With My Feet Against the Wall

by dreamy delta

Another analytical Jacob story. 'Dad tells me to wash the walls, but I keep the footprints there. They tell me where I've been in my dreams.'

Author's Note: My second installment of the weird!Jacob series. Haha. This actually came from experience, for one night I did wake up with my feet brushing against the wall, and I immeadiately thought of this after. And I kinda love it. Not as impacting as the last, but it's kinda...sticky. It wants to be remembered. And you won't remember it until you read it again. Sorry for that. Also, I post this now because, I graduate today, and nothing is going right at all. Gimme a nice review? Please? I hate begging but I will. Lol. -Delta

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

With My Feet Against the Wall

My feet always brush against the wall when I sleep.

The dirt marks are there, I don't have time for hot showers anymore. The creek suits my needs better.

But the prints of my toes and nails show on the taupe paint.

My fingers trace the wall, and I know why they trace the spackle, all rough beneath my large hand.

I know why my feet rustle against the cool wall in the midst of my dreams.

For I dream of only one thing these days.

I dream of running.

Running like I did those long months ago, running through forests and farmland and mountainous terrain.

I even feel the wet mud caked between the pads of my paws, digging under my claws and drying on my shaggy fur.

But I always awake, human and agitated.

With my feet against the wall.

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