Don closed his heavy eyes and began to dream. He dreamed in that half-conscious state of mind, between being fully awake and dead asleep. He dreamed of getting out, of somehow digging a hole or something, anything. He though about how sweet it would be to feel the sun once more, to roll in the grass and breath in the moving and fresh air. He had forgotten what the warmth of sun rays felt like, and longed to feel them again. He longed for human contact, for real conversation, and for seeing large gatherings of them. To bump into them on the streets and at the market, and to be busy with errands once more. Don missed his family and friends, and the strangers that said hi to him on the streets. He even missed the dirty looks he got when he tried to say hi to strangers. He missed living the life of the common folk, and hated how he had ever complained. But now he knew. He was late, but he knew now.
Don could feel his body slipping off into the dream world. He could feel it in his limbs, that he did not dare move. Sleep was not an easy thing to come by, and he wouldn't mess it up this time. He let his mind slip into sleep, eventually succumbed to it. In his dreams, Karen's face appeared. Her mouth opened, and it looked as though she was talking. Trying to tell him something. Don couldn't hear her, and tried to run to her. But he was never able to get to her. Karen kept trying to tell him something, until finally Don was able to hear her voice. "I'm sorry." She was saying. "I'm sorry too!" Don cried back. But Karen wouldn't stop repeating the words over again.
"I'm sorry you're in here as well." Karen's voice came again, and Don suddenly realized that bit wasn't a dream. She was actually speaking to him, and her voice brought Don's mind back to reality. Back to the cold, back to the gray walls and dirty floors, back to feeling tired and hungry. He frowned, angry and disappointed, but at least she was talking. He turned to his other side so that he could face her, to see that she remained in the same position. Don stared at her for quite some time before saying anything, waiting to regain his senses.
"May I ask how long ago you were brought here? I won't ask what happened if it is too much." Don pressed, feeling lucky. His voice was rough like gravel, sounded just like someone who had just woken up.
"It is too much. Thank you." The girl paused, then continued. "I was put in here three years ago. I was eleven." She spoke as though she had driven the emotion behind the experience away. Don envied her for being able to do this.
"I'm so sorry. You were so young." Don sat up again to show that he was giving her all of his attention. He was no longer angry.
"Can we talk about something different though?" The girl moved her greasy hair behind her ears, which did little to make it look any better. It only served the purpose of getting it out of the way of her face.
"Sure. What would you like to talk about?"
"Anything. Books." Karen decided suddenly. "Do you like to read, Don?" She inquired after a slight pause.
"I haven't done much of it, but I don't mind it. Sure, I like reading." Don decided, watching Karen. She was getting more comfortable with talking to him. This was good; he enjoyed this. "What do you like to read?"
"I had a book my mom gave me as a little girl. It was about the ocean, and it told the story of a young girl who traveled with her father on an exploring expedition." Karen spoke, her voice giving away fond memories of the book. "It felt like I was her, in that boat. With the dolphins swimming and jumping with the boat and me looking down at the map in my hands. The wind in my hair, and the ocean mist on my face." Karen managed a smile, which did not surprise Don but was still unexpected. "I used to imagine I was that little girl, with a life like that." She smiled wide, but suddenly her smile dropped and she closed her eyes. She turned her back to Don, leaning against the bars. "I'm sorry." She whispered, just loudly enough for Don to hear.
"There's not reason to be sorry. Please, keep going." Don urged her, watching her carefully. She did not move.
"You were sleeping and I woke you up. I'm sorry." Karen apologized like a young child would, fearing discipline. Don eyed her, his eyes full of pity for this young girl who had been trapped there for the prime years of her childhood, and probably did not even know what she was missing. Don let the conversation end, not wanting to push the young girl too far. He stretched out once more and turned to his side, away from the girl, and closed his eyes once more. This time, he was allowed to fall asleep without any disturbance. His sleep was void of dreams that night, hollow and unsatisfying.
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment