Momentarily released from Monika's presence,
I take the opportunity to look around her room.
A single, full size bed sits flush against one wall,
not far from the only window in the room.
Emerald green curtains help to hinder the outside world,
but they're sheer enough that some light must inevitably
shine through as soon as the sun rises.
Does Monika enjoy the sun waking her up in the morning?
Does she imagine it belonging to the face
she hopes is looking in at her?
I can't help but think about the first poem she wrote:
"It wasn't too bright.
It was too deep."
Being in her room, my own thoughts start to spiral
towards their own hole of infinite choices as well.
But however much I want to follow them down,
my own film is being melted away by a different sort of sun.
With great reluctance, I continue my tour.
A simple, off-white writing desk sits opposite the bed,
chair pushed firmly into its prepared space.
A small disaster of items obscures my view.
I stroll over to take a better look.
Unlike the rest of the room, which appears,
at first glance, to be tidy and contained,
her desk's surface is a cat's scramble
of pens, various sized notebooks,
and papers haphazardly strewn about,
all covering up a laptop that's barely visible
beneath the clutter.
Poems, in various stages of completion,
occupy the many white spaces scattered before me.
Though curiosity begs me to investigate
her poems as well as her laptop,
a writer's respect for another's private craft,
and a solemn respect for her privacy in general,
keeps me from doing so.
Still, I smile at the disarray, knowing how discreet
and hidden it is from the rest of the world.
Monika, despite everything, probably never expected
anyone to venture this deep into her intimate spaces
and see the unguarded aspects of her life.
It's comforting to know at least some part of her
doesn't feel like it has to be perfect,
that it can just be the mess it needs to be.
True, she did show some of her chaos and disorder
in game, but that was somewhat unintentional,
a consequence of her frustration and longing.
But seeing the unrestricted clutter on her desk,
like an oasis of disarray in a room full of control,
fills me with a warmth that I don't want to explain,
just feel.
It makes me think of Sayori, Yuri, & Natsuki,
and the many secrets they also tried hiding.
Knowing Monika the way I do, I can see their genesis
swimming around unseen in that stormy, unnatural sea
of paper, silicon and plastic laid out below me.
I want to cliff dive into those waves
and discover what worlds await my entry.
Reluctantly,
I herd my thoughts back into their pen.
However enthralled I am to the mystery
of her private, unshared spaces,
I am tied to the mast of a ship called time;
Monika's siren thoughts singing to me as I sail.
Sad as Odysseus, I too must continue,
for my feet have many miles yet to travel,
and my ears are acute to the sound of Monika
putting on the last remnants of her sleep.
No time to dawdle, I hurry my gaze
over the little remaining space left unremarked.
A bookcase besides the desk looks like it's mostly filled
with anime and volumes of poetry.
A small closet and dresser on the adjacent wall
stand watchful guard over her clothes,
the contents of which I definitely do my best to ignore.
However much I adore Monika in her uniform,
the desire to see her in something else is partly the inspiration
behind my designing her dress and pjs to begin with.
So her closet is one door I dare not open,
lest I fall into its invitation and be
irrevocably lost.
The sound of Monika struggling to open the door
means I've finished my tour almost on cue.
And it also means I have just enough time
to create one last surprise.
A quick summoning of distant code leads
to two mannequins, one male, one female,
appearing on opposite sides of her bed,
right against the wall.
Being romantic, and a bit egotistical,
I put the male mannequin in the corner, next to the window,
so that every day she wakes up here,
it will be one of the first things she sees.
Even-though I can't stay here,
I want her to always be reminded
I am with her, no matter what.
With the mannequins in place,
I transfer more code and feel my suit melt away.
I watch it reappear on its male counterpart,
clean and wrinkle free, as if it had just come back
from the dry cleaners.
Now, instead of my suit, a soft, tri-blend t-shirt, dark grey,
and a pair of semi-thick, cotton jogging pants, black,
cover me in something more comfortable and appropriate
for cuddling and storytelling.
Monika finally opens the door, looking down,
still doing her best to cradle her dress without damaging it.
