Chapter Five; Where The Dreams Open Its Eyes
1026 Words
WHERE THE DREAM OPENS IT'S EYES
Isabella knew she had had the dream before she could remember. She walked through the school gates clad in it like a second skin--
this time not images, but a weight.
A heaviness behind her eyes.
The aching of her chest that caused mornings to seem unreal, as though she had just awakened a bit dazed by her life.
Her hands appeared to be touching cold metal as she stood beside lockers.
“You look like you didn’t sleep.” The voice of her best friend broke in upon the clatter of passing students, laughter, the squeak of shoe on tile, life running on, as though nothing had happened to interrupt the night.
Isabella turned. “I slept,” she said slowly. “I just… didn’t wake up properly.”
Her friend frowned. “That bad again?”
Isabella shook her head in the affirmative. She had mentioned little earlier about the dreams, the way they lingered behind her, and the forests and voices she heard behind her. But something had changed and she could feel it beating on her heart, in dire need of breathing.
It was more apparent, I replied, remarked Isabella. "Too clear."
The low wall on which they had crossed placed their backpacks at the bottom of the wall.
The clear light above was boring but pleasant through the leafy foliage, unlike the recollection of gleaming eyes in the darkness.
Her friend asked her, “How is that self-evident?
"I saw him," Isabella explained. Her throat clenched. "More than just his face. His eyes were open. And I could hear him speaking. Not the same as previously. "He was familiar with me."
Her friend gave her a close glance. "You're trembling."
Isabella was unaware of it. The hands would be clasped. It no longer felt like a dream. It felt real...
Isabella, you know how that would sound, her buddy said in a low tone.
"I am aware." She let out a breath. "I'm afraid of that."
A darkness passed over them. Isabella stood still in her stare. Elias was a few paces distant. Elias, don't dream. Not shattered, old, and blistered with time. It was a good one. Real. frumpy clothing, closed attitude, and inexplicable face. And as she looked at his eyes her stomach sunk.
The same silver. Now dulled. shut in. yet undistinguished.
Her soul responded sooner than her mind.
She stood too fast.
Then stopped.
Every instinct screamed run.
She sat up, heart racing, and already withdrawing at the sound of his voice, which broke through the intervening air.
"Isabella." She shuddered.
In a confused way her companion looked at the two. "You know him?"
Isabella remained silent. She could not do it. The very sound of her name in his voice, insensitive as it was in daytime, gave her an exposure, like her dreams had bled her without her knowledge. She took one more step away.
Wait," Elias said, and it was even more sharp.
She refused to stop. Not touching her he came near her, near enough so that she felt him, the silent gravity of his presence. Not dangerous. It was also not gentle. Controlled.
I do not need to explain, he said to himself so that she might hear him.
"Not now." Her fingers caught in her pose. Then do not speak to me, breathlessly she said.
I must have your listening, he answered. "Later.".
She turned and glared at him and her horror made her angry. Well, you are not allowed to determine when I will listen.
Something flashed in his face--in some pain, maybe. Maybe recognition. "After school," he stated. It is through the supred path through the trees. Please." Please.
Nothing struck more than the word. He, before she could reply, made a step back retreating, placing a distance between them which he had taken too much by merely being there. Her pal fixed her gaze on him.
She said, "Okay," slowly. You are certainly telling me all now.
AT THE CROSSING
Isabella remained the last part of the day. Lessons merged. The words passed by her, words that are nothing.
Silver, when she shut her eyes, was not glittering, nor hideous, but to look.
Waiting.
When the last bell sounded she did not think. The ancient road-trail was just over the school grounds and it was narrow and forgotten, and trees over-grew it as they probably knew something that people did not know.
She traced it till the sound of the world had died out in the voice of birds and the breeze.
Elias had already shown up. He had turned his back to her, he had his shoulders set, he seemed holding himself up with sheer brute strength. "You came," he remarked.
I did not go to see you, she said. "I came for answers."
He changed direction.
Now she could see and actually see it, without any strain, the weariness in his repose.
The manner in which his eyes repressed something. "The dreams," he added. "They're not at random." They are at a crossroads.
Her throat tightened. "A crossing to what?"
"To me," he explained. "To the curse." Silence was the barrier between them.
But you are not supposed to remember yet, he went on.
"Something changed, however.
"Someone got involved." Her recollection was a flush to the eyes of a boy.
An apparition at the edge of the woods.
Lior, she said, not knowing how she knew.
Elias's body stiffened. "You've seen him."
She made a slow nod. "It is unclear. But I sensed him.
Enough said Elias in a level voice. "He's the fracture."
"What does that make me?" she said.
He next gazed at her so keenly. No hiding is permitted. "The key,"
he added. "Not to terminate it. In order to live through all things to come.
THE CURSE LEARNS FEAR
Lior was sitting in the forest with stone statue which could listen too well with his feet brushing against the moss and murmuring.
It was not fear that made the country shudder but awareness.
The curse had cracked.
The curse not broken.
But it first was terrified.
- Writer
