I wake to see his emerald eyes looking back at me. I am in my own bed, for the first time in weeks my surroundings are familiar. Seb smiles, a gesture I return quickly. I can feel his hand in mine, the warmth of his palm is almost as great as the warmth streaming in through the window.
It doesn’t feel like spring, not a hint of chill in the air around us. Memories return like faded dreams, weeks of recovery that my mind tried to ignore are little more than shadows.
I relive the waiting as his strength returned, until finally we were together again. But there was so much tension, so many unsaid words, I wasn’t sure if I could ever truly believe them anyway. What triggered the fighting? I don’t know, it is lost, or hidden maybe. But something made us scream.
Raised voices punctuated with heavy sighs and tears float across my mind. I recall my anger, my rage. But not against him, against what he did. I still love him, though I now realise whose hand pulled that trigger, though I realise how long he’s been lying to me, I still love him. Did I tell him that? I can’t remember. He begged me to forgive him, a lying, addicted murderer. Did I say yes? Or did I let him suffer? I can’t remember, I suppose I must have forgiven him in the end.
I can see a man in glasses, talking to us in a smooth, calming tone that only served to tense me further. Distrust overwhelms all emotion, but slowly the wall breaks down. I feel his arms around me, a sensation that had been all but forgotten, I taste his lips on mine, at last. That memory shines through, casting aside all others and bringing a smile across my barely conscious face. I open my eyes to share my delight with Seb.
His eyes aren’t staring anymore. Where is he? Damn. Where did he go? What did I do? The sheets beside me aren’t even creased and the warmth in my hand is gone. I don’t know what’s real anymore. The air is harsh, the sky is dark, I scramble from my bed, scrabbling through all the drawers. I find no trace of him.
Damn. He can’t have gone, he just can’t. For as long as I can remember he has been there for me but now, I am alone. I suppose I forgave him too late. Or maybe he never truly loved me.
My right hand suddenly bursts with pain; an invisible blade embeds itself in my chest. An unstoppable feeling that I don’t belong here builds within me. Cursing in a language I don’t recognise fills my ears, somehow I understand every word. I feel myself run to the window. Blue eyes look back at me in the reflection of someone I almost know. Tears are running down her face.
She nods slowly and beckons to me.
I feel my hands open the window; my first foot is on the frame. I detach from her, she is not me; she is my prison, getting in the way of freedom. My escape depends on her. Just a few more steps, then she is useless.
I offer her my hand as she leans out of the open window. The blue-haired woman hesitates, she is unsure, so I call to her, telling her to trust me. She reaches out for my arm. A man looks up from below to raise the alarm.
Damn humans. I hate them, won’t they ever stop interfering?
I help the woman climb out of the window, sitting on the frame with her legs unsupported, dangling over the long drop. The crowd try to persuade her to go back inside, but I cover her ears. She is not me. She never has been. This is me; I lead the desperate right to the edge and give them the last nudge towards what they really want.
A heavy hand tries to stop me, it pulls at my fingers, determined that I should let go. I resist, this time, I make the call.
I pull her off balance.
The heavy hand is powerless.