In the Awake

My eyes rocket open, my face wet and body shaking. All that I can see is the little white envelope that could rip my life apart. Eventually I crawl out of bed and drag myself to the door. As I settle down with my back to the door, panic wells up inside.

"No," I whisper. "No." My breath comes out in little spurts, as I realize I'm not where I thought. Hands touch the door with a hungry speed, and the world comes crashing in. Wood. Scratches. Not dents, not metal.

This is not my sturdy, comforting metal door back in my small room, back at my home. No, this is a door made entirely of wood. 

"I'm home," the memory of yesterday climbs back into view, and fear rises up again. I try to remember that the letter was just a dream. Or could it have been a vision?

Suddenly, all I want to do is rip this door down with my bare hands and throw it in a blazing bonfire. I didn't want this. I don't want everyone to step aside and let me back in as if I was never gone. I was gone. I'll be leaving before they know it. I don't belong in this room, Hugo's room. The girl that slept here once is long gone, replaced by someone my family won't understand. I should really be sleeping in the stables, until I return to my duties. Who said these people had to stop their lives for an on-again, off-again daughter?

If I could possibly get my hands on that prim and proper little letter, I'd rip it to pieces and toss it in the fire with the door.

Without warning, the door begins to feel as though it's burning my back, and I jump up and move away. I can almost hear it laughing at me. When will the other shoe drop?

Moving to my window, I can see that the sun is almost up. Running to my luggage I dig out my workout uniform. Time to take my portable therapist out on a run with me.

The End

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