My head felt sore. What had just happened, was it a dream? “Kayla, Kayla, Kayla!” I heard Lissy cry. I blinked; the lights flooded my eyes and hurt like a thousand knives. I shout my eyes close again for a few seconds then tried again with more luck. When the lights finally fell into place again I looked around only to find Lissy’s dark hair in my face – which is impressive concentering how short it is.
“Why are you crying?” I asked carefully. To see her blue eyes filled with tears was like watching an endless dark ocean.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” She shouted and punched my shoulder.
“Ouch! What’s wrong with you?” I asked rubbing the place she had hit me. “Why are you mad? I just fell asleep.”
She looked scared at me with big eyes and said: “Since when did you begin to sleep with open eyes?” I stared. She continued: “But that wasn’t the weirdest part.” Suddenly she looked down.
“What happened?” I asked as I shook her shoulders. “I need to know Lissy.”
“Your eyes lid op like fire.” She said in a low voice. “But not like a normal fire.” She took a deep breath, shook her head and looked straight into my eyes. “It was like the green in your eyes brightened and danced like living flames, green flames. Then you started whispering something in a language I have never heard before. You kept repeating Okklula Moris, Moria. Okklula Moris, Moria.”
“Soul keeper.” I mumbled.
“What?” Lissy asked still looking frightened.
“Nothing, I have to go.” I said slowly, suddenly feeling dizzy. Like in a trance I pushed my jacked over my shoulders and walked out of our little café. The air outside was really cold. I pushed the collar of my jacket up to my ears and started walking. The streets were mostly empty and the few people I saw were all in a hurry to get indoors. I don’t blame them. The air was harsh on my face, but I kept waking towards bus 3 to Rose Hill.
“Good afternoon.” I said politely as I stepped into the bus. The warmth of the bus was almost unbearable after the constant cold, but after a couple of minutes the warmth filled me completely and I doze off.
“Last stop.” Someone yelled through the bus. I most have been sleeping. I looked around slowly, my head hurt like it always does after you have slept at the wrong time of the day. A couple of seconds went by and I heard the same persons voice again: “last stop, you better get off or I’ll just drive you back into town.”
“Yeah, thank you.” I said still in a slow voice. On my legs again I had to almost push myself out of the bus and into the street. “Have a nice evening sir.” I said over the shoulder trying to be polite. Then I heard the doors close and the bus take off.
The night came closer and out here in the cool afternoon the streets seemed so sad and lonely. I couldn’t wait to get away from this place. Away from all those pitiful faces, those faces where you can see they once had a dream far from here. A dream like I have. The only different is that I’m going to make it. I promised myself to get out of here five years ago when my parents got a divorce and my dad moved away. He had loved my mother, but couldn’t live like this. Trapped. He had to get out. Make something. Live his life most of all. I wanted to go with him, but he said I would prevent him from living his dreams, just like mom had. So I got stuck here – like mom. In an endless nightmare, but something tells me that it is soon over, that I will start a new chapter. I just hope it’s far from here.