Fragments

2 | Revolving Doors

2 | Revolving Doors

The air around me is warm, almost like I'm sitting in front of a heater. It's pitch black and I can't see anything. I reach out into the distance in an attempt to find the warm source, but as I twist and turn my arms, it almost feels like I'm floating. I desperately kick my arms and legs as I try to find something to hold onto.

Then I see it. The large fluorescent light shining in my eyes. Using my arm, I shield my eyes, but the white light continues to travel in my direction. I'm trapped.

"Pierce?" someone yells.

I leap upright, clutching the sheet to my body. Beads of sweat trickle down the nape of my neck, my clothing stuck to my body.

The door to my room creaks open and light from the passageway leaks inside. The light cascading into the room flickers as a small mop of messy red hair steps inside the doorway.

"Are you okay?" she quietly mutters. "You were screaming bloody murder. I thought you were dying in here."

"No. It's. I'm okay." My throat is dry, leaving my words nothing but a whisper.

"Alright, goodnight." Scarlett softly shuts the door which forces the light out. I'm once again consumed by darkness. Stretching across the bed, I close my eyes and try to get some rest. Once I fade into the darkness of my thoughts, I'm met with the same pool of warm air and the senseless feeling of pain.

* * * *

I run my arm across my forehead to remove the perspiration. My arm flops onto the bed as I huff with dismay. The flashing green numbers on the digital clock has me wincing with irony.

Lifting the drenched sheet, I throw it to the side and climb out of bed. I grab the remainder of the cloth and scrunch it up to the side. At some point, I'll have to ask Scarlett for new sheets.

The brown patterned tiles are cold under the pads of my feet. I push the clear thin plastic shower curtain to the side and begin running the water taps. The pipes rattle as water splashes out of the leaky shower head.

I strip out of my clothing and step over the bathtub and into the shower. Sitting at the bottom, I lean against the wall and watch the water cascade around me. Eventually, I grab the bar of soap and begin washing the bad dream away.

Once I'm showered and dressed, I head downstairs and sneak outside. Scarlett isn't minding the front desk, so it isn't hard to get past. I stick to the left side and wander around until I find a small park wedged between two large buildings.

I walk past the playset and take a seat on the wooden bench. The moment my bottom hits the wood, I sigh with relief. My eyes flutter closed as I enjoy the warm glow of the sun on my skin.

The breeze suddenly stops and I'm left feeling hot. Sweat immediately breaks across my skin and the world fades to a pitch black. There's no floating, rather, I'm glued and unmoving. The light appears from the right side and charges towards, full steam. As the light gets closer, it doesn't stop. Instead, it collides into my side and I'm thrown.

My eyes spring open and I notice the hard ground beneath me and the sand between my fingertips. I roll onto my side and notice the playground and surrounding area. I'm still here.

I thought moving here would be the perfect chance to forget my past . . . to find something worth living for. I curl my knees to my stomach and wrap my arms around my legs.

 "Pierce, are you okay?" I groan as I look up to see the worried look bestowed on Scarlett's innocent face. She's slightly bent forward and out of breath.

"I'm fine." I release my legs and move to stand up. "Just enjoying the warm sun."

"You don't look fine," she notes. "You were screaming. I could hear it from down the street."

Her green eyes are wide with concern, but I shake my head and ignore her question. I'm fine. Brushing the dead specs of grass from my clothing, I begin the walk across the small stretch of grass and towards the motel.

"If you won't tell me, then can I at least walk with you?"

"If you really must," I reply.

From the corner of my eye, I see the small smile that slips onto her lips. Scarlett jogs to my side so that we fall into sync.

"How are you finding living at the motel?" she questions.

"It's accommodating." I shrug. "The television is broken, though."

"I can have that replaced for you."

 "Thank you."

The remainder of the walk is silent. When we enter the front passage, I'm surprised she doesn't walk behind the desk. Instead, she follows me to the foot of the steps.

"Is there something that you needed?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Is there something that you needed?" Is her reply.

"Clean sheets."

"I can do that." She nods.

Scarlett walks through a doorway and swiftly returns with a new stack of light brown sheets. I walk up the stairs and she follows in pursuit. Once in my bedroom, Scarlett places the sheets on the naked bed and collects the discarded bedding from the ground.

"Would you like anything else washed?" she asks.

"Are you sure?"

"I might as well fill my time with something productive." Scarlett laughs.

"I have some clothing in the bathroom, actually." I brush past her and grab the discarded clothing off the ground and pass it to her. Scarlett folds the clothing under her arms and looks at the ground.

"So, I'll see you later," she mutters quietly.

"Yes, and thank you for offering to wash my clothing."

"It's not a problem."

Scarlett slowly takes a step back and then shuffles out of the room. I wait a moment before stepping too close the door. It doesn't feel right closing the door, but I left my fingertips slip off the brass door handle.

I thought closing the door would put an end to the pain, but I think that closing doors and ignoring the problem is worse than tackling it.

As Scarlett walks further away, I can't help but ponder if this is worse than telling her I have problems. That I am afraid. That I am weak. That I can't open doors because I know they're better off closed.

^ gifs are clearly my life, just saying!

What do you think Pierce is running from?