The Playlist

Dance, Dance

The smell of salt poured through my nostrils as the wind swept through my hair. I wore a black dress, ripped up at the trail with a laced corset that was just about ready to break my fragile lungs. I was a deep see breeze and the sky was no longer the limit. The fragments of my heart and my brittle ribs were forced together, sending a painful symphony throughout me. I turned back to see a handsome figure in the darkness, approaching my overcast mood. It was a happy day, it was. The day I would escape. The figure reached out a hand, I was grey and it was pure white. I was fading and it was whole. He. His fingers slipped through mine, a veil. A ghostly one. I stumbled back to the edge of the cliff, it crumbled as I shook, pulses through my body once more. One barefoot backwards, the shards of my heart cascading though my body, slicing me to pieces, before I could survive. I fell. The vacuum of wind caused my hair and dress to engulf me in a beautiful silky cocoon of the dark side. Before the blistering pendants of rock could touch me, a sudden jolt rocketed me away from my oh so deadly fantasy.

I woke with a scream. I was sweating all over, my heart racing. I hugged my shaking legs as scorching tears poured over my rosy cheeks. Hair plastered to my forehead; I stretched my arms till they could break, wrapping myself up. I grabbed a towel of the back of his small IKEA desk chair, it was soft, that new scent chorusing from it. I calmed myself down.

"Beth?" An exhausted Blake rubbed his eyes, walking slowly behind me.

"Having a bath." I said, looking over to him only briefly trying not to drown in those intoxicating eyes or his addictive scent, or the fact that he was so adorable when he was tired.

There was no ritual to complete. I merely sunk into the motherly hug I never got. The water wrapped me up, till I was ready to be reborn for a new day. Another day of a not-so-job. It was overcast; dark clouds seemed to be heading in our direction.

I must have been there a while. Soaking, no thoughts other than those of the water that slipped through my ears and wound round my brain in a delicate transparent blue lace. One thought passed my mind after a lifeless bathe. Was that really my desire? To die? No. It couldn't be.

[...That was Blake's desire...]

I pushed away the thoughts that crept into the darkest places of my mind.

I got out, wrapped the towel round myself like a glove over porcelain skin.

I walked through the corridor, every step I took felt like I was being pulled down, melting. Yes, I was a candle, desperately trying to stay whole, but I couldn't, I was melting.

A startled Blake backed into his uncles bedroom as I passed, a solemn poker face mask displaced upon my own.

I plastered myself with eyeliner and concealer, old jeans and a "just one more level..." t-shirt. I looked in the mirror. I looked like a phantom. I smiled weakly, training myself into a happy state. What nightmares can do to your mind? How stupid.

I plaited my hair, gently but tight. I brushed my fringe until it seemed like it would dry okay. Then I slipped into a pair of black converse and grabbed my backpack, stuffing few things in. I stepped out the door and trudged down stairs, leaving a trail of wax.

I took my old jacket from the banister that I had draped there the other day. A piece of toast from the table and I was ready to go. I got into the old, rusting car sleepily. The fumes of exhaustion escaping to refuge in my already-polluted lungs. It was a bumpy ride to the coffee shop.

The different smells of the air lingered around us as our breath wore thin through the cape of wind that swept towards us.

"Good morning, or should I say cold morning? Do come in! Warm inside, come in!"