, her long dark hair fanning over the pillows. She is so beautiful but so young. She's just a girl, I can't help but think I might have made a mistake bringing her here. I love her but, I'm conflicted.

Dawn, she's something totally new. I know I am a sucker for the new thing that catches my eye, I can't pretend I've ever been faithful to Cilla but something about Dawn was different. The first thing that struck me when I saw her was how beautiful she was even though she had mussed up her hair from getting sick and looked as though she had seen a ghost when she saw me. Something about her just instantly hit me, like she was supposed to be in my life. I can't explain it really, it confused me. She was so shut off and quiet, like she was constantly holding back and on edge. I'm worried she is still a flight risk though. When she said she was leaving I felt my stomach rise to my mouth.

How can someone have such an effect in such a short space of time?

I want to get to know her better, breakdown the walls she clearly has up. I want to help her get back to a better place. She keeps having flashes of sadness cross her face when she thinks no one is looking but I was watching her all night. I couldn't help myself.

I sigh and reach over for the bottle of pills on my bedside table, shake two out and let myself drift into a deep sleep. Thinking about Dawn's stormy grey/blue eyes and long dark brown hair as I curl my arm around Cilla's waist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I groan and roll onto my back. I rub my eyes with the backs of my hands before slowly opening them to look at the white ceiling above me.

It was definitely a dream. A very elaborate dream.

I sit up and really register my surroundings.

Fuck.

I was still in my room at Graceland. This wasn't a dream. I can't tell if I'm sad or ecstatic. I get to spend more time with Elvis Presley but, I'm not home and I'm witnessing a man kill himself with only 12 years of his short life left.

I throw myself backwards against the soft bed.

"Fuck." I say as I recall last nights conversations with Elvis.

I remember he convinced me to stay. He wanted to help. I start to really think about everything that happened yesterday.

He was more than I ever could have imagined. Clearly generous to a fault, even to strangers like me, as all the stories went. He was so beautiful, perfect even, his blue eyes pierced me everytime he looked at me. I thought he was looking into my soul. I didn't want him to really see me so I looked away everytime. He was so genuine, more than I ever thought.

"The image is one thing. The human being is another."

He was so right. Suddenly I'm filled with excitement to see him again. I want to see him. The human being. Right now.

I hop out of bed and into the shower. I get myself ready as fast as I can pulling on a pair of light blue Capri pants and a black tight tshirt jumper. I tease my hair into a small beehive, I never like going too over the top, apply my cut crease eyeshadow and eyeliner. I double check myself in the mirror. I'm ready.