Brie sat on the lumpy bed smoking the last cigarette of the day, while her furball friend was curled up on her small pillow on the nightstand. The alarmclock flashed 12:00, giving the dim room a red glow.
The last drag reduced me into a coughing fit burning my nostrils. When I looked up, I saw her standing at my window, blowing smoke into the night. Her clothes were dark and torn and dark rings encircled her eyes.
I wanted to talk, but couldn't. She smiled and said she loved my accent, that if she could go half way 'round the world to escape she would. Then, she glided out onto the fire escape, and by the time I gathered my senses again she was no where to be seen.
After that, I decided I'd smoked too much and the nicotine was making me woosey, so I fell into a fitfull sleep filled with nightmares of back home.
In the morning, a little dove was sitting in a cage I kept for Moose. The door was bolted shut and the cage had been dragged across the room to the window.
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Oliver was surrounded with darkness. He could not see the darkness, it just seemed dark because there was nothing around him. Except his bed, or at least the vast infinite ocean of blankets that seemed to be engulfing him every second. It was so incredibly hot, too; his mouth was the only part of his body that could truly take in cool air, because his arms, legs, and torso were on fire. He didn't know where he was and couldn't remember how he got there. For all he knew, in that particular stretch in time, it could have been months ago that he had seen something besides the darkness. That didn't make sense, but then again, the place he was in, whatever it was, didn't quite make sense either. He tried to think, think harder, even harder, but his thoughts seemed like they were in reverse, or at least out of order, and they were both speeding up and slowing down at the same time. He kept experiencing sudden, sporadic sensations of speed, as if he were shooting through the black sky for one moment, and then completely still and alone the next moment, staring into the vast emptiness with wide, open eyes.
Then, Oliver felt something all throughout his body. It was a spine-tingling chill that shot up and down from his neck to his legs for several seconds. He tried looking around, but everything was the same kind of emptiness, so he didn't know where his head or eyes were turning to. Suddenly, he felt a presence beside him, and he didn't feel alone anymore. Although he couldn't see who it was, he realized that it was a little girl who was beside him. She was staring straight at him, and he couldn't move. He immediately felt paralyzed with fear, and he could still feel the burning ocean of blankets all around him. Then she spoke to him and said softly, "Mister, can you please help me?" It was at that moment that he saw a vision of her face, even though he couldn't make out the exact structure of her eyes, nose, or mouth. She was there, though, and at once, he didn't feel scared anymore.
She spoke to him in a calm, delicate way, and he could even hear a slight tremble in her voice. Oliver realized that this girl who he had never seen in his life was not threatening in any way, nor was she trying to be; she was incredibly sad and perhaps a little bit frightened. She said to him, "I don't want to be here anymore. Why can't I just go?" Although he didn't know what she was talking about, Oliver felt a desire to help her and comfort her, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "I know. Me too." He didn't know why he said this; it was as if it wasn't really him who said it, but instead some kind of voice inside of him. Then the girl asked him with tears in her eyes, "Please, can we go? You can come with me. I can show you the birds." He tried to say something back. He tried, but his voice wouldn't work. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. Suddenly the deep chill returned, and he didn't feel the girl's presence anymore. The emptiness soon became filled with dark yellow spots, and he gradually began to see objects appear around him in black and white.
Oliver then realized that he was in his room, and that the ocean of blankets was his bed, and he felt burning hot underneath his covers. As soon as he the spots disappeared from his vision, he found the energy to pull down the covers and sit up in his bed. He reached up with his hand and touched his face, and found that he had broken out in a cold sweat. His forehead was the source of all the flames that seemed to shoot through his body, and he realized that he had a terrible fever, probably one of about 103 degrees, considering the extremely hallucinogenic dream he just had. His whole back and the area of the sheet-covered mattress he slept on was soaking wet, and he felt miserable. Then he heard the door to his room open, and suddenly the darkened room lit up from the hallway light. He looked up to see his wife Susan standing in the doorway. She hadn't changed out of her work clothes, and Oliver guessed she must have gotten home not too long ago. What time is it, he thought? Or rather, what day is it?
"Oliver," she said with a worried look on her face, "Honey, are you alright? You've been asleep for hours, and it's only 9:45 in the evening. You're not sick, are you?" He was still woozy and could hardly speak because his throat stung and felt shredded, but he managed to get out, "Yeah, I'm sick, all right, and I just had the strangest dream. You wouldn't believe---" "Ssshhh, don't try to talk, you've got a really bad fever," she interrupted. "I'll be right back with some medicine for you. You just stay there, all right?" The door closed, and with the image of the little girl still fresh in his mind, he laid back and looked up at the dark ceiling, trying to imagine who she was.
http://neandrathalpie.blogspot.com/2007/02/boring-escapade.html
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