I really shouldn't be making another story, but I just . . the list has been finished for a few weeks now and . . it was calling me to write it ._.
xXx
Darkness.
It was always darkness.
This dream, the reoccurring dream, was always bathed in the nothingness of the dark where not a living thing would lurk in, it would be a vast, empty wasteland, as silent as it was deserted. The lack of noise didn't cause uneasiness, nor did the lack of light cause the feeling of being blind, helpless, unable to block off anything that could be thrown to harm, it was tranquil. The blackness could have been in the depths of the ocean, the sluggish feel of swinging her arms out in the space around her equivalent to the lazy, underwater swimming strokes. Its coolness was welcomed by her, swirling around her body and stroking the creamy flesh, its brushes no heavier or rougher than a feather that had just drifted down from a bird.
Her legs moved forward at their own will, not that she was defiant and against it, and they carried her throw the void, every step sending a bolt of ease from the flat of her bare foot to her numbed face. The warmth of her breath soon became icy particles that clung to the surface of her cheeks and nipped at her nose, the lovely freshness of it exciting her body. She was so used to knowing what was going to happen and being able to see what situation she was in, but here now, with no chance of knowing where this path – if it was a path – was taking her, or if she was going in endless circles.
It was then that her scarlet eyes traveled down from whatever direction she had been staring in to her body. The same brown sweater and black tank top, the same black skirt, but no knee high socks. Her skin flushed with a wave of goose bumps, the realization that she was cold blocking her from comprehending that she was able to see what she was wearing, when just previously she had been cast in nothing but darkness. She brushed her hand over the pimples that had arisen in her skin, hand rubbing against the side of her thigh and creating a minor heat that compared not against the cool air.
Seeing that her hand had lightened up to a darker shade of gray rather than the midnight colored blanket that had hidden it from her, she turned her head up, curiosity flecked across her face. Her mouth gaping open, the iciness crawling past her lips and invading the heated cavern, freezing her tongue over, she stared memorized at the brilliant light at the end of the passageway, calling her to come closer to it and enter.
She stopped in her tracks, eyebrows furrowed together as the fear of not knowing what was on the other side leaked into her. Sniffles, the scientist of her town, had once had a presentation about his theory on why they resurrected each day, no matter how gruesome their death was, and he had stated something about their souls not being able to enter the afterlife like they should. He had gone into a detailed description of what they could be missing out, the disappearance of all pain and no deaths, and he had mentioned a few possible choices where they could go. One of them being a place called. . . .
Shaking her head, she was tempted to turn around and walk back, but as she turned her body, she felt a persistent tugging on her mind, like she needed to be there. She frowned worriedly, what would happen if she went and she never came back . . She couldn't remember dying, but then again, no one ever could. The last thing she could recall was being dropped off by Petunia and Giggles after a long day of shopping. Exhausted, she had stumbled into her living room, dropping her keys on the coffee table, and fallen like a dead weight onto her couch. After that . . nothing came to mind, but it was possible that her roof had caved in for some unforeseen reason and crushed her sleeping form under it.
The tugging grew, luring her in and erasing all doubtful thoughts as she bit down on her thumb nail, but she couldn't feel nervous the nearer she came to it, the feeling leaving her body for the time being. The light grew brighter, warming her to the bone and calling her name out. This was where she never turned back, it was the final end, and she knew it. It was exactly what Sniffles had claimed it to be, he couldn't have been wrong about the sense of protection and comfort, along with the "light at the end of the tunnel".
Eyes watering, she took a breath meant to give her courage and pushed her hand out into the unknown, a numbness enveloping and putting a warm blanket on her. With the coldness driven away, she sighed in content, her eyes flickering under her eyelids and face upturned to enjoy the sun, or what could have been mistaken for the sun. The trickling of a nearby river filled her mind, its calming effect encouraging her to actually see what was around her.
Her surroundings were peculiar, but relaxing nonetheless. It was the childhood setting of a lit up forest, golden beams pouring through the branches of the fir trees and butterflies flying from one flower to the next. There wasn't a patch that wasn't covered in sunlight as far as she could tell, the glittering in the air a possible mirage from the sudden change of dark to bright. The grass blades, soft as a carpeted walkway under her, were swaying in the pleasant breeze that blew through the trees, tickling her feet.
