Icarus

4

↢ ↣

The nightmare is relentless, refusing to release me to consciousness until I'm good and terrified, as they all are. I'm standing on the roof of my house in our quaint, suburban neighborhood. The city lights are visible from the peak, but they seem too bright, throwing everything out of proportion. The security light a few houses away is downright blinding. The wind blows hard enough to make my balance feel unsteady.

My parents stand below me to the right, Mom looking petrified, Dad looking stern, and Joshua looking like he wished he'd thought of this scheme before I did. They're begging me to come down, to slide down the roof right down this moment before I fall and break my neck. The rain starts, just a drizzle at first, but crescendoing into a downpour, but it's silent. I can see the rain rebounding from the shingles with it's force, but it makes no sound at all. All I can hear is my own breathing and Mom's faint pleads.

To my left is the clique. They're trying on dresses, stylists fawning over their hair and facial structure. Amelia turns and looks up at me. "If you want to join us, jump," she says. And I do. I very much want to join her; I want that life. I want to wear dresses and have people approve of my pant size. I want my hard work to mean something to someone other than myself. Their validation is a desperate, cloying thing that I don't have the power to resist anymore. It claws at me and wraps its hands around my neck. I can feel its talons digging in, right above my lifeblood.

Mom's pleas fade away. My family evaporates into the wind, nothing more than dust. I take one step closer to the edge, balancing on the peak of the roof. The shingles are slick against my socks. Amelia's siren song bleats louder, wending into my brain and my lungs and my heart. I want this. I want them. I need them. One step closer to the edge of the roof. The lights are dimming around me, fading to their normal wattage and darkening further. I almost can't see the ground now. I wipe the tears from my cheeks, take a shallow breath, and step the final step.

Static. I don't even get to see if I land.

↢ ↣

"And you are writing these dreams down, correct?" Dr. Jaeger asks. As usual, she wears her mask of expert calm. I think it's supposed to be reassuring, but it just makes her feel less human, to me.

"Yes," I say through my yawn. "Felix gave me a journal, and it has sat faithfully on my bedside ever since. This is the third entry of the same dream." I rub my eyes, thankful that I chose to forgo makeup today.

"You and Felix are still pretty serious, yeah?" The mood shifts to something like girl gossip, even though this is a therapy session. It's been a couple weeks since I've seen her, putting me behind on my story schedule, but giving me more time to rest my brain.

Felix has spent almost every waking moment at my house since he gave me the journal, but that's not new. We went to see my friend Violet play with her band at a club. Felix seemed to sense when I needed to go outside and breathe, or when I needed his hand to quell the shaking in mine, or when I needed space to tell my friend how much I appreciated her. The window in my bedroom stays permanently unlocked. Felix leaves my house at sundown, goes and showers at his own house, and comes back through the window. And while that sounds very daring and romantic, we literally just cuddle and watch the Harry Potter movies until we fall asleep.

He also kisses the nightmares away. I feel like I'm taking up too much of his time, seeing as he never leaves my house. I try to let him know that it's okay if he wants to hang out with his friends, or if he wants to spend the night in his own bed, but he insists I'm not being a burden. I feel like one day, he's going to look back at these months he's spent with me and resent me for taking up so much of his life.