sad•ness (/'sadnis/)

one

The sun's rays were soaking into my skin as well as blinding my sight. My feet swung on the cliff's edge, with my arms resting behind my back to support my body. If I squinted, I could make out the slightest view of the drifting sunset ahead of me and the outline of a figure beside me. The figure seemed to have belonged to a male, a young male. His face was blurry, as well as his body, except for a pair of blue eyes.

It wasn't that dark shade of blue or even that piercing crystal, it was it's own unique shade. The colour had you memorised by it's vibrance and the distinct view of a pale green around the pupils. It left you questioning along with a tingling feeling in your stomach.

I turned back to face the open air and focus on the sun by the horizon. I hadn't even realised my chapped lips had parted and words were at the edge of spilling out, as if I had no control over my body.

"You know, there's no such thing as having a private life. No matter how many times you say it, it's not true. The words you speak can be listened to. The actions you make can be seen. The thoughts you form can be expressed. If people can notice the internal processes, such as breathing, they can notice the external ones as well."

Silence filled the air, you couldn't even hear the crashing of the waves down below. I was confused; who was I talking to? And why did I just say that? Why isn't there any noise? And then I heard it. If I payed attention, I could make out the sound of a heart beat. No, heart beats. It wasn't creepy either, like in those movies or in the hospital. In fact, it was quite beautiful; as if they belonged to each other.

"Not if you fake everything."

I turned towards the young man who decided to respond. And when I looked at his eyes, they weren't that blue anymore. They were a greyish blue; and if you looked close enough you could make out an emotion.

Sadness.

* * *

It's not fun jolting up in bed at one twenty-three in the morning with sweat beating down your face and body. At first it's hard to put together where the hell you are and it's even harder to discover how to breathe again. I don't know why I'm catching my breath in the first place; did I stop breathing in my sleep? Did my body forget how to function in the fraction of the second between dreams and reality? The body is a complex system that it itself doesn't seem to understand.

Waking up with no breathe, yet seeming to let a scream fall from my lips, isn't out of the ordinary for me. In fact, it's quite normal especially around this time. People everywhere around me seem to talk about how dreams are better than reality; how they always find themselves wishing they could stay in their dreams forever. And throughout all these passionate talks and conversations about dreams, no one seems to jolt up from them like I do. Well no one I have come across that is.

I live in a city called Sacramento in the famous state of California. The city is somewhat known for it is the capital of the state, but Los Angeles seems to beat it by a land slide. Sacramento isn't quite the extraordinary city people seem to think it is. I mean yes we have small forests, tons of trees, the state's capital building, and even a small "Old Sac"; but it's mainly just your average buildings everywhere.

With the thought of Sacramento in mind, I reach towards my side table and grab the tall, glass of water. I seem to always be thirsty after waking up to yet again another one of my wild night dreams, hence why I keep water by me.

After my throat seems to have come back to its normal state, I place the empty glass on the table and check the time on my phone; almost two in the morning.

"Shit," I mutter as I toss my body back onto my pillows and try to gather any sleep I can before school tomorrow.

* * *