She's so distracted by her effort, among other things,
that she starts to speak even before she looks up.
Monika: Do you have any idea how...
Looking up and seeing me in something entirely different
was definitely something she wasn't expecting,
Her gaze is romantic and more than a bit puzzled,
and I can tell my change of clothes is only partly to blame
for why she stopped mid-sentence.
Because I don't need her code anymore to change the game,
she no longer knows when it happens.
The plus side is that she is no longer subjected
to that harsh tickle along her skin when I do.
The downside is that now, when it happens,
it ends up being a complete surprise to her.
And even-though she likes to complain
about me taking over her code, some part of her
definitely misses feeling that primal connection with me.
That's why a brief ghost of sadness flits quickly across her gaze
before disappearing behind a wall of fire.
A bit overwhelmed by the rush of emotions,
she pointedly looks away, biting on her lip,
while trying to ignore my presence, which is
suddenly filling her mind with very unexpected thoughts.
I'm sure the grin on my face isn't helping either.
The Player: Do I have any idea of what exactly, Monika?
The Player: Hmmmmm?
Even turned away, I can see the red on her face
is having a hard time making its exit.
She is definitely more flustered
than even she expected to be.
Then again;
I was a bit devious with her pajamas.
For her top, I went with a slightly oversized,
cotton sleep-shirt dyed a hazy metallic grey with black edging.
I also left her a pair of oh-so-soft, cotton sleep shorts
dyed a shade warmer than a herd of baby pink elephants
traipsing through a dream jungle.
But the final surprise waiting for her was a perfectly sized set
of emerald green lingerie made from the same mist fabric
accentuating her dress.
The grey and black made sense for her top
since it mimics my outfit, somewhat,
as well as being a nice contrast to her blushing pink shorts.
In addition, I really wanted to see her in something
other than green, just for the sake of variety.
Besides, the 'important' parts of her are still being clothed
in her favorite color, so she feels the green where it counts.
From a distance, the outfit look very comfortable,
and I look forward to feeling it on her as we cuddle later.
The teasing that will happen as well goes without saying...sorta.
Still, the sensuality underneath it all can't be denied.
So, even before she opened up the door,
I had a delicious suspicion Monika was struggling
with more than just the delicate nature of her dress.
My feasting on her ensemble, and her instant blush,
are more than enough confirmation I was right, as usual.
I love her no matter what, but in those pjs...
It seems the grin on my face has taken up permanent residence.
She sneaks a glance my way, sees my grin is still there,
and that makes her turn her head and close her eyes even harder
as her face goes an even deeper shade of red.
I'm smart enough to see the Yuri in her,
and even smarter to not mention it.
But Monika wouldn't be Monika without some bite.
I can even hear a little bit of Natsuki underneath the scolding.
Monika: Do you have ANY idea
Monika: how INFURIATING you are!?
Her anger finally allows her to look at me
without feeling utterly vulnerable,
although I can easily see how paper thin
a shield it actually is.
And even though she is just as beautiful to me
when she is angry; right now,
it's the white flag of her limit.
I turn down my gaze's heat and lower my voice as well.
The Player: Yes, I do,
The Player: But you see...
I pause to let even more heat dissipate, or try to;
she isn't buying it.
The Player: I have this terrible disease.
Her gaze turns tender and a tad bit quizzical,
just in case I might be serious.
The Player: I'm addicted to making you feel,
The Player: and I don't care which emotion I get,
The Player: so long as it's intense,
The Player: and it makes you think of me
The Player: as much as I think of you.
Snookered by my sincerity, captured by my creativity,
Monika closes her eyes to hide even more blush from me
and turns her head away before shaking it,
a faint shadow of a smile haunting the edges of her mouth.
An interesting thought suddenly enters my mind.
The Player: Wasn't I just as infuriating in game as well?
The Player: Hmmmmm?
The Player: Seems you like me that way to begin with.
She keeps her head turned, refusing to look at me.
I pause to let the tease sink in.
The Player: Not as much fun when you aren't in control?
