The grains of sand slipped through my fingers, sprinkling to the ground. The sun, high above me, hung like a lantern burning, scorching everything below it. This dune stood taller than the rest and I could see the tops of the mounds of sand stretching endlessly beyond the blurred horizon.
My knees, sunk deeply into the sand, burned as a fire though not as intensely as the flames that licked at my parched throat. It had been days – how many days I could not be sure – since I had drunk water or eaten food. I had been wandering for far too long.
I realise now what a foolish thing it was to run away in the desert. But I couldn't stay there any longer. I had reached my breaking point. I'd probably die here in the middle of nowhere, my body would never be discovered and I would die before seeing someone who didn't want to hurt me, I'd never see a kind face. Death was preferable to that place.
The days were long and hot, the nights short and freezing. There were no trees for shade, no bushes or shrubs, there was nothing; just emptiness and sand, so much damn sand. It burnt me, irritated me, rubbed at my skin peeling it raw, it crunched in my mouth and crusted over my eyelids.
I breathed in the stuffy, humid air. My throat rattled, my body shook. I grabbed at my neck, raking my fingers down it desperately. There was no air in my lungs and my gasps were inaudible. Heaving, I struggled to my feet and stumbled, tumbling down the dune. Golden sand rained down on me.
Lovely, wonderful air filled my lungs and I didn't even mind the grains of sand that accompanied it. The great expanse of sand shimmered. My breaths were shorter now and more ragged. I shook the sand off me. It wouldn't be long but I didn't mind. Freedom was worth dying for.
The sand swirled around me. I squinted and shielded my eyes with my hands. The sudden wind whipped at me for a few seconds and then, just as swiftly as it appeared, it was gone. Cautiously I dropped my hands. I blinked, my dried skin struggling with the action.
It was impossible. My eyes were lying. I was seeing things that cannot be there. I had gone insane. It was a heat driven mirage. Or maybe I had died. In those moments where no oxygen filled my lungs, did I die then?
The figure, tall and marvellous, stood motionlessly above me. The sand sparkled behind him casting a shadow on his porcelain face. His simmering aqua-marine eyes were framed with starch blackness that was not a part of the shadow.
The gust had died down and turned into a slight breeze which brushed the figure's messy flame red hair to the side and his mahogany robe fluttered and split at his hips revealing his loose grey-black pants. A large gourd was strapped to his back and it broke his strong masculine outline. A silver vest covered his chest and it gleamed for a moment as the reflected light caught it.
I laughed but it turned into a cough, choking me. The edges of the figure were blurred and I knew it was a hallucination that my subconscious had dreamed up. I was glad though, hallucination or not, at least I wouldn't die alone in this vast ocean of death.
"Shh," the figure murmured above me. I could feel his shadow fall over me, offering a little relief from the sun's rays. A cool hand brushed over my cheek and I gasped. My eyes shot up to meet the cold calculating orbs of my very real seeming dream.
He had a scar in shape of the kanji symbol for 'love' and it was a shade of deeper red than his hair He knelt down next to me. The musty scent of sandalwood spilt over me from his movement. It was pleasantly earthy. I swallowed uselessly. "Don't worry," his voice was deep and rich. It sent chills down my spine.
I opened my mouth and when nothing cam out I closed it again. I could feel his warm musky breath on my face. "You're so beautiful," I whispered.
My hallucination blinked and tilted his head, moving backwards, as if surprised and my words sunk in. I was sure that under normal circumstances my cheeks would have flushed pink. These were not normal circumstances though and it would be silly to blush because of someone who is not really there.
He stared at me for what seemed like forever and then his smooth hand pressed against my forehead. My eyes slid closed. The coolness of it was enough to make me sigh.
"You need food and water," he said. The coolness faded and instinctively my hand snapped forward, my fingers snapping around his wrist. I blinked open my eyes. He was looking at me in the same way he had when I called him beautiful. I wondered what he was thinking. It was silly of me, hallucinations don't think. I released my hold.
"There's an oasis near by," he spoke slowly. Great, even my own imaginary friend thinks I'm crazy. "I'll take you there, okay?"
An oasis? Yeah, he thinks I'm crazy and stupid. Well, if I'm going to die why not play along with this fantasy beforehand? "Okay."
He nodded once, his spiky red hair fluttering. His ivory hands wrapped around me slowly and he scooped me up. My head rested against his chest and I could hear his steady heartbeat, my own heart was shaking all over the place. Shyly I wrapped my arms around his neck.
His pastel eyes flickered down to me but he didn't say anything. Then the world was shifting and the wind pushed me more firmly into his chest. He was moving so fast that everything was a blur of brown. I tucked my head into the red-head's chest trying to fight the dizziness.
He stopped abruptly and my head spun as I adjusted. We were in the cool shade of a palm tree that was overhanging the sparkling water of a small pristine pond. The shining golden yellow sand arched downwards and met the wet and beautiful water. My throat and stomach ached with longing.
My hands clenched, coarse fabric rustled in my hand. Those beautiful eyes met mine as I looked up. He lowered me slowly and when my feet touched the ground I stumbled. His pale hand wrapped around my waist to steady me. My hand drifted to his without any concious thought. I trembled as my small hand fell on his larger, white one. It was cool and soft and I smiled.
I gazed up at him and he looked down, his brilliant hair waving just above his clouded eyes. "You should cool down, have a drink," his thick voice hung in the air. I nodded, almost reluctant to leave his side. It wasn't real, so why waste my last moments drinking imaginary water when I could be with this kind, beautiful person? But I felt compelled to follow his wishes, to please him.
I fell to my knees at the edge of the pond, my hands dipped into the lukewarm water and I splashed it on my face. I felt cool instantly. The water dripped down onto my lips. I scooped up the water and drunk deeply. I drunk and I drunk and I drunk and then I was choking.
I felt arms wrap around me and as the choking subsided I turned into his chest. His scent filled my senses and I breathed it in. My body still ached, but I was happy. The water was too real to be fake. I was really alive and I had been saved by this handsome stranger. A tear leaked from my eye and I sniffed.
"Shh," he murmured softly. He carried me to the palm tree and sat with me on his lap. I ate his food and drunk his water and smiled. Time passed but I hardly noticed. My belly was full and I was alive. My eyes fluttered closed and I lay in the shade of the palm tree.
I felt him move above me and there was a soft pressure on my lips. As he kissed me his hand brushed my hair behind my ear and traced me jaw lightly. His other hand rested on my waist. I sighed into the kiss and the world faded slowly.
It was cooler now, the sun would be melting away. I opened my eyes and looked around. He was gone. The water sloshed to my side. I stood up and surveyed my surroundings. Footsteps led to the oasis, my footsteps. There was a structure on the horizon, something man made, possibly buildings.
I had made it to the oasis, I was alive and I would survive long enough to make it to people. I would have my freedom like I had always dreamed. I had thought I would be happy when I was free but that was not how I felt. The stranger, my saviour, was nowhere to be seen. I had walked here, I had no been carried. The happiness I that had with him was not real.
He had been a mirage.