Adieu

Hallucinations (Michayla)

'There's no way.' Mickey absently thought to herself, closely observing the stranger's movements. While she was expecting him to react in an assorted number of ways, rather it was panic or hostile countermeasures, the pause that followed her initial question and the puzzlement that colored his handsome visage left Michayla's features mirroring his own. He was intruding in her home, lounging ever so cavalier in her bedroom. How was it that he seemed just as surprised, if not more so than she did? It wasn't until the slight shift in his weight, Mickey's burning grey eyes never leaving the gold of his own, did the man seemingly realize that the situation had taken an unexpected turn and reacted accordingly. Still, the realized state of alarm that Michayla witnessed was as unusual and odd as their entire encounter thus far. Not only had the book he had previously been holding vanish into a flash of blinding light, but he also seemed to phase through the armchair, his body shifting and vibrating like that of an apparition.

Michayla let out a frenzied scream as she felt her body fall back against the bedroom door. Reaching around to brace herself against it, one hand finding the knob and the other gripping tightly to the frame, she felt her legs lock in place, either unable or unwilling to move. Who was he...no, what was he? Why was it that he seemed absolutely perplexed in her ability to see him? Was he actually there or was this some wildly vivid fever dream?

"Of course I can see you! What's going on, what are you?!" she blurted.

Mickey could feel the overwhelming wave of fatigue quickly closing the gap, threatening to overtake her and send her body crumbling to the ground. While she prayed that the sudden rush of adrenaline would keep her body upright, wishful thinking wasn't a powerful enough force to combat the disease that reigned supreme in her body. She felt the last remaining bits of color drain from her face as her lower half went numb, her legs finally betraying her and bringing her down to her knees. Mickey cursed under her breath as she attempted to pull herself up again, both hands now clawing at the doorknob in a desperate act to reassert and reassess herself. Alas, such wasn't the case. Between her earlier visit to the bathroom and the sudden coming and going of endorphins, her body had reached its threshold and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. All she could do was hang her head in defeat and choke back sobs that resulted from a twisted mixture of frustration and fear. It didn't matter who or what this enigmatic being was. There was nothing Mickey could do to defend herself, much less actively fight against it.

Michayla allowed her grip to go slack on the knob, her elbows hanging limply as she placed her head between them. This had to be a dream. There was no way, in any fathomable shape or form, that this was anything besides. Her body had reached a point of exhaustion she hadn't pushed it to in a very long time and in its weakened state, concocted strange hallucinations. What else could it have been? Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, Mickey tried to steady her breathing as well as her thoughts, attempting to find and get a grip on reality.

"This isn't happening, Mickey. Get a grip. Get into bed. Go back to sleep." she murmured to herself. Repeatedly she told herself to ignore her surroundings, that this wasn't real, that she needed to come back down to Earth. All the while leaving the alarming figure across the way just as confused and lost as she was.