[4th] Week 315 :: Boulevard of Broken Dreams

[Nutella]

Boulevard of Broken Dreams​ “For the first time, you seem to be the one approaching me,” a wheezy voice spoke from the depths of my mind, his words drifting on my consciousness that barely hung by the thread. “It’s been a while.” It had the fondness of a close friend, but with the vileness of a demon. It was an unexplainable feeling, really, and I could not help but to wonder about this voice. A slight groan escaped my lips as I shifted from my position and instinctively wrapped my arms around this one beside me. I tried to dismiss it as a mere part of my imagination, perhaps subconsciously as I drifted back to deeper sleep. “Oh come on. You’ve missed this,” the voice came again, now with an unbelievable tone that almost sought to challenge me. “Hnnnnn... noooo, I did not,” I mumbled sleepily and drowsily raised my arm, waving in the air. “Go away,” I came again, my hands moving in a shooing motion on an invisible entity that perhaps talked to me from the side of the bed. “Oh yes, yes you did.” Without seeing him, it was as though I saw the shadow of a smile hidden behind the words. With my eyes closed, it was as if I could imagine a small man, with black, empty eyes gleaming of utter mischief and armed with a self-satisfied grin. “I did not. Let me sleeeeep,” the complaint went through my lips, subconsciously as my eyebrows furrowed out of annoyance. Oh, of all the things that would keep me up awake at night! It was the worst thing that I could perhaps encounter. You know, someone playing mind games at the wee hours of the morning? “Oh yes. I bet you enjoyed being a participant of the World Tournament. The blood pumping in your veins, the rush of adrenaline on your body, the erratic beating of your heart... don’t tell me you didn’t like it. You did. You even accepted that black fire like it was a welcome companion... Kokuryuha, is it?” By now, I could vaguely imagine an impish man walking about, a diminutive creature made of skin and bones. I have completely no idea where I was able to pick up a visual, and how I was able to attribute this voice to such an atrocity, but it was something I found curiously queer. “Besides, you’ve enjoyed the idea of the world being hit by lightning. What do you mean you didn’t like the Tournament? You’re such a hypocrite. I bet you liked the whole idea of growing a metal forest and electrocuting it.” Silence was my immediate response, perhaps accompanied only by a vexed ‘humph’. It was all a part of the courses of action expected of her. I could have done worse, but those were among the only things I found acceptable as fighting strategies. I did not like blood in my blade, nor did I like leaving bruises and broken bones with my hands and feet. Not that I actually had the potential for such destruction, really. In actuality, half of me refused to play along with the Tournament, but it was, at least, expected of me. You know, to actually fight? “Shut uppp,” was my whiny reply to his incessant provocation, now visibly annoyed with the situation. “Go away,” I mumbled on as my hands made the same shooing motion in the air. It was at that precise moment that I felt my body being rocked, though not in the caliber of an earthquake. More like something or someone shook my body a bit. “Oh yes, yes, you really loved it!” I could feel the excitement in his voice, the clasping of his hands and the cheshire cat grin that stretched wider-- as though it would rip his skin, to be more precise. “Come on, you like being close to death. You even chose to see it everyday! Oh what joy your four hundred years has been. It’s the most exciting so far. Now, the feeling of wanting to be close became mutual. This is a really surprising turn of events.” A cackle escaped him, his eyes garnering a wicked glint. “Nooo shut upppp,” I whined further, shaking my head in utter defiance. Who in hell would actually want to be close to death? The idea was as absurd as saying ‘I want to die’ with shiny smiles and a completely enthusiastic expression, as though rejoicing the blessings of life in that manner. “Oh yes. Let me in, Ansherina. Let me in. Or let me out, if that works better. I bet we can have a beautiful relationship. Why don’t you tell Chun?” Now, he only resounded utter stupidity. Relationship? What relationship? Who is this and why is this creature speaking as though I was missing something entirely crucial to this conversation, perhaps the fragment of a memory, or something I must have repressed because, let me be frank, this creature is entirely annoying. Was he my third wheel, or something? As far as I could remember, I had no such affair ever since I had entered into a marital relationship with someone infinitesimally more pleasant than this nuisance of a man. “Nooo, I will not. Stop bugging me!” Unbeknownst to me, my voice had become louder, more defined and more convicted. “I do not like your company. Away, creature. Away! I am trying to sleep!” I could hear someone calling my name. Soft and distant, one that I wanted to respond to. But what if it was secretly the other side of this monster that he flashed so he could bait me into answering more substantially? No, I am not going to waste the rest of my early morning listening to the drama queen affairs of this creature. I am exhausted and will be exhausted many times over if I did not get this sleep. The recent Tournament seemed to have an adverse effect on my body in general, and that much already bugged my mind. The slight body pains reappeared at night, I felt hot, I felt my body as though it was made of brittle fragments, and it felt horrible. Even the nippy nights that I spend cuddling with my husband gave me new reasons to want a hug. Slight pulses of pain around my body, nothing too big, but the episodes were startling. Surely, it was not from the wounds that I have received in the Tournament. Or was it? I could not clearly define the origin of this pain, yet this little creature claimed that I liked it. I am not masochistic, and I clearly do not like this! “Ansherina? Ansherina!” The voice came again, now accompanied by slight taps to my cheek and a slight shaking of my body. I groaned painfully as I resisted this call. “Nooo, stop it...” It continued on and on, until the point that my eyes snapped open just so I could see the origin of this atrocity out of utter annoyance. I was surprised to see my husband’s deep orchid eyes staring back at me, with a mess of tousled brown hair atop his head. “Sheri, are you okay?” I felt his hand brush against my forehead, showing the wisps of hair that wandered to my eyes. “Huh?” I muttered bewilderedly and prompted myself to look around. A mosaic lamp stood at our bedside table, and beyond that, an entire bookshelf filled with books, with random gaps between some. Peppin, our gorgeous dog with the beautiful golden fur, stared back at me as he sat at the side of the bed, head cocked at the side. At the corner of a room, there was a table topped with books and notes, obviously left unfinished for tomorrow’s continuance. Our family photos hung in the walls, complete in nine block panels. I was fairly certain that I was in our room. This scenery, along with that of my husband being here, was as concrete as it could ever be. “Are you okay?” He repeated, his sleepy eyes still squinting at me. “I heard you muttering and arguing with someone.” My silvery eyes shifted around, probing the room of any signs of a diminutive bony man with an annoying grin. None, and the room was as normal as it could be. “I seemed to be?” I replied with a lack of conviction, thoroughly confused by my own situation. “There was uhhhhh someone. Small and creepy-looking creature. He was going on about random things. Was there someone in here?” Gently, I could see the blank confusion in his eyes. He was probably just as confused as I am. “It’s probably a dream,” he finally vocalized both our thoughts and held me close, pulling me into a tight embrace. “A bad one, but just a dream,” Chun reassured me, slightly patting my back. “Go back to sleep, I’m sure it’ll be fine in the morning.” With a smile, he kissed me in the forehead and reclined back on the bed. With a drowsy nod, I retired back to my position before I was abruptly awakened. The ticking of the clock resounded on the room, no cheery voices from the two bumbling bundles of joy outside our door, and no dog cajoled me into giving him food. Nope, it was not an appropriate time to wake up. I cozied towards my husband and slept with my arms around his waist, and his around the entirety of my body. There was still silence, the supposed silence of a peaceful night. It was not until I was falling deeper into the stages of sleep that I heard that voice once more. [FONTCambria][/FONT]“I am not just a dream.” 1,614 words​