The water was still, even though there were people everywhere. That was how I first knew it was a dream, even though that realisation was pushed to the back of my mind where I could barely  reach it. I was in the hotel, and I could feel the concrete under my feet as I walked along, around to the bridge. On the opposite side, in the water, there were unfamiliar faces, yet I knew them all. There was one I knew more than the others. This face was very familiar indeed.
                This was Jack. This was the guy I was ‘on a break’ with. Which really meant that he still thought we were together and I was as desperately in love with him as he was with me.

                Being away from him for over a week – having not seen him before I came here – and not having any other meaningful male attention, I was delighted to see him. His features seemed softer, his pale skin and pale blonde hair reflecting the sunlight so much he seemed to be glowing.
                He took my hand as I stepped into the water, and onto the ledge, before lowering myself to sit on it, and snuggling up towards him. There were moments like this one, beyond my fantasy world, where I felt like there was nothing else in the world, and that it could be this way forever. When there wasn’t a time like this, as I had realised by being away, I know better than that.

                Other people seemed to materialise away, and we were just talking, even though that was just a blur of words. Suddenly his face became angrier, and the words snapped clear and sharp. My heart thumped hard and with a fast pace. I’d said something again. But it wasn’t me! I didn’t know what was going on!
                I edged backwards, waiting for him to start. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice sounded like a rumbling thunder, a hurricane driving towards me. “How can you even think like that? Fucking slut!” His choice of words hit me like a brick wall.
ever, had he said anything like that seriously meant for insulting. That they were directed upon me had caught me completely off guard. I had no comeback. So I sat and took more verbal abuse spouting from his lips. They were often repetitive, but this did not lessen the blow.

                “Why?!” I shouted at him. I hadn’t realised that I was crying. I had been bawling my eyes out. As soon as I spoke, and I heard the distress in my voice that was breaking, I started hyperventilating. Jack was still stood there, expression not changed. He still looked unexplainably cruel, and started laughing at me.
                I started to cry harder, and breathe faster after that, than I already was. I tried to get away, but he held onto my wrist with a grip like pincers. As hard as I pulled away, the strength in his hold increased. I began to scream, filled with fury and desperation. I wanted to get away from him so badly it was unreal.
Real. This wasn’t real.

                My eyes opened. I felt my breathing slow down to a normal pace. I unclenched my fists that were balling up the duvet, and wriggled my fingers to loosen them. Stretching out my legs, and rolling onto my back, I took deep breaths with my eyes closed. My movements made me realise how hot my body was, and how much I'd been sweating. Reaching my hands up to my face, I felt that my cheeks were wet. I’d been crying in reality aswell. It was morning, and James was already running around the end of my bed. “Morning Lyss!” He said cheerfully.
                I felt exhausted.

The End

14 comments about this story Feed