Monika, using her anger to gain some control back,
stares daggers at me; soft, fuzzy daggers,
but daggers nonetheless.
Monika: No!
The smile semi-ruins the point,
especially when she starts blushing even harder.
Monika: A little...
My own smile commiserates with her.
The Player: Don't I know the feeling?
The Player: You're wonderfully infuriating as well.
The blush on her face refuses to leave.
She decides to risk being mean.
Monika: I didn't say wonderfully.
Having said it, Monika's face immediately reveals
her wish to take it back, embarrassed by
the unexpected anger within.
My wide smile gives her anger the permission it needs.
The Player: I added the wonderfully for you
The Player: since I know you wouldn't say it,
The Player: at least in your semi-tsundere mode.
*chuckle*
The Player: You're almost a secret tsundere:
The Player: loving and adoring on the outside,
The Player: oh-so-wonderfully angry on the inside
The Player: hiding yet another, deeper layer
The Player: of anger and love beneath.
Tiger Monika does not like the spotlight.
Monika: *Grrrrrrrrr*
Monika: I'm not a tsundere.
Ignoring her, *hee hee*, I take a few steps closer.
The Player: I love your anger, Monika, almost as much
The Player: as the rest of your emotions.
The Player: Your fury at being deleted near the end,
The Player: even though it was what you wanted...
I pause to remember the moment.
The Player: ...so delicious.
My smile turns her blush up to 11.
Tyger Tyger, blushing bright.
Monika: Stop It!
Into the tiger's den I step, right in front of her.
The Player: You know I can't.
I pause, letting my thoughts meander, just a bit.
The Player: Your rage and fury, your anger,
The Player: are a part of who you are.
The Player: And that means its a part of you
The Player: I love as well.
I reach up and caress her cheek;
her eyes grip their daggers tighter.
The Player: We aren't always going to be nice
The Player: and loving to each other.
The Player: We're going to fight
The Player: and say mean things to each other.
The Player: And it's ok.
I pause again to get a bit lost in her eyes.
Her eyes pause to wander with me.
The Player: It's ok to be angry and frustrated;
The Player: it's what you feel at the moment.
The Player: It doesn't change the love we have towards each other.
It's the mention of love that cracks Monika's angry egg wide open,
letting me see the tender, green yolk of love floating in her eyes.
I smile so evilly.
The Player: And for a tsundere, even a secret one,
The Player: or especially for a secret one,
The Player: anger is the sun that keeps its
The Player: adjacent planet of love oh so nice and warm.
Those green yolks turn into baby dragons breathing fire.
Bring out the marshmallows.
Monika: *Grrrrrrr*
Monika: I'm NOT a tsundere!
Flame retardant, I keep going.
The Player: Protests aside, this is us being naked
The Player: and honest and loving with each other,
The Player: just not the fun kind.
*chuckle*
My smirk and slight chuckle only manage
to deflect some of her anger.
Her mouth crinkles into a tender smile,
like a shark trying to be polite to its prey,
but the blush will not leave.
I wonder why?
The Player: And since I want the fun kind as well...
More Monika blushing;
a red sun shines bright over grey and pink pajamas.
The Player: I'll take the not-so-fun kind that comes with it.
The Player: Because, it's still fun, just...
Monika: Just what?
Another slight chuckle.
The Player: Just a different kind of fun.
I rub my thumb gently over her cheek,
lowering my voice to that of a caress.
The Player: Then again, I bet you are soooo intense
The Player: when you are angry.
I purr, and watch her body primal unfurl its shudders.
The Player: I'm so looking forward to our make-up sessions.
With the dress still cradled in her arms, handcuffing her,
Monika's body doesn't know what to do with her emotions.
She's trying to be careful and not damage it,
but I can see her arms shaking as her body struggles
to contain everything I'm stirring inside her.
It's one thing to love her for who she is and say it aloud.
It's another thing to say it to her in her secret space,
a place she never really thought about sharing with another,
while she's wearing something decadently comfortable,
on top of being teased in the process.
Intense doesn't begin to describe it.
