Hokeo

The stars twinkled and sparkled brightly against the dark canvas of the night sky. A soft, cool breeze blew, stirring up the air and carrying with it the salty smell of the sea. . A young woman sat in the middle of a mesh hammock, staring up at the stars, reveling in their beauty and savoring the smell of salt on the air. She loved to watch the stars. She watched them every night, from the same hammock.

It was the only thing that brought her happiness.

She shifted her weight back slightly, her long, tan legs swinging backward underneath the hammock, then leaned forward, pushing her legs out in front. The hammock began to swing gently, and she continued to move her legs forward, and back, forward, and back enjoying the rocking motion beneath her and the way it made the sky move as she studied it. With each swing backward, the stars seemed to rush forward, as if they were trying to escape her view. And with each forward swing of the hammock, they seemed to rush backward, as if she were chasing them and they had stopped abruptly, causing her to rush ahead. She smiled at the thought.

Her legs began to get tired and the mesh weaving of the hammock began to rub uncomfortably against the back of her thighs as she moved. So she flopped backward onto the hammock, letting her legs fall limp over the edge. Her long, straight, black hair fell across part of her face. The hammock continued to rock at its own slow pace, the residual motion propelling it forward and back. The girl sighed contentedly and brought both arms behind her head, looking up at the stars from this new, black shrouded perspective.

The strands of hair in front of her face changed the picture before her immensely. It was as if she were looking up at the stars through a swatch of thin fabric, like mesh or lace. Each star was marred and distorted by several thin, black strands running through it, breaking it up into sections. They weren't so beautiful, anymore. They didn't make her feel happy.

They were disjointed. Broken. Like her life. Like her heart.

From inside her chest, her heart skipped a beat. Her lungs began to feel constricted, and she could feel her chest rise and fall rapidly. A feeling of helplessness washed over her and she rolled onto her right side, balling her hand into a fist and pounding against the middle of her chest. It was the only thing she knew to do.

With a gasp, her lungs released their contraction. Her nostrils burned as the sucked in the air around them greedily. She coughed once and shuddered, trying to forget the all-too-familiar experience.

The attacks didn't happen so often anymore. They used to happen almost everyday, right after it happened. But thanks to the wonderful counselor she had been forced to see since it had happened, they had decreased in frequency and severity.

She wished they didn't have to happen at all.

"Just focus on feeling the emotion when the attacks come. The attacks stem from suppressing the emotions, not the emotions themselves." She played the counselor's words over in her mind now, as she regained control of her body.

With a sigh, she pushed herself back onto her back, her hair moving to shroud her face once more. She reached up and let her fingers curl around the strands, feeling each one against the skin of her fingers, concentrating on the sensation of the fibers against the skin before pulling them away from her face.

If only it were so easy to feel obscure things. She sighed as she looked at the stars, now returned to their normal, pure, unbroken state. She folded her hands, clasping them at her stomach, feeling the softness the old, over-sized cotton t-shirt she wore. Sensations that are physical, those are the easy things to feel. To focus on feeling. But emotions... How can you focus on feeling something that may not even be there?

She tried to lay still and let the quiet of the night engulf her once more. She closed her eyes and concentrated on listening to the waves whoosh and crash slowly against the shore-line that lay only a few yards from where she lay. She felt her body begin to attune itself to the soothing motion. Her breathing began to match the flowing of the water. Her heart began to slow considerably. Her mind ceased its spinning and began to shut-down.

She felt herself begin to float away...

And she didn't mind.
Floating away was better than remaining here.