Birds twittering and squirrels chatting amongst themselves, she was distracted from noticing the boy who was seated in a particularly well lit area of grass, his nervous posture relaxing some when he saw her. Flaky smiled, heart overflowing with the cuteness of such a quaint little place, and shuffled forward, afraid that it was all going to fade if she touched anything.
Changing where she was looking at, her eyes drifted from the clear looking water of the pond, surrounded by smooth river rocks, to follow a Monarch butterfly, earning a shock when it passed by the red hair of the male as she finally noticed him. Stricken with the surprise that there was another being in her dream, she openly gaped at him, if only for a second. Their contact was short, both of them breaking it and anxiously fiddling with something; for her it was her hair and it being the edge of his sweater for him. She hadn't expected anyone else to be here, not now nor the other times . . .
"H-hello," Flaky stuttered out while looking back at his face to inspect it for any signs of danger. He could be a murderer, looks could be deceiving, but . . if she wasn't mistaken, he looked almost as nervous as she felt.
He nodded awkwardly, staring at his twirling thumbs that were placed in his lap, mumbling in response, "H-hi . ." His voice carried over to her as a whisper, the words said lower than the softest of mumbles, hardly a breath over an octave. Having no intentions to have a conversation with her, or so it looked like it, she decided to drop the causalities – he was just a figment her mind had conjured up, anyways, so there was no point in speaking.
Taking the time to pretend to admire the scenery a bit more, she discreetly examined his appearance, something about him was oddly . . familiar . . The red hair, it had to be the red hair. She only knew one male who had the same hair color as her, and he rarely liked to be seen out in public, disliking that people would sometimes mistake him for his blue headed twin. Its rarity would have made him stick out like a sore thumb in her memories if she was recognizing him from somewhere.
But that was just a trait that he inherited, it wasn't as if he had by chosen what hair color he was born with. She couldn't drag her focus away from his head, his hair striking her interest as she strained her eyes to decide whether her mind was playing tricks on her again. Because . . she could have almost swore that he had an excessive dandruff problem as well, the flakes falling to the ground with every movement and gathering in a circle around him. Comforted that now he wouldn't be able to make fun of her for her scalp condition, she drew her attention to his face.
His boyish features determined his age to be somewhere around the age of seventeen to nineteen, setting them in the same age category. The peach toned skin was slightly pale under the vividly colored hair, yet she wouldn't have considered him as being pasty, choosing to admire his blemish-free complexion. In fact, the only default she spotted in his face were the worry lines he had in his forehead, put there from the constant upraise of his brows when he was upset or anxious.
He seemed worried then, she assumed, seeing that he was biting his lower lip and constantly pulling blades of grass from the ground to toss to the side when they were dislodged. There was little to worry about in a place like this, so she found it difficult to understand why he was, not even she was on the edge. The only tragic event that could occur was falling into the pond that couldn't have been more than four feet depth wise.
Unable to see his eyes since he was looking down, busing himself with the flowers around him, she hesitated before stepping closer, wary that he might get angry at her for picking the area he was in to sit down when there was many other places she could go.
When he didn't look up or snap at her for penetrating his bubble of personal space, she dropped down onto her knees, hands cupping them and moving up to rest on her thighs after she squirmed nearer to the boy. Her curiosity ruling over her own shy personality, she was able to crawl and pause only two feet from him without the troubling thought of being frightened.
"U-um . ." Flaky curled her fingers into the grass, unsure of how to ask the first question. She never did like to be the first to start, or restart, a conversation.
Looking up, startled at her closeness, he turned his eyes away from her at once and pulled up his legs to himself. His fingers were locked together under his knee caps through the grey loose fitting jeans. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but at first nothing came out. It was on his second try that he managed to ask the question of her name.
". . W-what's your name?"
"My n-name?" She asked, answering a question with a question, her name fleeing from her memory for a second. Her mind was hazy and unable to think of anything as simple as a name in the smothering safeness of the unrealistic setting, while just minutes before her thoughts had been crisp, clear; the clarity was gone now, it had left with the icy temperature. Now she was slow, the need to take a nap in the soothing environment beckoning her to lay her head down.
"I-I'm not sure . ." Why would he want her name, was her body craving companion or friendship to such an extent that she had to make up a person. But everyone had talked to persons in their dreams one or more times, it was normal – if she had tried to continue it. The conversation was once again left to nothing, neither of them working hard to figure out what place they were in.
Finding it rude of herself not to ask the same question as well, the girl stammered out in embarrassment, "W-what's your n-name?"
