Sleepwalking Past Hope

I smiled to myself as I watched the small bird, perched on the window sill, cock it’s head in the most inquisitive way. I turned my head to the side and watched it peek shamelessly into my room. The orange light from the street light made the bird look brown but in daylight it was white and grey with a black cap on it’s tiny head. Every night, right about this time I could find it perched in the same place peeking into my room. I decided that next time I went to the store I was getting a birdfeeder so maybe it would say longer. It was the dead of winter and I worried everyday that something would happen to the sweet little creature.

I smiled at the little bird, I bent down and tapped the window in front of it. The bird cocked it’s head again.

“Hello little guy, I’m sorry but I have to close the blinds.” I apologized before pulling the string which released a long string of wooden slats that covered the window.

The warm light from the lamp lit the room in a romantic way. I unbuttoned the long-sleeve plaid shirt I wore and let it drop to the floor. I went to the closet, grabbed an oversized night shirt and pulled it over my head. I replaced my jeans with plaid pajama bottoms and at last I was relaxed.

I went downstairs and into the living room. There sat a large stack of manila folders on the leather couch. Dr. Petrey made me responsible for grading his students’ work. My parents are accountable for my relationship with Dr. Petrey, he was actually a professor but preferred to be called Doctor. Calling him otherwise would result in punishment by essay, if you were a student that is. When I moved here from America, four years ago, I had this house, the job with Petrey, and a language class waiting for me. I learned how to speak Finnish from both the class and Dr. Petrey.

I began reading the papers, one by one, I marked misspelled words, incorrect punctuation and run-on sentences. Petrey said I had an eye for run-on sentences. Three hours later I was finished. My eyes itched from fatigue; maybe tonight I would be able to sleep. I restacked the folders and yawned. I stretched and got up from the couch.

I made my way upstairs. My bedroom was one of my favorite places in this house. The red walls made the room warm, paired with the lighting it made it the perfect place to relax. I pulled open the blinds to see if the bird was still there, sure enough, he was gone. I frowned and closed the blinds.

I turned the television on, threw back the white quilt and climbed into the bed. I didn’t want to sleep alone, I hated it more than anything. I relaxed in the bed, my mind became engulfed in a pointless show. Sleep soon consumed me.

I sat up in the bed, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and yawned.

“Good morning.” The familiar voice that had come to plague my dreams said. He was leaned against the door frame. He wore a white t-shirt which exposed his tattooed arms.

“Good morning?” I replied, unsure.

He laughed, “Don’t be scared.” He said as he approached the bed and sat on the edge.

“Why not? I don’t know you.” I said as I pulled my knees to my chest.

“You used too.” He whispered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He said, his mood receded into sad and it pained me to see his angelic face anything but happy. He reached over and took my hand in his and kissed the back of it. I smiled bashfully.

I snapped awake, unlike all the other dreams this time I felt empty. I felt like a part of me was gone. The image of him smiling was burnt into the back of my mind. I embraced the image and let it lull me to sleep.

I wanted more than anything to meet this man or put these haunting dreams to rest. Though I enjoyed them they made me realize exactly how alone I was. There was hope for me and it resided in him, I wasn’t exactly sure how I relied so much on a person I wasn’t even sure was real, but I did.