Chapter 4: Dreams
Ch 4 - Dreams
A muddled dream, senses messed up. She wants to wake up but it never works.
There's a pufferfish, it duplicates. There's something odd about it. There's something wrong.
She's watching with horror as the tank in front of her overflows with water, her body frozen solid. There's two fishes in front of her, swimming as water rushes out like a dam broken open after a hurricane.
One puffs up, spikes all over it's body and she finally reacts.
She bolts from her spot, towards the door somehow before the water reaches it.
Whipping it open, she swings it shut and locks it.
She panting, sweat dripping from her forehead and she's about 90% sure the hand holding the door is trembling.
What's so scary? The rational part of her brain asks her but she can't seem to hear it. It was like watching a movie through someone's eyes. She could do nothing but watch as she did things against her will.
"------" She's calling someone, stumbling as she runs and trembles and oh god, she's scared.
A familiar face pops up in front of her, and she crashes right into him.
"What's wrong?" He asks, and god he's so warm and I was so cold.
"-------" She's stuttering, putting her hands on his shoulder to chase the warmth that she felt.
Cold. Why is it so cold?
She sighs in relief as the warmth returns to her hand, warming up her body. But then it disappears.
She frowns. Where?
And perhaps she didn't notice the man moving away, a slight frown on his face, a crinkle in his brow, lips pressed into a straight line.
Or perhaps she just didn't want to care.
She moves forward again, stumbling and stuttering and her conscious can barely stand to watch her do it.
She sees him back away for a second time and realises it now. He doesn't want to touch me.
And she sobbing and crying and scared and she really doesn't know what to do anymore.
I'm so cold.
And maybe it wasn't the cold making her heart ache so.
And maybe she wasn't as strong as she thought herself to be.
She falls onto the ground, hugging her knees and relishing in the warmth of her own physical contact.
Because that's all she'll ever get, isn't it?
"I don't want to hug you, I just-"
She's pauses. Just what?
Want human warmth? Physical contact to ground yourself?
She can't exactly say that. She'll be weak if she admits anything else.
And she look enough of a mess already.
So she doesn't say anything. She snaps her mouth shut and buries her head into her arms and lets the tears fall silently as she tries her very best to keep the sensation of another's warmth in her hands.
Until the last pricks as thin as needles of them finally fades.
"It's fine,"
"It's nothing." Her voice cracked.
And as she said that, it was as if a little piece of her cracked too.
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