"I'll be back in a moment, I have to go wash up" I explained to my three family members, there after I scooted my chair out from beneath me, adjusting my body so I was allowed to get up from my seat without problem. Seeing the carpet move underneath of me, snaking in symphony with my footfall, creating ripple effects under where my feet should be, I can see my shoes, white with black laces, entirely white like the white walls of a room, the black infecting the purity of my shoes like ink stains to paper. Walking to the bathroom took an eternity, the faceless people, the faithful people, the people seemed to notice me as if I were the reason they were alive, silencing themselves with every step I take. I was the sun in the room of darkness, they were the moths to my light bulb.
Arriving at the bathroom door the dark oak wood felt cold to the touch, as I pushed the door open the heat from my hand left an imprint on the door, like heat reactive pencils to your touch, I saw my hand print on the door where my hand had previously been placed before. I turned away from the door to find a mirror, parallel with the door. I look at myself in the mirror and find me in all of my sudden beauty. "Is this real, or am I in a dream?" I asked myself as I stared back at myself in the mirror. I could now feel the walls closing in like a colossus had pushed them together to provoke the life out of my body, squeezing me I felt the deadliness closing inside me, making it harder and harder to breathe. The walls surrounded me like soda in a can, making my insides feel as if they were melting into me because of my claustrophobic surroundings.
Just when I fell back onto the wall behind me I felt a hand place itself on my shoulders, the way they moved to the curvature of my shoulders made me forget the canned feelings I had experienced just a few seconds before. As I look up I see a face, a face of a man seamlessly perfect to me, his face ,in the absence of the faceless people outside the bathroom door, made me feel like the consumer of the best nectar, his hair, looked as if it were a sea of barley. "Hey are you okay". The mysterious man asked me as he held me, his touch seemed to ignite my body into flames of furious intensity. His words, captivating me like a Stephen King Movie. "Hey are you okay". This man said again in such a reassuring tone it entranced me to breathe.
"I am okay". Was all I could speak, he seemed to understand my conviction and inflection of my words based on my rattly voice. "Let me help you up". He said, pulling his hands off of my shoulders and lending me his hands as they were suspended in midair. The absence of his touch seemed to warn me, if I leave this moment I leave a possibility to be happy. "Thank you". I willed myself up onto my feet with help of his hands. The touch seemed to shoot me, sending me into a numb shock, eclipsing my soul as if I were already dead. Then he pulled his hands away, creating a void in me that craved him, like a drug addict to his craving to escape reality.
"Do you need help getting to your table?" The mysterious man asked as if he knew what was on my mind. "I would appreciate that" I say with the world slowly spinning around me, the spinning began to stop as he helped me through the door of the restroom. My breathing began to restore itself and the dining room stopped spinning when he was with me. Who was this man? why was he here to help me? was I still in a dream?
"Its the one in the middle of the room" I stated as he gripped my waist tighter and adjusted himself. I feel bad so I began to pick myself up under his arms and walk with my own weight, as he began to realize what I was doing his arms remained unmoved. Finally we reached the table where my family sat, He held me tight one last time before introducing himself to my family. I tried to listen to his words but his words seem to scatter before they could reach me, bouncing off the bodies and avoiding my ears. As this was happening I heard a loud buzzing, it must be my alarm clock. I must be dreaming, but why does this feel so real? The mysterious man seemed to hear the buzzing too, although he was not frightened for this reality to end, he turned to me, smiled and spoke his name to me so clearly. "Clay Dylan" he said as my vision began to blur. It was a dream, a dream of someone I had never seen.
Those were my last thoughts before I awoke
YOU ARE READING
Dream of me in your darkest of light
FantasyI saw you in my dream, one night in the middle of spring. I thought it was someone I just dreamed of until you showed up when I was out with my family at dinner.
