Alone.

22

There's nothing better than the feeling of floating. Weightless in warmth. Comforter-out-of-the-dryer warmth. The warmth of a strong hand against my face, running through my hair. If only life could be like this...forever.

I could do forever here, in the basement of Eric's house. All walls. No windows. I look around, everyone was here with me.

Dani–her personality filled with all the seasons.
Eric–a sleeve of beautiful tattoos that frightens the normal and entices the free.
Kile–his hair hiding his eyes, keeping the world from seeing his soul.
Michelle–her eye-linear, rimmed around her eyes to scare those who get too close.
Me–the poet in my mind when I'm high.

I came to this house to belong. They came for fun and safety. We stayed because we were stray pieces of other puzzles, tired of never fitting. But right now, we're above the world. We are free. Just for a little while.

"I wore ribbons," Dani says. "Lots of them."

"I love it when she does this." Eric says to me.

The five of us relax on the floor. Finishing off a beer, Kile sits farthest from us with his back propped against the wall. The rest of us spread around the room, laying on our backs. Michelle is humming to herself and occasionally waving her arms in the air. Surprisingly enough, Dani is quiet most of the time but says the most random things when she does. Eric and I touch. I apparently only like being touched or touching others when I'm high. We do because it doesn't count then. Nothing counts when you feel weightless.

"I used to wear ribbons too," I say replying to Dani. My own voice sounds bizarre. Echoing. Far away. And I speak again so I can hear the strangeness. "In my hair."

Eric runs his hand through my hair again. The gentle tug urges me to close my eyes and sleep forever. Bliss. This is bliss.

"What colours?" The normal rough edges of Eric's tone disappear, leaving smooth deepness.

"Pink." Dani and I say in unison. This makes us giggle.

We don't stop. We can't. It's just too funny. After what felt like hours and my stomach can't take anymore, we do stop. Just to laugh one more time.

"And?" Eric says over our laughing.

"Dresses!" Dani chimes.

"I loved dresses," I say.

It feels as if I'm turning my head through sand in order to look at them. Dani looks beautiful of course. She always does. Secretly I get jealous. I love how her hair falls perfectly around her face. I love how her eyes sparkle from the florescent lights on the ceiling.

"You're beautiful Dani!" I say speaking my mind. She smiles and says the same to me but I don't believe her. I don't believe anyone who says so.

I look at Eric. I love his dark hair, shaved close to his scalp. I love his kind brown eyes. I love...that he's hot. Hot when he's sober. Tragically hot when he's high. I should write that down.

"Do you want a dress, Mattie?" Eric asks.

"Would you buy me one?" I don't know why, but the thought lightens my heart. The teeny sober part of my brain reminds me I don't wear dresses, that I spurned ribbons. The rest of my mind, lost in a haze of pot, enjoys the game–the prospect of a life with dresses and ribbons and someone willing to make my wildest dreams come true.

"Maybe." Eric says winking at me.

The muscles around my mouth become heavy and the rest of my body, including my heart, follows suit. No. I'm not ready for the comedown. I close my eyes, willing the buzz to go away.

"Bake, bake, bake, bake." Dani sings

"That's a wonderful song Dani!" Eric says excitedly. "We should all sing it together. And a one, and a two, and a."–

I stopped listening. I try to move to get more comfortable, but it doesn't work too well in sand. So I just close my eyes.
♠ ♠ ♠
HEHEHEHEHE!!!
I can't lie, I really enjoyed writing
this chapter. I don't know why…
I JUST DID OTAY? :)
But as a writer, I hope you
enjoyed reading.