Oblivion (& The Blurred Lines In-between)

CHAPTER TWELVE: Black Wings

My eyes opened in alleviation. The bittersweet melody held onto its intimacy, staying fresh in my mind, precisely as it did the first time. It gave me a sentiment of comfort despite the poignant tune it played. The nostalgic touch against the cold, ivory keys was proven a great catharsis for me, steadying the trembling that took control over my spare fingers. Recalling the agonizing experience sent pleasant thrills down my spine; It felt great to be playing the piano again.

But instead of the immense desire of warmth and smiles I longed to welcome, the mood changed to quicksilver when my eyes encountered the unexpected. The familiar, distasteful sight of darkness that was in front of me. My thoughts had turned into never ending circles with one thought clear enough to outwit them all: I was back where I started. I was back where I started.

Baffled, I slowly adjusted my head from its stiff position. The walls that marked off the oblong space were painted in a vanishing obscurity; the black illusion deceived my eyesight, making it arduously hard to see the rest of the hallway. I did not want to be here.

This daunting angst I received from the first dream had returned, shaking my hand firmly, and exchanging one cruel, mocking smirk. Almost as if amused by the reunion between the fellow enemy and impotent victim. It began with my throat. I could feel it clambering down towards my stomach next. This lump of distress gripped tenaciously around my soul, and grew with each passing second. Any form of noise was no distraction from the blatant silence. I could hear my unsteady breaths, alternating with each exhale. I definitely did not want to be here.
It is known that humans have a natural instinct of fight or flight when encountered with a provoking, harmful event. Although there was no physical evidence of a life-threatening scenario about to strike at that moment, it was the insidious feeling that dwelled within me that caused such intimidation. It was apparent which choice my brain had gone with; my senses told me to pick the easy way out: flight.

My feet moved hastily. The walls were closer than I remembered. It didn't occur to me that this feeling of being trapped between two surfaces of obscured stone would affect me until the claustrophobia kicked in. In one decided direction, I began to pick up my pace. The possibility of what could lurk in the darkness frightened me, however I would not relinquish to such thought. I could not afford to comply to my bewildered imagination and look at the path I left behind me. I stepped on the edges of my dress in the process of running mindlessly. The inconvenience relating to the pendulous, white fabric wasn't something that was going to slow me down. To say the least, it wasn't the main obstacle that troubled me.

A nonchalant glint appeared in a corner of the pits of pure blackness. I halted, discontinuing my futile escape. This sheer luster was bright and iridescent, succeeding in capturing my attention. I reluctantly directed my eyesight towards the unknown distraction. A girl, not much taller than I was, stood perplexed in her presentation. She stood completely still, not taking her eyes off of what looked like her worse nightmare: my presence.

I gave in on her staring contest. There was a strong confinement that stirred the both of us, leading towards a much intensified atmosphere. I noticed how she mirrored my demeanor precisely. I tilted my head to one side. She did the same. I conducted my hand upwards in rather sceptical manner to see if she would mimic the movement again. The answer was rather straightforward: it looked as if she copied my every move. Her defined, pale complexion then portrayed an astound expression.

Being perplexed myself, I turned my head to the other direction, in attempts to avoid her sentimental look. I wanted to avoid this insidious confusion. It had overtaken my conscious completely, battling this anxious emotion that once was superior to me not so long ago. Another girl was met along the ways of my chosen path. She, much like the previous, aggrandized the imitation of my appearance. Yet this time, I found her in a worse state. Her fragile body was pressed desperately against a reflective glass behind her. The difficulty for breathing was aggravated as beads of sweat ran down the temples of her face. She desired to evade as much as I did.