Sweet Night Lies. - Chim

New Dawning - Chapter 10

KIMBERLEY'S POV

my mom would always sing me a lullaby to sleep before she died when i was 11. i remember her calm voice soothing me to sleep. she would gently brush my hair as she sat on the side of my bed and planted me infront of her trying to get me not to move. she would sing songs as she ran the brush through my hair and when she was done she would turn me around then cuddle me in her arms. she would pull back the covers of my small bed and tuck me in with a kiss on my forehead and my nose.

now i've accepted that i'm not getting any sleep again. i tug the thick layers of sheets off me, i slowly get out of bed and turn on the light. my eyes slowly adjust to the light as a i walk over to the kitchen. i can bearly make out the shadows of the dark room but i dont care to put on the light. i look for some tea bags in the wooden cupboards. and slam the cupboard shut thoughtlessly.

then i realize i took out two tea bags. i'm instantly saddened. my hands quickly throw the tea bag across the kitchen not caring where it lands.

i put the kettle on and wait for the water to boil as i open up the back porch door. leaving it open for the almost dawn cold air in the house liking the way it feels. and how fresh it is with hardly any cars on the misty roads.

by the time the water is ready the first sun rays peak through the tall london buildings. i dip the dry tea bag in the water and shake it a bit the brown taking over the water. i add some creamer and i watch the dark and light dance together swirling and twirling almost slowly then blending into one color.

i take the mug in my hands and walk onto the back porch. i watch the sun come into contact with the sky. the yellow oozing onto the light blue. the sun rays streaking onto the sky as i take small sips of my tea.

and i feel pathetic for letting my lonely and insomniac thought get a hold up me again.

i sit on the steps, the steps where weeks ago she was sitting. her hands wraped around a cigarette, her hair falling infront of her face cascading down her shoulders. a slight pout laced on her lips and shadows casting on her cheeks from her cheek bones.

but she isn't here now. and i realize how lonely those mornings where without me. but i wanted to work on the song early in the morning rather than at night. i wanted to.

i place my mug to the side of me on the old wooden steps. and i see her cigarette sitting in the same spot. her nude lipstick stained an edge of it. and the other edge burnt off still having a few wisps of ash on it.

and i remember the taste of her kiss that night. smoke and lipstick, i run back in to unlit house. i search through all the cupboards knowing that cheryl hid some in one. my hands shake looking through them and i get annoyed with myself at how scared i am. i am going to die anyway.

i find a pack of cigarettes and take a fag out. i hold it in between my teeth and grap a lighter in my hand and set it off with my thumb and i protect the flame with my other hand, the warmth hitting my fingers. i put the lighter down on the cold marble counter and inhale.

the smoke burns my tounge and scratches my throat then my lungs. i cough a little bit but then the familiarity of her is there. and i like it.