"Huh?" He hadn't expected a continuation of the conversation, fine with sitting in silence with the female. Briefly wondering if giving his name to a dreamt up girl was the right thing to do, he picked at the laces of his shoes. It couldn't lead to anything bad, so what was the harm in it. "O-oh . . okay . . my name's—"
"FLAKYYYYY!"
The name rang out through the dream, the fear showing in his eyes as he finally looked up at her. The soft, sensitive scarlet eyes that she saw reflected at her every day in the mirror.
"W-whaha!?" The landscape falling apart and blurring, she covered her ears to stop the shrieking from deafening her. The lights that had warmly lit up the forest surrounded meadow shutting off like someone had flipped off a switch and blackening everything, the boy included, she was snapped out of her dreamscape with a scream.
"WAHH!—" Flaky sat up immediately, the covers tangling and flying into the air as she rolled off her bed and landed on the floor of her room with a low groan. Legs still hanging on the bed, she rolled over and sat up to tenderly rub the crown of her head. After a minute of recovering, she looked at her bed where the culprit sat, bouncing on the springy mattress and dripping melted ice cream onto her thermal blanket.
Nutty waved with his free but still sticky hand, smiling at her bedraggled and annoyed form. He hadn't understood that he had been the one who had driven her to where she was now. "Happy morning Flaky! Why are you on the floor?"
Flaky sighed and stood. "No reason . . The bed w-was just making my back hurt . ." If she had tried to explain it to him they'd be in her room all day plus one. "Nutty . . how d-did you get in here?"
"Splendid told me where the spare key was!" He replied, as chipper as he always was whenever she talked to him. "He pointed to the mat and then I used it to come in here! Haha but he told me I couldn't tell you that I knew about it! Isn't that weird!? And you need more ice cream now, and more WAFFLE cones!" He gave her a toothy grin and might as well have smashed the whole cone into his face, licking up the sticky treat.
This was too early to already be disgusted but something like . . that.
Scratching her arm and wrinkling her nose slightly at the disturbing sight, she told herself to move her house key later . . when she knew for sure that Splendid wasn't looking at her house to see what she was doing. "So you c-came in on your own, without me saying it was okay . . That's f-fine . . But why did you need me?"
"Huuuh?" Nutty, so involved in his sweets, had forgotten the entire reason why he had marched into her house without permission and caused a ruckus in the first place.
"The reason? N-Nutty, why are you in my house? To tell or ask me s-something?"
His face took on a blank look as he tapped his chin with one sugared finger, the stickiness creating a challenge for him to pull it away. "Mmmm, uhhh, the reeassoon, oh, duh! I know why! Sniffles is having me remind EVERYONE that his science observatory thingy is today! Remember?! The planets and stars and yeah yeah yeah stuff is tonight! So I gotta make sure everyone is going!
"His words were 'Nutty, go find people and don't get distracted' then I came here and I found this ice cream! Like you bought it for me yay!" Giggling and swinging his legs out, the teen smiled at her, waiting for her response. "And yeah – hehe! – I wanted to make sure that you didn't forget to go!"
Bolting at the word 'today', the drowsiness drained out of her as she remembered the commitment and what her part of it had been. She had had to meet up with Flippy and purchase the snacks for the – Flippy! She was supposed to have met him almost twenty minutes ago at the grocery store to pick out the munchies and refreshments!
"N-no I'm late!" Flaky, holding out her arms to the side and panicking about what needed to be done, she ran to her closet and pulled her everyday sweater. She would need to get dressed, and fast, before her friend could start worrying about her.
"Late for what!?"
"Nutty get o-out of my house!" Sounding exasperated, she jogged into her bathroom and shut the door, locking it to signify that she needed privacy. Alone in the bathroom, she put her clothes on the sink and gripped the ends of the counter, staring at her feet and trying to forget the dream. She didn't know a boy like that, never had seen him in her life if she was remembering things correctly.
This was all too weird . . No she hadn't seen him in her life, or never seen him in the town to be specific, but for the past two weeks she had the same dream every night. Wasn't that supposed to mean something? But how did it mean anything if she never advanced in the dream and she knew nothing about who he was . .
Flippy would know, she would ask him. He was always good at giving her advice about things like this.
xXx
This was a boring first chapter, but it's kinda like a prologue thing. Ah, another multichapter for me, awesome. I'm hoping that later chapters are longer and more interesting than this one. Reviews would be awesome, and soon the genderbents will make their appearances! Soon.