With a stranger

With a stranger- Partial sight

If she opened her eyes, she'd be awake, and this was what she needed to avoid.

Being awake, she was constantly dwelling on thoughts, it seemed like she had lost control over her mind.

But if she could somehow keep a hold on the last dregs of sleep, not let it fall through her fingers again, she could pretend.

Pretend that everything that happened to her was only a bad dream, haunting her present.

That had happened*

In her dreams, she could fly, whilst in conscious thought, she was weighed down by a leaden heart.

The weight of her anxieties were only increasing everyday and with every step she took forward, she'd go three steps behind.

Everything seemed to push her another eight, simple things, a dropped tea bag, a CD left upside down, even a- a knock at the door...

She knew she had to pick herself up and that she was more than her fears and insecurities.

But she seemed so far away to herself, the she knew she was far brighter, but like the moon, fears would always overshadow the grand view she could have of herself.

She grew up too fast, without really having a normal childhood that all kids deserve.

Again, a knock at the door, this time forcing her eyes wide, the final scraps of her fantasy world, vicariously living in an alternate past, were torn away.

Should she get herself out of there, or stay where she is and wait for it to unfold?

Put*

The latter seemed the best, leaving things as they were never hurt anyone, eventually those behind door number one would have to go, right?

But what if things could be better, was she avoiding fear or avoiding feeling anything at all?

There was one thing that she knew for certain, whether she answered the door or not, she was awake, doing nothing would only allow room for thought.

She was already contemplating a million things in her head, most of which were unlikely to happen, but created all the panic nevertheless.

A million million million things, all suddenly rushing from the nothingness they had occupied and into the somethingness that filled her head, why, why, just...fuck it, she thought.

She didn't know what got into her, was it the desire to conquer her fears or a desperate attempt to get out of that trap that her mind was, she opened the door.

The trap*

"uh...", in the doorway, just outside the threshold, a black eye paired with a devilish smirk, both of which were attached to the tiniest looking woman she had ever met.

She was just standing there, staring at her, not uttering a single word.

Are you... are you okay?", She looked down, whilst trying to seem like she wasn't looking down

"Oh , I'm fine young lady... what does it look like to you? Don't you remember me?" she asked, glaring at her.

"Why would I-" Immediately, she realised, there was a yellow bruise across four of her knuckles, as if she'd drove her fist into a brick wall "-remember, uh"

"Come in, have a seat! I'll get you something to drink and we can talk" she said, trying to be nice and compensate for her loss of memory.

"you really don't remember then? I mean, toots, you got one hell of a right hook" the tiny mail woman quite happily sauntered over to the fridge, grabbing a pint of milk and pressing it to her purpled face.

"I'm so..sorry..I seem to have a fragile memory, how do we know each other?" she asked, feeling embarrassed and anxious at the same time.

"We do... you really don't remember me, hun?" She looked, hurt? hurt wasn't close, she looked distraught, her words had wiped the smirk from her tiny lips "I'm Victoria, Victoria Yakovic"

"Oh Victoria, I couldn't really recognise you after all these years" , she lies, still quite unsure of who really is the woman sitting in front of her

"Anna, you say that, but the way you look at me..." Victoria puts the milk down, the swelling hasn't gone down at all "It's only been a year, hasn't it?"

"Been a year since what?" Anna was really confused, unsure of what is real and what is not.

"Well we saw each other last night, but you freaked out big time, hun" She takes a swig of the milk, gulping it down, then whipping her mouth "but it's been a whole year since you left to make it big here, the big city and all that crap"

Credit to the stranger, another writer who will remain nameless unless otherwise wanted