The Dreaming Sleep

Monsters Of Jealousy

         Things were different, for Vince, for me, and even, our life. I did not know what we were up against… or even, who. The next morning, I got up and Vince was still sleeping. I was dressed in some clothes from my side of the closet and picked into his pockets for any extra money. I found ten dollars left wrote him a note like the one he did for me and left it on the coffee table. It was in the afternoon when I left. I remembered where to go and how to get to the market. Females of almost every age were looking and whispering about me as if they had never seen me before.

I tried not paying any attention to them; I would look down then up to see where I was going. Once I got near the market, the shop I had bought my dress at was gone and run down and it was falling in on itself. I knew something about that shopkeeper was different. I kept walking and I looked up, there were few people there now. I swallowed my spit, clenched my fist and started walking around to different vendors. I bought certain things that were cheap and looked around for more strawberries. I found it on the far side of the market. I bought it and started for home. A man in full blown black with the hood up like a cloak with three chains, two hung down and the other, hanging across his chest with some kind of strange objects hanging down like small skulls and bones, I couldn’t see his face. He was following me from a few feet away so I started to walk faster and I turned into a alleyway and ran.

I did not pay attention to where I was going as long as I was running from him. I held on to the strawberries and the other groceries along with a few other things that I had bought. My long straight jet-black hair was flying behind me, I could hear the rapid footsteps behind me; I stopped to look around for an exit and saw the house I had came from. He was just around the corner, I ran to the house, when I had opened the door and slammed it closed shut to hide, closed the curtains on the window and peeked through them. He ran passed in the direction he thought I went in. I put the things on the dinner table and sat on the couch out of breath in relief. Vince had come quickly walking in looking concerned of what just happened. I did not know what to say, did not know what to think, I just sat there. He came to me, kneeled down on the floor, and asked, “I saw your note on the coffee table. Where did you go? What happened?” I shook my head no and put both of my hands on my head; he kept asking me repeatedly, I kept shaking my head no harder and harder. He was starting to get worried and he pulled me towards him to hug me. I grabbed him and held onto him tight. “You’re shaking, what’s the matter? Please… you have to tell me… Crimson, please, tell me!” I stayed silent and lied in bed for at least six days straight. I did not eat, drink, or even, sleep. The only time I got up was to use the bathroom then I would go back to bed. The image I had in my head was frightening. I finally got up and went to the living room, sat on the couch, and Vince noticed me from the kitchen after those six days, stopped what he was doing, sat down next to me, put his arms around me, and I just sat there staring blankly at nothing. I turned my body and head to him and his eyes were shining, the bruise was almost gone. I put my hand on his chest; one hand on his face, I started to speak. Telling him what had happened. I told him a white lie. It is where you tell the truth but not all of it. I left out the part where I had seen the horrifying face and the ripe strawberries on the table still wrapped neatly in a bag on the table.

He sighed deeply, put his head and hand on mine, the other on my hand that was still on his chest. I did not know what to feel anymore, did not what to think, I did not even know what to say. The sun was setting once more. It was twilight once more. We soon ate dinner. Afterwards, I grabbed the bag, took out the neatly wrapped box with a bow that was a deep red color, handed it to him. Looking surprised, he grabbed it, looked at me then the wrapped container. He opened it slowly, taking off the wrapping, and smiled big. “Strawberries, did… did you get them… for me?” I nodded and said yes. “I found them on the far side of the market. The person had other fruits; I couldn’t remember what you liked so I got you strawberries instead.” I got up, kissed him on the cheek, and took his plate to the sink along with mine. I washed the plates as he started to munch on the strawberries; I could smell the sweetness and enjoyed the scent. I soon finished the dishes and went to the bedroom to change into some shorts and a baggy muscle shirt. Vincent walked into the bedroom holding the container. There were two left and he gave me one. I held it with both hands, I looked at him as he smiled his eyes seemed to be shining, oddly big, and they were pleasing. I looked at the strawberry, took a bite of it, and enjoyed how it tasted.