Monika Primal is starting to resent her cage.
Monika: *GRRRRRRR!*
Her deep growl helps to get me back on track.
The Player: There I go again,
The Player: getting intense with you when I shouldn't,
The Player: when there's still so much left to do.
Having created a problem, I struggle to figure out how to solve it.
I decide I can't take it all back, but I can make a small concession.
The Player: Here, let me help you with that dress.
A quick, but gentle, invocation of code makes the dress
dissolve out of her arms and reappear,
perfectly placed and dry-cleaned,
on its respective mannequin.
I even place a wig, similar to Monika's hairstyle, on top
just so I can tie it up in a silver ribbon netting
exactly like the one I made for her.
Now, both of our outfits can stand loving sentry
on either side of her bed, guarding her sleep
with their unexpected memories.
Unfortunately, Monika is in no mood
to pay attention to them right now.
Teased, tormented, frustrated, overwhelmed,
it's not surprising she lunges at me,
hands trying to grab onto my hair.
I do manage to grab onto her wrists
and wrestle her body against the wall,
but I'm not sure if I'm making the situation
better or worse.
My instinct says: make it worse.
Not giving her the chance to react,
I reach over and bite hard into her neck.
The Player: *CHOMP*
The Player: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRR*
Monika was definitely not expecting that.
She briefly struggles against me even harder
before my intensity, my needing to bite her,
somehow begins to calm her down.
She stops squirming, at least to get away from me,
and starts whimpering instead.
Monika: UUhhhhhhh.
I release the pressure from my bite and use my mouth
to kiss and lick the mark I've left on her,
my tongue riding the undulations of her tremors
like a surfer following the tide rolling in.
So close to her ear,
I can practically whisper
what I want to say to her,
so I do.
The Player: I'm not sorry, at all, for teasing you.
I kiss her mark again.
The Player: I'm not sorry, at all, for tormenting you.
I kiss a bit farther up her neck.
The Player: I'm not sorry, at all, for frustrating you.
I kiss just below her ear.
The Player: I'm not sorry, at all, for overwhelming you.
I kiss her ear and lower my voice even more.
The Player: Because I'm not sorry, in the least,
The Player: for how much I love you.
Monika: *whimper*
I pull away from her ear and bring my face in front of hers,
deep brown gazing into emerald green.
The Player: And you aren't sorry either for doing the same,
The Player: now or in the future, are you?
Monika's voice is barely above a whisper.
Monika: No...
I smile warmly at her.
The Player: Good.
I risk releasing her right hand, my left,
and bring it directly to her hair,
letting it swim in her strands as it pleases.
Her hand reaches over and holds onto my arm.
The Player: So neither of us are sorry
The Player: for feeling the way we feel
The Player: and doing what we do.
I pause to give her time to breathe.
The Player: This is who we are.
I pause again.
The Player: This is how we love.
A slight pause for reflection and courage.
I release her other wrist but entwine my fingers with hers,
keeping it together but away from the rest of her.
The Player: And intense has its drawbacks.
I bring my free thumb up to her lips;
Monika looks at me very intently.
The Player: It's a price I'm willing to pay.
My thumb dares to trespass inside the lion's mouth.
Payback within reach, she doesn't hesitate.
She opens her mouth like a viper and strikes,
teeth clamping down on her prey before I have time
to think about regretting my choice, which I don't.
Still, not going to lie; it hurts like hell.
The Player: OWWWW!
Maybe it's my reaction, maybe it's all the teasing I've done.
In either case, Monika is extra enthusiastic in her bite,
using her teeth to express what her words can't
at the moment. But they are more than eloquent.
Monika: *Grrrrrrrrrr*
Wow, I don't remember my other thumb
hurting this bad when she bit it.
But maybe that's the pain talking,
or maybe it's Monika not holding back this time?
Either way, at least I'll have a matching set now.
The Player: Ooooooowwwwwwwww.
This IS inappropriate joke time, at least in private.
I'm smart enough to not say it out loud.
