Dreaming out Loud

He sighed. Yet another great dream had come to an end. Each morning he woke up, he could feel the loneliness inside growing a bit more. The dream had started a few months before, but it had only became more consistent the past couple weeks. It was never the same, save for one detail:the girl.

She always wore a small smile that lured him in. Her brown eyes sparkled when she laughed, and the way she ran her slender fingers through her espresso-coloured hair drove him wild. There was a faint odor of cigarette smoke lingering around her, but he never minded. Mixed with her perfume, it was a beautiful smell. Her glittering pink lips invited him to kiss them, to taste the indescribable flavour of her lip gloss; he didn't for fear of ruining something so perfect.

His oldest brother poked his head into the room. "Oh, you're up."

"Unfortunately."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he sighed.

"Nick, really, you've gotten quieter and quieter lately, and you've been sleeping more. What's going on? Are you depressed?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Fatigue, decrease of enjoying interests, becoming withdrawn into yourself, and change in appetite. . . All signs of depression."

"Yes, Kevin, I'm sure I'm not depressed."

"Mood swings---"

"I'm not having mood swings, and I'm not depressed. Just drop it already."

"Nick---"

"Shut up! I'm fine!"

Kevin stared at Nick for a few moments before sighing. He started to shut the door but stopped halfway. Nick could see the concern in his eyes.

"If you need to talk, we're all here."

I brushed a lock of hair from my face and kneaded the dough. The restaurant was busier than normal; I was having to work at a faster pace than usually was required, just to keep up with the incoming orders, not including the ones customers found nonexistent flaws with and sent back. Suddenly, Patricia, a waitress and my best friend, barrelled through the swinging double doors into the kitchen.

"Be extra careful with this order, Candy."

"I'm always careful. Is it really my fault some customers are never happy?"

"Well, this is for a critic. I'm not sure what kind he is, but Rob says he's very important."

"Yea, whatever."

"Candace!"

"Okay, okay! I'll be extra careful."

"Thank you."

I dragged my feet to the bus stop. Arni was only five minutes late, but I didn't remark on it. I just dropped my token into the box and found a seat. The night-time scenery passed by; I rested my head against the window, sighing. My dad had already gone to bed by the time I unlocked the front door. I merely wanted to sleep., so his not being awake was a blessing. If he had been sitting up in the living room, he would have asked how work had gone. And I didn't need a conversation.

I changed into a pair of plaid flannel pants and a dark blue t-shirt, crawled in between the sheets, and grabbed the pack of Marlboro Reds off my bedside table. My cell phone vibrated beside me on the bed. Trish had texted, saying goodnight. I decided to check my FaceBook and MySpace: There was nothing new. I shut off the light after putting out the cigarette. My clock read quarter after ten, but to me, it felt as if it were two in the morning.