Shadows of the World

"Hey Clio, I heard about what happened in Study Hall...sorry to hear that you had such a bad dream! Everyone was talking about how you were screaming and crying and that you wouldn't wake up. Hopefully it wasn't too scary, but you know I'm always here for you. I know you're probably taking a nap or something, but I hope you're feeling better, I've been hearing that you looked pretty terrible. Make sure you rest up and don't drink any warm milk before you go to sleep tonight! Love you!" Helena's voice rang from my voice mail box as I listened to it at 2:25 pm. I'd just awoken from a light nap, one that had thankfully been dreamless, and had just missed her call. School was over by now, and all my friends were probably out doing something. All of them, except me...who was at home, because of a scary dream.

When I'd got home two and a half hours earlier, I'd arrived to an empty house. I'd called my mom quickly and let her know what was up- she told me to rest and drink some of the lavender tea she kept around. I did rest but decided to forego the tea, it didn't sound all that appealing to me. But before I'd fallen asleep, I'd decided to write down all my dreams. It had been surprising to me how quickly they came back, and how nice it was to get them out of my head. It was almost like the sea of my brain was spilling out a mess of jumbled words onto lined paper, and it had been my hands job to put it all back together. But once I'd started writing down what had happened and how I'd felt, everything seemed to flow.

After I listened to my voicemail, I picked up the notebook that lay next to my bed and read through my dreams again. The fact that they were so real and that they still painted such vivid images in my head chilled me, and I put them away after only getting through the first two. I couldn't handle the other one. It was such a mess of happiness and fear and urgency that I just didn't know where to start. My hands might be able to figure out the mess that was in my head, but my emotions couldn't sort through the tangles that were in my heart. It was one big mystery.

I got out of bed, rubbing my eyes, feeling more tired than I had when I'd went to sleep, something that always happened to me after I took a nap. It occured to me that it was strange that I'd had a dream during a short nap in Study Hall but had managed to sleep light enough to not dream now. I paced around my room for a few moments, trying to collect my bearings and then headed downstairs for a Diet Coke. My mom still wasn't home and my dad wouldn't be home until six or seven tonight. I didn't feel sick or upset any longer, and even felt trapped within my own house. I got my soda out of the fridge and then opened one of the drawers in my kitchen, grabbing at the Student Directory. I'd never used it before, but it gave the telephone numbers and addresses of all the students in our school. A little creepy, if you asked me, but hey, they obviously didn't.

I flipped through the pages, trying to make believe that I wasn't looking for Carson. I kept telling myself that I was just looking through, looking for students, but my eyes rested on Carson's name. Carson Knight. His phone number wasn't that important, besides the fact that it wasn't even there. The address to his house was though. And I found myself looking at the address and thinking about the fact that it was not far away from my house. And then for some reason, I felt myself picking up a jacket and heading outside. Was I really walking over to Carson Knight's house? Well, my feet apparently thought I was.

I looked at the scenery around me as I watched and realized how much I'd missed since I started driving a car. Before then, I used to actually walk places, especially with my friends. We had our parents to drive us around a lot, but we used to walk a lot more than we did now. It made me think about the fact that now, I never seemed to get a lot of fresh air. It was really nice out, actually, for the end of September. I looked at the trees around me, looking at how some of them were already changing colors. I guessed I'd never thought about how cool it was to live in a place where there actually was all four seasons. We definitively had fall, winter, spring and summer. Winter was just too long and summer was always way too short.

It was nice though, just listening to the clop of my shoes against the sidewalk as I meandered along the roads. Cars occasionally would drive by me, and even though sometimes it would people that I knew from school, I never really waved. I tried to tell myself that this was just a walk, just a wander, but with each step, I got closer and closer to Carson Knight's house, with still no idea of what I'd do or say when I got there.

Listen, Carson, I could start. I've been having some really weird dreams about you lately...they're all very uh, romantic and a little bit risque. And then I had a dream about James Blanchard, before I knew he existed. I was just wondering if you could tell me what's going on? Yeah, right. He'd look at me like I was insane. I didn't even know why I was doing this. Carson Knight didn't control what I dreamt, Carson didn't have anything to do with me. I was just pulling at straws.

But there was no mistake of the fact that I was getting closer and I wasn't planning on turning around. A light wind blew at my side, scattering some of the yellowing leaves that couldn't hold on any longer. I watched them carefully and stopped walking. Harder gusts blew, letting the leaves just rush off along the sidewalk, down the road and out of sight. I closed my eyes and tried to make myself feel as light as possible. What would happen if I just let myself be carried off by the wind? Up off the sidewalk, through the air, down the road, away, away...gone. I would just not exist anymore...at least, I wouldn't exist here.

Snapping my eyes quickly, I started going again. What was scary was not the fact that I was even thinking those depressing thoughts, but the fact that it was so tempting to just let myself float away to a place where I didn't even need to feel anymore. But...I didn't even know where that was. Lately, I'd been feeling too much. Lately, I'd been overwhelmed by emotions. My dreams made me feel like I was spiraling in and out of control, from a place where I was too happy to a place where I was too scared to a place where none of that, not even the happiness, was real.

