Don’t Wake Me Up


Maricel meets Claudius in her dreams


I didn’t want to return home so I bought time as I listened to my music, and dreamed of Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, and preforming under the bright lights of Broadway. Taking a deep breath, I entered into my house, climbed the steps, and rounded the corner startled to see my mother seated on the couch reading an article on her tablet. She glanced up at me and turned up her nose.

“What are you doing home so early, I thought you were working today?” I sighed. Every time she was here she nagged on me about every little thing possible.

“I decided to take the day off to spend some time with you before you graduate” She said. As I stood there her eyes narrowed. “What were you thinking stepping outside like that?” Her red painted lips pursed as she eyed me.

“Would you rather I went naked?” I sneered.

“Your clothes are way too baggy and don’t match, and your hair don’t even get me started on your hair! It’s a tangled black rat’s nest. Why Maricel? You’re a beautiful girl, but you dress like a homeless person. Is this some sort of act of rebellion?” She said. I rolled my eyes. “If you truly loved yourself, you would…”

“Dress like another clone in this vapid world!” I retorted. She covered her face.

“Going outside like that is the equivalent of walking around naked!” She shook her head. A tear welled up in my tear duct burned my heated countenance, and I swallowed back the lump that formed in my throat. “Had I been aware of how awful, you usually looked. I would’ve done something about this crisis sooner.” She said. I rolled my eyes considering it had taken her until the second semester of my senior year of high school to realize how I dressed. Maybe if she gad spent more time with me instead of working, I would’ve taken more after her and been a social butterfly with a sense of style, then again, I’d be another shallow zombie.

“I wasn’t asking for your help!” I sneered. Her face creased into a frown, and her dark eyes became a pair of angry saucers. I turned away and marched up the staircase to my room.

“Maricel!” I ignored her call and locked the door. My eyes darted to the alarm clock. It read 3:33 pm. She banged on the door demanding I open it. With a smirk, I turned away, grabbed a lightweight hoodie, pulled it on. The key started to turn the knob. “Don’t make me open this door!” Her voice dropped a few octaves.

I paused in the center of the room. “Three…two…” She counted backwards. Sprinting for the open window, I swung my legs over the ledge and jumped, landing feet first straightening my bent knees. By the time she barged in, cursing under her breath, I was quite a distance away and she looked down at me. Neighbors stared as I ran amok across the vast green patches of land, past the high wheat. Slowing to a walk; I pictured myself in a metropolis outside of the small town I resided in. Somewhere I would see new faces every day.

Venturing on, the thud of heavy footsteps reeled me out of thought. I pivoted around only to find the empty rows of wheat and I quickened my pace. Then, that noise intruded upon my thoughts again, and I snapped around, but there was nothing to confirm my paranoia.

My arms pulled up the branches of an eastern cottonwood tree and I adjusted my legs so that my small feet dangled. The phone continued to ring, but I put it on silent. Sun rays flickered across my limbs, bringing out the warm undertones of my copper skin. Squeezing back hot tears, in a low whimper, I cried until I fell asleep.

* * *

Golden streaks of sunlight cast a soft orange glow on my eyelids and they peeled wide open. Sprawled out in the pasture I collapsed in upon encountering the being my heart rate slowed regaining equilibrium. The sweet scent of the various species of plants from the bromeliads, and poinsettias to the hairy gardenia permeated the sticky air. To my left was a secluded wooden cabin.

A pale hand overhead obscured the light. My almond eyes focused on the sculpted lines of the face of a man. The sunlight formed a halo around his head, illuminating his set of cobalt eyes gleaming like the inner flame of a fire. Despite the horror of our first encounter, witnessing him in the light purged my fears.

I accepted his invitation and when our skin met, a sharp current of electricity shot through me and I bucked. Instantaneously, I withdrew my throbbing hand, staring at his palm startled by the sting of his touch. Without a second thought, I closed my eyes, and gripped his hand again. Our fingers interlocked and the pain subsided as I rose to his level.

He stood over a head taller as we faced one another. His golden spirals fell upon his muscled shoulder rippling around his square face, but his eyes were his most striking feature-they were iridescent. We faced one another and I leveled my gaze. My knees weakening and full lips parted.

He pulled me in by the hips, and I rested my head against the curve of his broad shoulder. I placed my palm upon his thorax and listened to his shallow heartbeat as he ran his large fingers through my thick tresses.

“Soon” He whispered rendering me speechless.

* * *

I sprang up in bed, sweating. My blood ran cold, startled by the alarm clock. It was 7:00 a.m. and my hands missed the off button. With an awful ache, and burdened eyelids, I struggled to search for the right switch. The shrill sound grew more irritable by the second, then I located it after almost knocking the clock off the nightstand.

Rubbing my eyes, I took note of my settings befuddled, and noticed a group of freshly picked flowers beside my pillow.

As I got ready, I struggled to recall how I ended in bed when I fell asleep in a tree along with the intricacies of the mysterious man of my dreams.

In the psychology course I took the previous semester I learned that everything in a dream resulted from the subconscious mind. Our minds based people who appeared in dreams off of individuals seen in real life. The drawing I had awakened to in class yesterday must have spawned the dream, but whose profile inspired the drawing?




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