Just have Faith {EDITED}

Abditories

Abditory: A place into which you can disappear; a hiding place.

A glass shatters into a million pieces at my feet. I flinch at the sound. I expect to get into trouble. The same woman from my dreams, my mother, appears at my side with a dustpan and a broom.

'Let's clean this up' she says softly.

'Am I going to get into trouble?' I ask

'No. of course not. It was an accident. Something in the outside must have scared you while you were sleeping.'

'oh.. I'm sleeping right now?'

'Yes. As soon as we clean up the glass, you can go ahead and wake up. You've slept a lot today. Your friends are leaving soon.'

Leaving? Where are we going? I don't bother to ask her. I just help clean up the shattered glass on the white tile floor. Once it's all disposed of, my mother gives me a hug and plants a gentle, yet loving kiss on my forehead.

My eyes open slowly. Sunlight is pouring through a window and filling the room with warmth. I cannot see who's in the room with me. Slowly and shakily, I push myself up onto my elbows. The cast on my wrist makes it harder to move. I struggle to find a grip on the soft sheets. I hear someone shuffling around behind me. My sore body aches to turn and see who's in the room, but at the same time I am too achy to move.

"Hey. It's Dakota." says Dakota.

I grunt, acknowledging that he is there.

"I'm gonna help you up.' He says

I grunt again, arms getting achy already. Two hands reach under my arms and gently pull me up into a sitting position. Once I'm there, I realize that I need to use the bathroom really bad. I look at Dakota, only to find that he's not here. Great, my only source of help walked away. Then, I notice how close the bathroom door is to the couch. It's only a few steps away. I'm technically not allowed to put any pressure on my leg, but if I could just make it to the bathroom....

I yank a pillow out from under the blanket. Opening the pillow case as best I can, I slip it over the bottom of the cast. Then, with a gentle push, my leg is off the bed. My body aches at all the movement, but I have to keep going. I place both feet on the ground as best as I can and shove myself up onto them. I wobble under the sudden weight. I steady myself and start shuffling to the bathroom, trying to keep as much pressure of the cast as possible. I make it to the bathroom door when I lose my balance. I slam into the cold, hard tile floor with a thump loud enough to wake up the entire floor. The wind is knocked out of my body and I lay there on my stomach, gasping for air. I hear pounding footsteps and someone calling my name.

"Faith? Kid? Where are you?" they yell

It's Dakota.

I finally catch my breath and start coughing. His footsteps approach the bathroom.

"Oh my god! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you!" He says loudly.

I whimper and roll onto my back to look up at him. His knees are touching the side of my ribs. He leans over me to look at my head. He's closer than I'm comfortable with. Yet, I find myself taking in his facial features. The glow to his skin in the florescent lights, the curve of his lips, the way his brows crease in concentration, the worry in those soft, brown eyes. He looks at me suddenly. He starts moving his finger in front of my face. Back and forth, back and forth. Maybe he's trying to check and see if I gave myself another concussion. He stops after a minute, then he just sits there and stares. Like he's waiting for me to say something.