Hey Carson, I know we don't know each other, but I was thinking I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Clio. I've been having dreams about you lately, and I just wanted to say hi, just to get it off my chest. I hope you don't think I'm too weird, I just want to say hi. Just so I can get all of this out of my way. Who knew how he'd react to that one. I tried to imagine what I'd do if someone just said that to me. What could he say? Nothing really. Hi, probably. Maybe if I just said that I'd been dreaming about him and it had been throwing me all off course, that would make me feel better. Maybe if I just let it go, I could return to my normal life.

But what if I couldn't? What if the dreams continued, even when I tried to leave them behind? What if they just caught back up to me and I imagined Carson and I...well...I didn't know. His skin was smooth as he took my own hand. Lying side by side, my lips covering his own. Our entwined fingers. It was not just that he was holding my hand, it was not just that we were connected. It was that our fingers tangled within the other's and we became some kind of single being. It was more than a connection, it was more than...

What was it? What was how I felt? It just couldn't be a crush, I didn't know him. It couldn't be obsession, because he'd seemed so enthralled with me, too. I sped up my pace just a little bit more when a tiny word crept into the back of my head. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. I knew know thing about him. I didn't know what he was like, I didn't know what he wanted, what he didn't want, I didn't know his secrets. It couldn't be that. There was no way, absolutely no way that three silly, stupid, ridiculous dreams could even bring up the question of that four letter word starting with an "L".

I pushed it out of my head with a shake. I couldn't even being to fathom it. And so I didn't let it invade my head, because I knew if I just thought about it, I would become obsessed and more and more interested and everything would revolve around that one little word, that stupid feeling, that idiotic idea. So I just exhaled deeply, letting that word, that emotion, drain out of me. But I already knew the seed had been planted in my head. All I had to do was nurture the tiny little seed and it would soon bloom into a flower. A disgusting weed that I couldn't and wouldn't let run my life. Never.

His house was becoming nearer. His number was 154 and I was now at 106. I looked at the different houses on this street. They looked relatively similar, as if they'd all been built at the same time. However, as I went farther and farther down the road, the houses grew more and more apart and there was more and more wild grass growing between the houses. When I finally arrived at 152, I realized that there was not another house next to it, but the road kept going, turning into a dirt road. I stood at a standstill, wondering if I should continue. I'd look like such a weirdo if I kept going, but if I didn't, I'd never know what lay at the end of the road. On my left sat a long, bright, gold field. The tall grass was sun-drenched and happy looking in the afternoon light and it gave me my answer. My feet started moving again and I kept going, zipping up my jacket around my shoulders. The only noises I could hear now were the crunch of my shoes on the dirt and the chirping of the cicadas in the field.

It was actually very peaceful and quite calming. I took in a deep breath and realized it must be pretty nice to live here. The road wound around and went through a patch of trees, and when I came out on the other side, I saw a large white farmbuilding with a weathervane on top and a red brick chimney. It was, in a word, picturesque. I found myself smiling in spite of the nerves that had been growing in the pit of my stomach. Involunatrily, I imagined Carson as a child, playing in the field, coming in after a long day for dinner in his family's kitchen. The tiny seed that was planted in my head and heart threatened to open up to expose a root. I frowned, shaking the throught out of my head marched diligently on to his house.

I didn't even hesitate to knock on the door. There was no doorbell. Nobody answered. I looked at the doorframe. The number "154" was there in large black numbers. This was definitely his house. I looked in the driveway next to it. There was a car there, and I actually recognized it as the car that Carson drove. He had to be here. I knocked again, however, my confidence was already wavering and I was ready to bolt back and run all the way home.

Just as I was poised to knock a third time (the last time, I promised myself), I saw something come from behind the house. Up in the air, coming from around the house, flew a hundred butterflies. I stopped in mid-knock, staring at the insects as they flew higher into the sky. Then, one by one, they dissapeared. I literally rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things. No, this was what had happened earlier today. More butterflies.

My heartrate rising, I crept off the front porch and tiptoed down the side of the house. I could feel my pulse in my arms and my throat and my heart and my head. Everything was thumping so loudly, I was surprised I didn't surprise whoever was around there. Finally I came to the corner and peeked around, feeling almost like I was going to faint.

In the backyard lay Carson. He was beautiful in the afternoon sun, his hair glowing a fiery red. A dazzling smile lit up his mouth and he looked almost like he was glinting, like gold. He picked up a handful of the tall grass that he lay in and looked at it with a wonderous smile. He closed his eyes, put his lips to the grass and blew. I watched, open-mouthed as it transformed into butterflies, flitting around him for a moment and then flying high up into the sky. And then I watched as they blinked away, one by one. Carson sighed and picked up another handful, and I was ready to watch again, but felt myself lose my footing just a little bit. I didn't stumble, only moved, but it was enough.

Carson saw the flash of movement and looked directly at me. Our eyes met only for the briefest of moments, only enough time so I could see the surprise in his own eyes, before I turned around and felt myself bolt back, run away, down the road, back to my house, back to normality, back to reality, back to a place where a beautiful boy hadn't just transformed simple grass into dazzling butterflies.