Tiger Stripped Leggings {Joshler}

Painstaking_Cp 6

Why does he seem to find me? Unnerving clouds of lilac float towards my face, filling my eyes with rapid images of my lungs inflating and deflating fire. Just as the fire passes I notice, between the veins, there are tiny cuts lining the flesh. Feeling up my neck I notice my hands bleeding, random lights reminding me of what is true- the sky is dark, blacker than my eyes will ever hope to witness.

I bleed, the sky nipping and tugging, prying my head off slowly. I scream aloud, calling for the honey eyed boy to save me-'

"Lovely Buns! Come to the table, breakfast is ready!" Breaking me from a trance I frown, realizing I have been staring at my ceiling fan. The thoughts that have occurred weren't in a dream, but were paralyzing me stiff. Slightly wiggling my pinky finger, my chest let's out a shaky heave. Sleep paralysis shouldn't be a daily occurrence, yet happens every so often without warning.

Stepping down from my bed, the freezing hardwood floor pulls me out of my haze, helping me focus on my surroundings. Shivering, I yank a blanket from the top of my bed, wrapping the fluffy warm wool around my bare torso. I notice my windows open and groan, previously hoping mom would stop coming through my bedroom and listen to my pleads.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as sore legs lift me up and through the hallway, straight into the unlit bathroom. The tile is uncomfortable and chills my toes, causing me to think straight and throw my blanket down. I pause to stare at the tossed blanket, train of thought faulting before I notice the gross chill once again and step onto the wool. Smirking at my genius work I proceed to relieve myself, briefly closing my eyes for rest behind my eyelids.

Lovely dark clouds, faintly pink in the distance, calls my name

I shudder, finishing up my routine of the morning set with a quick hop in the shower followed by clean teeth. Gliding out of the bathroom with my new freshly pressed towel on my waist I sneak into my antarctic room, grabbing aimlessly for a pair of clothes to wear. In the dark I spot black jeans and a light gray shirt (with a pair of my favorite boxers of course) and throw them on without tipping over. Smiling at my digital clock reading '9:40 am' I rush out of the cavern I call my room and greet my mom for breakfast.

Jogging to a walk I notice mom looking very nice, a pink cardigan matched with her "special" black tapered jeans I've only seen her wear once, that being at my 6th grade promotion.

I scoot in my seat, slightly confused at the outfit choice and throw a glance at her. I notice her preparing a plate of silver dollar pancakes behind the counter and become even more baffled- what was the occasion? Running a list through my head I go over my birthday, her birthday, my relatives birthday and come short of everything.

Towards the end of my list I feel wound up inside, my stomach dropping at any passing thought of my father. Was it his birthday, or was it-

"Here you go, Joshie. Made with tender love and some special news!" She coos, placing my plate down with a glass of milk. Her tight smile makes me nervously wiggle in my chair.

I tried to smile, but ended up wringing my hands sore by the time the food arrived, making me wince.

I watch her saunter happily over to the other side of the table and sit down, straightening up at eye level with me. "I have some news I've been waiting weeks to give you." Barely holding back a wild giggly grin I notice how happy she seems, and decide this would be great news no matter the strange, off set colour of the pancakes. I rest easy and pick up my fork, poking at the puffs of dough. Swallowing, she folds her hands in her lap and delivers the news with a hyena grin.

My utensils drop out of my grip, and just as dryly as a parchment paper, I stare. There seemed to be no stopping her now. I choose to hear the words forming from her lips, warrily noticing the walls around inviting me in until I realize I'm slouching, muscles stiff. Relieving some tension from my back I rub my neck, casting my eyes down. I can't handle her bright atmosphere.

Still staring down I tune her out, rehearsing a song dad sang with me at bedtime, leaving a repetitive loop in my brain forever on play.

... the angel from my nightmare, the shadow in the background of the morgue, the unsuspecting victim darkness in the valley we can live like Jack and Sally if you want, where you will always find me...

Where will I always find him?

Thinking better to myself I decide to tune in on the person in front of me, realizing mom shaking her head silently with her eyes closed. I jump at this sudden change of mood and figure out quite quickly I was daydreaming right through her conversation. Immediately trying to comfort her I respond, trying to prove I listened to a shread of what she said.

"What's this guy's name?"

Looking up at me with a small hopeful gleam in her eye, she tells me his name, that being the same as my previous father.

I open and close my mouth, grief overcoming me.

"How come you decide to choose a man with the identical name as Dad?"
I whisper, feeling my heart sink. Silently she places a hand on mine, holding it for a few moments before getting up and walking towards the doorframe. I look up, a thin layer of sadness enveloping my body as she half heartedly speaks out,
"Get your computer set up for class, it starts in 15 minutes." And turns away, leaving me with a plate full of pancakes and a pocket full of sadness.