At night, she dreamed.
Sometimes, the dreams made a vague, dream kind of sense. Being lost in an open sea, falling, lost in the woods… all the kind of dreams you understood. But the oddest were the most oft occurring. In those dreams, she was in a room. A dining room, she knew, that she'd never been to. There was a round table with a few chairs. Depending on who would accompany her was the scene outside the single window. He always had rain, like that day. The waitress had dusk. Cody had mid-afternoon.
For hours in her dreams, she would talk to the people. Sometimes, she just told them what she felt or what she'd done, like a therapy session. Sometimes, she'd talk about the person. Sometimes, she took out her frustration, her anger, her pain, on the illusionary figures.
Usually, she watched.
Yet, even though the dreams weren't scary or sad, she'd often find herself either screaming or sobbing when she awoke. One morning, after a particularly frustrating confession to him, she awoke, her throat feeling blocked and raw from holding back, her nose stuffy, and her eyes itching. Her pillow was damp and hot with tears and other such things, and she sniffled deeply, coughing as she rose and went to perform her daily ritual of cleaning and clearing away what clung to her from the night's dreams.
She loathed it.
She was sure, sooner or later, she'd stand up to discover her legs bent to the shape of the bike she spent so long upon, or that she'd try to get off to find that she couldn't. But it hadn't happened yet, so she continued for days on end on the purring seat.
August
September
October
She put the pack in her pocket, easily surpassing the store's meager security. Once outside, she flipped out the lighter, putting the cigarette to her lips. She blew out the smoke. She still coughed sometimes, and she had no idea why she even wanted to smoke. But he'd done it, and as it became harder to recall smaller details, she clung to what she could. Couldn't think it, couldn't forget it.
She didn't know where she was headed, besides south somewhere. But she pulled into the hotel parking lot, slipping back into her room. She needed to change. She could blend, true, but someone was bound to find her. She touched where her streak should've been. She'd dyed it, like the waitress had suggested months ago. Her entire hair was redder than it should've been, redder than her natural, but maybe that was better.
She sat by the window, looking out at it as she pulled off her gloves, flexing her hands. Someday, she wouldn't need gloves. Someday, she wouldn't need to dye her hair. Someday, she wouldn't need him.
She lay down on the floor, watching the sky change slowly to shades of gold and red, slipping into inky purples and blues as the stars came out again.
She didn't sleep that night, letting the air wash over her and soothe the sting she felt. One leg out, then the second, closing the window almost all the way behind her, and then she was off, back into the city. What was it like here when the sun wasn't around to keep the night things at bay?
A dance club held a line what would like a snake around and about, but it moves along quickly. A bookstore sat like an empty shell with a FOR RENT sign posted over it's windows. Houses shone with patters in lights, glowing formations that told a new story for each home. Here, a father tucked his daughter into bed, turning out the light so the nightlight glowed like a captured firefly. There, a teenager washed dishes from the family meal, grumbling darkly. Across the street, a baby wailed and it's mother came to check it.
She swiped at her eyes. Foolish. Tears at a time like this.
She nearly passed by the lamp post, but paused instead. Among the tatters that stuck to it, one fluttered, reasonably new and loud. A carnival soon.
She lit a fresh cigarette. She could stay for that.
The grounds were alight as dusk crept up, offering the possibility of an enjoyable evening. The air smelled of corndogs and candy, children squealing in delight, couples smiling. Color was everywhere. In the cheap prizes the victors clung to, in the bright cloths, the lights… and above it all, the hazy chatter and music.
She stumbled along it all, winner her own batch of prizes, keeping only a few. A plushie kitten, a deck of cards, a necklace of braided string, such things. The day bled into night and the crowds only thickened. She stumbled out into the air, smiling. No accidents tonight, even in the crowds. True, she was dressed to prevent, but something always seemed to go awry.
Now she wandered along the edge of the crowds, peeking to find the things she had not done yet. Fortune teller…
She paused. Most of them were fake but she knew… had know, rather, enough people capable that she had curiousity enough to pay the three bucks to try.
She had the typical reader look to her, all beads and dark tangles and mysterious eyes.
"Sit, child." Sneaking suspcions were saying this was a fake. She put out a tarot deck. "Pick five cards dat Feel right." The word evee felt like it had a capital letter. However, Rogue did as she was told, picking her five and putting them into line. "De first cards is your past." Flip. The Page of Coins. "I assume de question was of love?" A faint nod. "You didn't know how t' handle de relationship, but you felt good about it nonedeless. However, it didn't work, and you were depressed. Next is why you're doing what you're doin' now." Flip. "De Lovers. You made a decision dat needed makin', and you feel alienated because of what happened. You became trapped at a dead end. You had t' make anodder choice, continue de road you was on, or change de course." She felt ill. "What you're doin' now. Knight of Cups. You want somethin' badly and fear dat you'll never get it. You hope. Movin' somewhere else will probably ease de tension. You will be unhappy for de moment. Now who it involves…"
"Ya don't have to…"
"King of Wands. Someone ambitious, direct, daring, impulsive, but sometimes self-centered, hot-tempered, and impatient. You'll want t' make contact wit' dem, but problems will make you shut down. Let go and you might be surprised. You'll be hurt because of lies or because you were played false. Last, your most likely outcome."
The hole was throbbing dully. She was pale, sweaty, and having problems breathing.
"Breathe, Rogue. Four of Coins. You will tink over de possibilites of a relationship. Obstacles, if both work for it, will be overcome. You won't unite wit someone because your heart belongs t' your King of Wands. You'll remain detached and guarded until you know for certain." A knowing smile. "You'll have t' take a chance, my dear. Make a gambit, of sorts." Rogue turned and ran from the tent, gasping for breath before she'd even risen. She fell away, grasping her sides as the hole pulsed and throbbed before her body slowly numbled. She had to get away from here, to anywhere else.
She walked back to her hotel and began to pack. Coincidence, irony, whatever… she no longer remember or cared about the woman's words.