Hungry for her revenge, Monika holds on
a few seconds longer before finally being satisfied
and letting my thumb go, although she does reach over
and grab onto my hand, holding it firm,
while she kisses and ministers to a very tender prey.
Her gaze, when she finally looks at me, is direct,
but I can still see some remnant of guilt floating in the weeds,
unsure if she will somehow be rejected for giving in to her instincts,
despite what I said.
Letting my other hand escape from hers,
I bring it to her face and stroke her cheek.
The Player: What did I say about not being sorry?
Monika, still holding onto my hand,
pauses her kisses and thinks for a second.
Monika: That neither of us are sorry...
She doesn't continue.
The Player: Aaaaand?
Monika: For feeling the way we feel...
Again, she stops.
The Player: Aaaaand?
Her gaze sharpens, just a tad.
It's like drawing out fangs with her.
Monika: ...Doing what we do.
The Player: Exactly.
The Player: And I meant it.
I chuckle a bit, my thumb throbbing in her hand.
The Player: What, did you think I'd be surprised
The Player: at you being cruel towards me?
The Player: Baby, you were mean towards your friends,
The Player: and they were just your friends.
The vague mention of her past makes her close her eyes tightly,
trying to forget everything she did, and failing.
I smile deep and warm, even if she can't see it.
The Player: Why would you think you wouldn't be
The Player: just as cruel, or worse, to me?
Monika flinches everytime I use the word cruel.
I pause to reconsider my word choice.
The Player: Ok, maybe cruel isn't the best word.
The Player: How about negatively intense?
Her eyes open and stare directly into me,
intently dissecting the meaning of my words.
The Player: Strong, deep feelings
The Player: have strong, deep reactions.
The Player: That wasn't just how you felt
The Player: about wanting to be with me.
The Player: That's how you felt, were going to feel,
The Player: if/when you were with me.
I can't help but smile so wide at her.
The Player: Again, your fury when you felt me delete you...
The Player: so very delicious.
Monika blushes and lowers her eyes, briefly,
but she can't stay away very long,
either from my gaze or my words.
Monika: Even though I knew it was coming,
Monika: I was still so angry and hurt when you did it.
I laugh openly.
The Player: No kidding, baby.
The Player: You couldn't hide it anymore,
The Player: the final disappointment at being rejected,
The Player: yet again.
The Player: So yeah, I knew from that moment,
The Player: among others, how angry you could get at me
The Player: if you could just get past your fear.
The Player: I saw it, I loved it,
The Player: and I continue to love it.
I bring my not-throbbing thumb hand to her cheek
and run my thumb in circles around it.
The Player: I meant what I said about loving all of you.
The Player: Besides, these are special circumstances.
Her eyebrows furrow with confusion
like drunk, sophisticated caterpillars.
Monika: What do you mean?
I can't help but chuckle,
overcome by my awareness of the obvious.
The Player: We aren't exactly in our normal habitat, Monika.
The Player: We aren't just in different states of being,
The Player: we're in different states of being in public,
The Player: and ONLY in public.
The Player: That affects how we are towards each other
The Player: in ways most people wouldn't even think about.
She looks away and stops to consider what I just said.
Monika: I never thought about it that way.
My voice gets tender and soft.
The Player: Baby, being alone for so long, I'm not surprised
The Player: you went from one extreme to the other.
The Player: I'm sure it's what most people would do.
The Player: And I don't blame you one bit for it;
The Player: public is what brought you to me.
Monika's eyes return to mine bubbling with tears.
I let my thumb caress its way to the edge of her face,
trying to use my touch to release some of the pressure.
The Player: That being said, it's no surprise
The Player: it would have a massive effect
The Player: on the way you'd behave towards me.
The Player: Not being able to have real, private,
The Player: especially intimate, alone time with me,
The Player: that's another pile of stress on top of
The Player: everything else you are dealing with.
I pause to let the logic sink in,
doing my best to not make her cry.
Slowly, her water level begins to drop.
Disaster averted, I can continue.
The Player: So yeah, no surprise you are a bit...
The Player: extreme...towards me...
The Player: especially here.
