Imagination (S.M. Preference)
credits to the rightful owner of the gif above
Read the first part here.
Read the second part here.
I keep craving, craving, you don’t know it, but it’s true
Can’t get my mouth to say the words they want to say to you
This is typical of love
Can’t wait anymore, I won’t wait, I need to tell you how I feel when I see us together forever
HE lied there at his bed, wide awake and looking at the ceiling as if Sleep itself didn’t want to come visit him for the night. His room was already eerily quiet for him to find Drowsiness or Exhaustion, but he just couldn’t. Sleep, indeed, came to everyone else except for him; a voice was the only one intervening it from doing so.
The voice kept on repeating on his mind like a broken mixtape that was left neglected. It sounded familiar, yet whenever he tried to decipher whose it was, the sound would instantly diminish into nothingness and that was his cue to act as if everything was as its usual. This routine had been going on for precisely seven weeks - seven weeks and a day in an hour, that was.
Yet, this specific routine wasn’t a daily occurrence hence the last time he heard the same voice calling out to him was two weeks ago; basically, it happened every other week. By the time he heard the mysterious sound again, he had already forgotten that it already occurred a couple of weeks ago.
He sighed deeply before going back on looking for the right position for him to fall asleep with. Though, another minute had passed and his eyes were still open. There, he started to get agitated.
Not being capable of thinking anything he could do, he stood up and walked towards the only window he had in his room. It was the same window he had always looked out to into the outside world. When he twisted the wand tilt to open the blinds - just like he did every morning on a daily basis, ominous darkness greeted him like an old friend. If it wasn’t for dim street lamps, the neighborhood he was looking at through his window would be in utter absence.
He proceeded on observing their front lawn. It was deserted as usual. When the sun shone on it, he knew it’d be a nice view, but once darkness fell on it… As if instantly, he took a step back from his window. He wasn’t sure anymore.
He heard the voice again, much louder than it had ever been. Sure, it scared and creeped him out a bit, but curiosity and familiarity still lingered. He indeed felt like he ought to remember where and when he heard the voice. Though, he couldn’t deny he was also terrified to find out the truth.
Then, an unknown force somehow made him yawn out of nowhere and drowsiness came upon him enthusiastically, which caused him to dive into his bed. There, he fell asleep as he had been anticipating for awhile.
He was drifting into blank space at first before seeing vague white orbs, which soon formed into household figures. He found out he was seeing through someone else’s eyes hence he didn’t remember the scenario at hand. The eyes were looking out to a window that overlooked an empty yard late at night. Though, he couldn’t deny something was tugging at the end of his conscious mind. As if it was getting familiar for every second that passed.
Ennui was starting to take over him at such normality of the scenario, but then a person running on the sidewalk elicited his interest. It was the same one passing by his house every morning at a specific time. Same one he anticipated of seeing after breakfast. Yet, you were running instead of walking. What was wrong, then?
There, he knew it was his own eyes he was looking through in this dream.
His heart rate started increasing every millisecond you ran. A stranger in a black suit who soon followed didn’t help. It was evident the stranger was chasing you. He tried shouting your name, but not a sound came out from his mouth. He was in stark panic then, but he just didn’t had much courage to face the guy on his own. By the time he gathered much courage, he sprinted to his bedroom door and went downstairs to their front door.
He opened the front door the second he got there, but he simultaneously heard your ear-piercing, ominous scream as he did so. The guy was then stabbing you multiple times before stealing your necklace, wallet, and any valuable items you had with you. Everything occurred in a blur, and he was just standing there all along at the door, petrified. He knew he could’ve done something to stop anything from occurring, but his feet were planted firmly on the ground until the robber ran away from your almost lifeless body.
At that point, he wanted to wake up and not witness what would happen next, yet of course, he didn’t had much power to stop this dream. This reminisce. This truth.
He quickly rushed towards you on the sidewalk. At the sight of your predicament, his heart immediately plummet down as he fell on his knees beside you. He didn’t care if he, too, would stain his clothes with blood you were continuing to fight for. Touching your damp cheeks and looking straight into your bright eyes, he lifted your body up for a tender embrace - whispering you words of encouragement to fight. His vision became blurry as tears threatened to slide down his cheeks uncontrollably. Guilt and regret soon invaded him with each sob he emitted as he continued to feel your heavy breathing on his neck slow down. He knew he could’ve done something, but he didn’t choose to do so. He knew… He knew…
Before you ran out of breath, though, you managed to lift your hands up to cup his cheeks and say his name that forever hunted him hence it was the first and the last time he ever heard you say his name. It was a shame he never got to say your name since you left him there on the sidewalk, hanging on the imagination where he would still get to see you pass by his house every morning to school.
It was your death that happened exactly seven weeks and a day ago that devastatingly changed him for the rest of his life.
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