I don't sleep much anymore.
Twisted staircases, shards of glass, innumerable shadows that consume me whole; these dreams I had of drowning in my subconscious. Every time I replayed it, the choices I made and the paths I took all led to the same fate – smothered in the darkness, gasping for breath, fighting for my mind in the night. I don't intend to sound depressive, desperate for attention, or to give the impression that this is an extension of the truth. It simply was this real to me. I felt my body tumble as wave after wave hit the shore, the golden beaches that should glow turned icy-cold. I felt the warmth of the setting sun on my face along with the cool breeze of evening blowing through my sleeves. I felt it all. And when it all faded away and I found myself lying in bed, the lights switched on and the blurry image of my mother yelling back at me, I felt so ashamed.
They were just nightmares, after all.
Where as children we would play had become our usual haunt, spending endless summer days on shining shores and in treehouses that had long outgrown their trees. The younger children looked up to me, to the others, sparring amongst one another in an effort to reign supreme. Everyone trying to best everyone, and every now and then this means war breaks out. It's kinda cute, the way they took it so seriously. Filled with Pipe dreams of fantastic battles, they played with wooden swords and skipping rope until the last remnants of sunlight slipped out of sight. And we three would sit on the beach, watching over them, protecting them, a generation apart.
There had been a time when we ourselves had been just like them, young and unabashedly hopeful, laughing and playing, competing against one another in silly fights and races. Nowadays, we barely see, let alone talk to, one another. Every now and then my mother would ask me the age old question of, "Whatever happened to ol' so and so? Oh isn't it such a shame you drifted apart..." In the late nights, in nameless bars with smoky pool tables and gruff bartenders, he would sometimes walk up and order a drink, glancing at me and momentarily holding his stare. Then with a slight nod he'd draw his attention to the drink in hand and scull it, all at once, the ice chinking against the side of the glass. And that would be it; he'd disappear into the darkened masses that surround that town, only to resurface a couple months, or a couple of years later.
But hey, I'm skipping ahead of myself. I haven't even done the introductions yet.
So my name is Sora, which I've been told means sky, or something like it. My mother was always one to have her head in the clouds, so I guess it makes sense. I was 14 when it all went down, an age far too young to have to deal with something like this. Then there was Riku. Now he was 15, and even though it was only a year's difference, he reigned over us all. He was faster, stronger, an enigma to most, a mystery to us, always so calm and controlled. I was so jealous of him, and in retrospect, that was probably what made things so much worse. And last was Kai. With her flowing red hair, she was beautiful. A ruby glistening in the sun, she knew just how pretty she was. She held such sway over Riku and I, along with all of the other islanders, caught under her spell. Foolishly, as only a 14 year-old could be, I thought I was in love with her once. It's been a long time since I've seen her, and if I did, I don't know what I would say. I don't think words could do me justice. Some things just can't be said.
So this is my tale, I hope you enjoy watching it stretch and snap back into place. It's not pretty and perfect, and it isn't supposed to be, because I'm not pretty and I damn well not perfect. I'm not seeking redemption or recognition, but to warn others of what they can become. The nightmares of childhood's past, strange men smelling of alcohol in the early hours, the broken man waiting for a seat at a train station where trains never leave, the lonely good-for-nothing bum telling his story as though someone might care.
It started with a raft.
A/N: So... I haven't been here in *literally* years. Reading back on some of my stuff, it all seems so silly and protracted and painfully obvious and stereotypical and BORING. So this is a new story I'm busting out. It's something a bit different and radical. I'm going to start shaking things up. Hope you dig it.
Let's own the night.
DDR1.