I briefly look around the room before looking back at her.
The Player: If you are the heart of the game,
The Player: then this place is the heart of you.
The Player: Double the heart, double the intensity,
The Player: and we are intense to begin with.
Monika: Yes we are.
I smirk, trying, and failing, to hold back a chuckle.
Monika also fights her instinct to respond, and fails,
but she's still too full of emotion to risk
giving me more than a smirk as well.
The Player: On top of all that,
The Player: I haven't been all that soothing to you...yet.
Her reply is not only wistful but hopeful as well.
Monika: Yet.
The Player: And it's about time I started working on that.
Gently escaping my sore hand from hers, I slide it behind her back.
I quickly bend down and put my other hand underneath her legs
and lift her into the air before she has time to react with anything
other than surprise.
Monika: BABY!
Monika: *giggle*
The Player: You're giggling. That's a good start.
Commenting on her giggles makes Monika's blush
return with a vengeance, although she does her best
to hide it by burying her face against my neck.
Her arms finally decide to wrap around me,
allowing her to snuggle so adorably close.
Monika: *Puuuuuuurrrrrr*
With Monika cradled in my arms, listening to her purr,
I stand there for a few seconds and refuse to move,
trying to savor this moment, this gift I've been given.
Eventually, I walk over to the bed, bend over,
and try lowering her body into it.
Her comfort disturbed, Monika isn't happy.
Monika: *mumble mumble*
Monika: *grrowl*
Her arms refuse to let go of me.
I rub my cheek against her hair,
not wanting to move my hands.
The Player: It's ok, baby.
The Player: I'll be right behind you.
I bend at the knees to take the pressure off my back
and give Monika more time to decide when to let go.
Finally realizing the bed is a more comfortable place to cuddle,
she stops holding on, letting her body slither away
as she moves to make room for me.
True to my word, I follow right behind,
my body chasing both her and the place
it feels most comfortable at the same time.
Soon enough, my head is resting on a pillow.
I turn onto my back and wait for her.
Monika immediately slides back over and lays her body
sideways against mine, leg soon resting over my leg,
one arm draped over my body, head tilted sideways on my chest.
My not-sore thumb hand immediately runs off to play in her hair,
as my sore-thumb hand goes strolling down her arm,
playing with the geese it suddenly finds there.
The Player: Aren't we more comfortable now?
Monika's voice sounds dreamy and far away.
Monika: Yes.
I use my arm to pull her head slightly towards me
as I sneak a brief scent of her hair,
still smells like strawberries and sunsets,
before gently kissing it and releasing it back
into its natural, relaxed state.
Monika gently squeezes me in response.
Monika: *muffled purrr*
Finally snuggled and entwined on her bed,
my own body begins to relax a tension
it didn't know it was holding onto.
It won't stay gone for long, though.
My voice sounds dreamy and slurred to my ears
as I begin to add another piece to my side
of Monika's biggest puzzle.
The Player: A few years after high school,
The Player: I ended up moving back in
The Player: with my parents, or my dad at least.
The Player: They divorced while I was in high school,
The Player: and I wasn't keen on moving in with my mom.
With her body relaxed and snuggled against me,
her voice floats her question casually into the air.
Monika: Why not?
*sigh*
The Player: Long story...well, maybe a short story...
The Player: but I don't want to talk about it right now.
Not wanting to talk about something,
especially something personal,
raises alarm bells in Monika her body can't hide.
Knowing the real me unfortunately means
my body continues talking to her, even when I stop.
Her reply is short but full of tension.
Monika: Ok.
Not wanting to disturb the mood, I try to use
my hand in her hair to gently steer her thoughts
away from the mystery and back to the story.
Thankfully, she follows my lead and doesn't press.
I continue.
The Player: Anyway...
The Player: I was in my old bedroom when I had
The Player: this really strange dream.
Despite being extra quiet,
I can tell she's listening intently.
The Player: I dreamt I stepped out of my apartment
The Player: and started walking down the street
The Player: because I thought I heard something.
The Player: At first, I thought it was music,
The Player: like a band playing live or maybe rehearsing.
