Hours

19- Thursday, May 17th

9:43 PM

I'm right; I'm exhausted. I fall asleep almost as soon as I curl up under the covers, drifting into the same deep sleep I've had for the past week.

And with the sleep, of course, comes the dreams.

High notes, low notes, a dancing melody that swirls around and around and around. The world around me is dark and all I know for a brief moment is the music. Then my eyes open and the music stops and my hands fall flat by my side. I look down at them, at the pristine nails, how they rest on my light gray dress. I don't know how to play the piano. I know that, but right in front of me is the grand scale of ivory and ebony keys that I'm certain I was playing a moment ago.

"You're curious, aren't you?" A voice behind me asks. It's quiet, deathly quiet, but I hear it. I stand from the bench, turning to face the voice. The woman staring back at me is familiar, so familiar, but I can't figure out where she's from. I look at her casual attire; her white blouse and jean jacket, and her long black hair that hangs loosely over her shoulders. Her blue eyes are huge and just looking into them makes me feel as if I've seen them before.

"Curious about what?" I ask suspiciously. I look down at myself as if that'll help me identify her. The gray dress I saw earlier actually forms to my body quite tightly, in a way I feel like I shouldn't like, but I do. I reach my hand up to touch my hair, which is half pinned near the top of my head. I touch my face, which feels smooth and free of makeup, and I look at the woman in front of me again.

Then I see it. Her wings, magnificently haloed in a bright light, spread out just for a moment. I inhale sharply, and I see her roll her eyes.

"Do you really forget every time? That's... interesting." The angel says quietly as if to herself. Although, everything she says sounds quiet and whimsical, like a soft breeze.

"You're doing really well, Kayla. I know this is, well, different, but I trust you." She whispers.

"You asked me if I was curious," I say, looking at this woman differently. "Curious about what?"

"You said it yourself; you can't play the piano." She responds easily. "But you just did."

"I never-"

"It's the same as how you feel right now. You'd never befriend someone like Micheal, never leave Lindsay and Ashley, never let anyone get close to you." I feel transparent like this woman knows me better than I know myself. I feel myself blush as she goes on. "But you just did."

"I never said any of those things." I protest, unsure as to why I'm defending myself. She's right, and it's not a bad thing.

"Not out loud. But think about it, Kayla. We're in your dreams right now. You know that you have to. You may not say these things aloud, but your subconscious says them loud and clear. And that's all I need to know these things." The calmness in the angel's voice unnerves me, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. It's just her voice, just us, in this dark room, the piano, the stage, everything is gone, and we are all that remain.

"You're in my head." It's an accusation- I'm hurt, I'm scared.

"Yes-" She starts, but I'm too angry, too irrational to think straight.

"You're in my head," I repeat, louder, harsher. "Get out of my head!"

"Kayla-"

"Get out of my head!" I'm hysterical, I'm crazed. "Get out, get out! Go, now!"

"Kayla, listen-"

"Enough!" Surprisingly enough, I'm the one to cause complete silence in the growing hurricane of noise. Everything falls silent. The angel looks neither hurt nor angry. She looks like she expected this. She calmly moves to stand in front of me and offers me her hand.

"I told you... I..." I can barely get the words out, I can barely breathe.

"Take it." She whispers, her voice a quiet brush.

I look at her, calm, quiet, expectant, and slowly raise my hand. I'm terrified; my heart is pounding, my lungs are struggling to just breathe, and my legs are shaking violently.

I take her hand.

And then I am falling, but up. I'm falling up, up towards the ceiling of the theatre that is no longer there, towards the black blanket that coats the sky above me. The angel disappears within a blink, and soon the stage and piano are out of sight. And then it's just an all-consuming darkness, with no direction but I know I'm going up. There's no other direction than up, and that's where I go.

I blink slowly in the darkness, watching as the nothingness moves around me slowly. I can't see my hands in front of my face, or my legs or the dress, and for a moment I feel completely enclosed, cocooned, safe. There's nothing here, just me. I could be soaring farther and faster than ever possible, I could be sinking, I can't tell. It's complete serenity. It's complete closure.

It's safety.

Then the light changes and the world around me is gray and white, static unsureness, it's the same colour all around but there's now light and it's different, so different, so refreshing and I can see detail but it's covered, light but it's dark, ground but sky and sky but ground and I feel myself spiralling, spiralling, spiralling, and the ground rushes up but it's only sky, just sky, and there is no ground, but there must be, there has to be, because I'm closing in on it, because I'm not flying up but down, falling not down but up and as I fall through the clouds that are as harsh as knives but as soft as pillows and down, down, towards the sky, I feel-

My eyes open in the light of my room. My alarm is a minute from going off and I lie there, tucked under the covers, shaking despite the calmness of my heart. I think back to how it felt to fly, to fall, to be completely out of control...

I was so calm.

My hands shake as I uncurl myself from my cocoon of sheets, taking deep breaths to steady them.

I stumble towards my closet, terrified at the thought of flying away again. I clutch every solid surface available as I limp towards the bathroom to change.