My Midnight Angel

chapter five

Chapter five

Ever since Jeydon left that night it brought out so many questions.

Will he ever be back?

Will he ever visit?

Could I have done something to anger him?

I didn’t even speak to him?

Was he expecting me to talk to him?

How could I give talked when I was in shock? All my life in a dream state not being able to speak, hear or see. I don’t get why he would leave just like that; and not come back. Not even to ask how I was? Did he not care? Could he have known about me awaking he didn’t look surprised when he saw me. Maybe he had something to do with why I woke up? My gut is saying yes but my head is saying no.

He had always been in my dreams.

And his presence was always there.

 But now there’s nothing no presence of him

No dreams the bizarre boy.

 He disappeared and now it seems more as if he was just a figment of my imagination. Perhaps he did not like what he saw? Is my appearance that horrible?  Maybe he was a dream a long? But if he was a dream then what was the kiss- I couldn’t have imagined a feeling like that ... but now it feels as if I had. Sighing I looked at the girl staring back at me in the mirror. Her brown wavy long hair fell down perfectly to her hips. Her cat like yellow eyes seemed to be shooting daggers. As if she was upset about something.

 Walking away from the reflection, I looked around my aqua blue room. It was big yet empty. Considering I’ve only been here for a little bit it only really had a bed and a window. The aqua color gave the room a peaceful feel. But it didn’t make me feel at home. I just couldn’t get myself to call it “home”. It’s like I don’t belong here.

                The whole house was worse than “my” room. It had this dreadful feeling. The peach colored walls all seemed to be attempting to choke me? Or maybe they just wanted me to throw up? But I’ve become accustomed to the pale walls. Each corner of every wall is filled with pictures of what seemed like a "happy" family. All of course either with me or with my "mother”. Who’s more like a stranger? I can’t call her my mother. I’ve only known her for a little. It just doesn’t seem real. All of this seems like some nightmare.

After I became as the doctors like to call it "alive" everything seems incredibly odd.

I was even the on this thing called the newspaper... I guess I’m the only person to live after being in a coma since birth? I can’t step foot outside without being stared at. It makes me want to crawl away and hid forever and ever .Some people think it’s cool though that's mainly the suicidal people. Everyone else just thinks I am a freak well expect for kids. The little girls who want to be princesses all call me “sleeping beauty”. This is funny because that’s what woke me up a kiss. Strange isn’t it?

Ever since I awoke I’ve been on the news and internet almost like if I was famous. My mother thought to recreate all the 15 or so years I’ve been missing into pictures. I could honestly careless about that “mother”. She leaked all those pictures into the internet. This would be why I hate the damn thing.

Pictures of me are everywhere.

Newspaper.

Internet.

Magazines.

I am tired of my own appearance.

 It is kind of ironic since before I was so eager to see myself.

Shaking my head I continued walking until I reached the living room.

A cold feeling place with an eerie feeling. It was the color of coal with weird designs on the wall. It had a TV-which is always untouched. And finally the life of room..

Books

 And books

And more books.

"Oh Arianna you’re awake" she silently greeted kindly-maybe a little too kindly...

"Umm... yeah" I answered.

Before I could say much the brown haired woman hugged me in hug that seemed as if she wanted to choke me? This lady is insane

                She just stared at me with her ice cold blue eyes. The eyes are the window into ones soul. And her soul is like antartica. Cold and empty.

 I remember when her as well the doctor found out I was more developed education wise than they were it brought a smile to my face. I think my mother was always a bit jealous considering with her being a college professor and what not. She had years and years of schooling-I had none.it wasn’t as if I could tell them I know everything from dreams? They would think I was insane? Maybe just maybe I was...I mean it’s possible I imagined this angel like boy? As if that could ever happen....

                Sitting on the white couch in the center of the black living room. I did as always look around the room examining every inch. Something felt different.it didn’t feel right in here...there was this feeling I couldn’t put my finger on it though. I continued to look around. That is when I spotted the difference. There was a picture on the wall of a man and woman holding hands. The man had pricing emerald green eyes and messy curly black hair. The woman had sky blue eyes and full pink lips and cute pink cheeks. It didn’t long to realize they were in love.it was a beautiful picture they were at the beach laying in the sand smiling as if they were children on Halloween.

"Mother?" I asked in wonder.

She looked at me with curiosity in her eyes.

"Who’s the man in the picture?" I asked. I already knew she was the girl but who was the boy?

"Your father....." she said in a sigh. I don’t think she liked to speak of him. Maybe it brought back too many memories or maybe it was something that happened?

I knew she was upset but I had to find out more "what happened to him?"

Her face filled with sorrow "he- disappeared.... after - you.... were born- he went.... crazy.... and - and killed... he ... he massacred - many people..."

Her voice broke silently...

Now I felt terrible... why did I have to ask?

I know she’s not the nicest but maybe that’s why.

She’s heart broken. That’s why she’s so cold.

She continued though “no one knows what happened or why he did it or where he is... he ran off..."

I could tell talking about him pained her even though they were both strangers to me. They were still my parents... I just don’t get why he would do that....

Something in my gut told be to run.

Far, far away.

I had to get out of this house!

It was driving me insane...

Enough is enough.

I can’t do this.

It’s too much.

I have to run.

I need air.

This doesn’t seem right.

The house.

The man.

My mother.

Jeydon.

Nothing is making sense.

With all these thoughts I did the only thing I could.

I bolted out the door like a missile.

And ran.

And ran.