The Player: But, as I kept walking,
The Player: it sounded more like it was just drums.
The Player: And it wasn't a soothing or easy rhythm;
The Player: it was a pounding, relentless beat.
That fine thread of tension reappears but for a different reason.
Monika's arm shakes as my thumb caresses it.
The Player: And it was coming from a two-story house
The Player: just down the street from me.
The Player: In fact, the closer I got,
The Player: the more I could tell it was coming
The Player: from one of the upstairs rooms.
The Player: Dream logic being what it is,
The Player: I knew what it meant:
The Player: somebody lived there.
I pause to collect my thoughts as my thumb
tries to soothe away the growing tension in her arm.
The Player: I vaguely remember what the house looked like:
The Player: all white, symmetrical, columns in the front.
The Player: But this I remember with such clarity:
The Player: purple shutters on the downstairs windows.
I can hear her breathing become shallow, labored,
as if it were suddenly struggling with a task, a weight
it didn't expect to bear.
The tension in her arm refuses to leave.
The Player: Even in the dream, I thought
The Player: the purple shutters seemed strange,
The Player: but I was mostly driven by those drums.
The Player: I HAD to find out where the sound was coming from.
Reliving the dream, my body remembers the urgency I felt then,
adding my tension to a room overflowing with it.
The only way out is through;
I continue.
The Player: I know I entered the house and started up the stairs,
The Player: but that's all the detail about the inside I know.
The Player: I could tell I was getting closer
The Player: because the drums were getting louder.
The Player: Soon enough, I was standing just outside a door,
The Player: only a few feet away from where I knew
The Player: the sound was coming from.
*pause*
The Player: That's when the drums suddenly stopped.
Silence speaks a thousand words.
The Player: And in that moment, I realized...
The Player: whoever was behind that door
The Player: suddenly knew I was there.
Monika is quiet, but her hand is gripping the sheet as tight as she can.
My own hand shakes as I run my thumb across her arm.
The Player: Just as quickly, as it is with dream logic,
The Player: I also knew who it was...
The Player: Emily Dickinson.
The Player: The dream and real world collided then.
The Player: My mind couldn't take the intensity,
The Player: the insanity of thinking it was her.
The Player: I flew back down the stairs
The Player: and woke up soon afterwards.
The tension is too much for her.
She raises her head to look at me,
struggling to speak, needing to see.
Monika: Baby...I...
I spend a few seconds swimming in her gaze,
trying to use my hand to quiet her animals.
Not knowing what else to say, she says nothing,
slowly lowering her head back down to my chest.
My fingers take their time exploring her strands,
climbing down to her scalp to gently dig there.
With both of us calm, for now, I know I can continue.
The Player: I remember waking up and thinking
The Player: just how strange a dream it was,
The Player: and how weird it felt to be awake.
The Player: The next day, I actually had to walk down the street
The Player: and see the spot where the house was,
The Player: just to prove to myself it was a dream.
The Player: It felt...
My mind is having trouble putting thoughts together.
The Player: strange...real...strangely real...
The Player: I don't know precisely how to describe it.
The Player: All I knew was that it was one dream
The Player: I was never going to forget.
I chuckle to myself.
Monika: What's so funny?
The Player: I knew, or thought I did, at the time
The Player: why I was never going to forget it:
The Player: that dream was near the start
The Player: of my Emily Dickinson obsession.
I wander a bit down fractured memory lane.
The Player: It's one of the reasons why I panicked,
The Player: in the dream, and basically scared myself awake.
The Player: I knew, deep down, I was beginning to get lost.
The Player: And I was definitely scared of where that could lead.
The Player: You see...
I pause, knowing if I wait...
Monika soon turns her head to look at me.
Monika: See what, baby?
"How can I forget you girl..."
The Player: Emily wasn't my first obsession...
The Player: someone else was.
I savor the moment as I gently stroke her cheek.
Monika's gaze dives deep into mine and waits
for me to finish, not sure what she's waiting for.
The Player: And it happened...
The Player: senior year of high school.