Prologue
Two years.
It had been two agonizingly long years since he slept well. He wanted to tell everyone about the girl who had returned just in time to save him, but she had already left. She vanished from his life two years ago, disappearing like a bubble in the air with no trace of her existence.
When hearing him talk about an allegedly fictional female, his companions can only scoff. If he was allowed the chance to sleep during those two years, all of his nightmares were the same and would repeatedly play in an agonizing loop within his head. Like an artwork that only manifests when he shuts his eyes, existing in the recesses of his imagination. No one was interested in listening to him, so many of his friends suggested he consult a shrink.
That bothered him.
However, he went to one to show them that he wasn't hallucinating and has been returning ever since, hoping and anticipating that someone will finally hear him.
That day he went. He sat in the chair across from the psychologist who was holding a pad in his left hand and a pen in his right, loudly clicking it whenever he spoke. He was tapping the bottoms of his shoes on the floor while fidgeting with his icy, sweaty fingers.
She was there. When I touched her chest, she briefly shone before disappearing..."
Kane continues, openly discussing his final moment with the girl and replaying the scene in his mind, "The one last thing she told me is it's time for her to go home, which may be in the future, I assume."
The shrink was drawing his brows near, observing his “symptoms” rather than listening to what he was saying.
An exhausted sigh fell over his lips. He rests his arms on the armrest and leans forward in frustration, later putting his face in his hands.
“You don’t believe me, do you? You’re just like my friends who think I’m delusional?”
The shrink drew his lips in a thin line and cleared his throat as a preparation to speak.
“Unfortunately, your symptoms are consistent with the diagnosis. But don’t worry about it. With constant therapy and not missing your prescriptions, you’re all good in a matter of time.” He ticks his pen one last time before placing it on the hardcover of his pad before shaking his hand to reveal his watch, checking the time and clearing his throat.
“Well, that’s gonna be it for today. I’m really sorry that you have to get through this. You have a lot of projects coming through and I don’t believe this is going to be the end of the line for you. Just follow up with your routine and you’re gonna be all good.”
Kane was pretty much-losing hope. He no longer expected anyone to listen.
With a heavy heart, he nods his head and dismisses himself, leaving the clinic.
As he stepped outside, the light touched his skin, and he couldn't help but stare up at the clear sky in the hopes that the girl—or anybody else for that matter—might have been listening.
A rush of wind blasted by his face as he squinted and scrunched his nose to block off the sun, and the coolness of it somehow relieved the stress he was keeping in. He closed his eyes and whispered along to the wind, “How do I get to you?”
