I wrote this as a junior in high school so I was either 16 or 17. It was part of a vocabulary assignment. We had a list of words we had to use in the story, so if a word choice seems odd that is why. Maybe another Thursday I'll post my updated one were I got rid of some of the vocab words. Hope you enjoy!
Almost Sleeping
Vocabulary story
The
sunlight glittered off the gentle, cascading waterfall. His mystical, bright
blue eyes latched onto mine. Even as the land of enchantment around us began to
deteriorate, his eyes stuck with me. Even as I drifted in that area of
semi-consciousness, his eyes remained embedded in my mind. Then I was yanked
from this realm by my annoying alarm clock. It was 6:30. Great! It’s time to
get up.
As I went
on with my insipid morning routine, for some unknown reason I became very
distracted, disoriented almost. By the time I was ready, my dad was gone and my
mom was waiting, rather impatiently.
“Okay,
okay, I’m ready.” I said, grabbing my bags for school. In the car, I was
overcome with this gut-wrenching, almost prophetic, need to put my seatbelt on.
I invariably do not wear my seatbelt to school because I live right across the
street, but I succumbed and as we backed out the safety belt was hugging my
body gently.
I remember
pulling out of our driveway talking to my mom about how exalted I was about
getting Homecoming Court.
Then I was blinded by this bright, white light. I felt my entire body jerk.
Now, I’m here in this black room. It’s not really a room because as far as I
can tell there are no walls. It’s more of a nothingness, an abyss.
“It doesn’t
have to be.” I heard a voice and for some curious reason I felt my heart jump.
It was a guy’s voice.
“Hello?” I
called. “Who are you? Where are you? Where am I?”
“So many
questions.” A boy about 15, my age, jumped out in front of me. “That’s just
like you.” As his familiar eyes caught mine, the darkness faded away, replaced
by a familiar scene. He smiled. When I finally managed to pull my eyes away
from his angelic visage and look around, I realized I was back in my dream from
this morning.
“Am I
asleep?” I asked, stepping away from the boy and inspecting my surroundings
with a discerning eye.
“Not
exactly,” He answered, “but close.”
I tried to
repress my panic but I was loosing the battle quickly. I turned around and scrutinized
the boy. He seemed amiable enough.
“What do
you mean ‘not exactly’?” Then a morbid thought overcame me. “What do you mean
‘close’?”
“I mean
you’re in a comma, which is kind of like sleeping, in that you’re stuck in your
subconscious,” he gestured to the world around us, “like when you’re sleeping.”
I suddenly
became incredibly dizzy. I muttered an “Oh, God.” Put my hand on my head and
fell back against a rock.
“Are you
okay?” the boy asked.
I was
suddenly unbelievably indignant.
“And who are
you?” I snapped.
He seemed
slightly apprehensive as he revealed his identity. “I’m Johnny Adams, your
dream guy.” I gave a little chuckle. He grimaced as if I had slapped him, but
then he seemed to lose his compassion and matched my anger.
“What’s up with
you?” He mimicked my loathing attitude perfectly.
“Are you
kidding me?” I looked at him as if he was the one who had lost his sanity. “Oh
well, I’m sorry if I’m being a bit callous but you’ll have to forgive me. I
just found out that I’ve gone crazy posthumously!”
“Well, you
always wanted to do something unprecedented.” We just glared at each other for
a moment then he broke the silence. “Oh, Taylor,
quit being so melodramatic. You haven’t gone crazy posthumously because you’re
not dead.”
“Meaning
I’ve just gone crazy, much better.” Then something dawned on me. “How do you
know my name?”
“I’m a
figment of your imagination, smart one.” He said emphatically but I could tell his
anger had left him. “I’m in your head. I know everything you know, nothing
more, nothing less.”
I walked
away from him saying, “This isn’t plausible. It’s unconceivable.”
For an answer
I got a disembodied voice. “ ‘The Unkind Bee’ ” My mom’s voice. “ ‘I was out in
the garden…’ ” It was an excerpt from my favorite poem.
“What’s
going on?” I asked Johnny. He gave a sympathetic smile. “You can still hear
when you’re in a comma.” He hadn’t spoke but I knew somehow he had helped me
with the answer
“ ‘Smelling
a rose, …’ ” My mom’s voice again. A storm cloud covered the sun. As a raindrop
fell from my eye, a tear fell from the cloud. “ ‘When a great big bee/ Stuck
his sting in my nose…’ ”
“What do I
do?” I turned to Johnny for the answer. “I want to see her.”
“ ‘It was
very unkind-’ ”
“Please.”
The word dripped with desperation.
“ ‘As
unkind as could be-’ ”
Johnny’s
face showed he had an idea.
“ ‘When I
didn’t hurt him,…’ ”
“Please” I
repeated. It was pouring now.
“ ‘For that
bee to sting me.’ ”
“Honey?” My
dad’s voice.
“I might
know a way.” Johnny got up from the rock he had sat on during the continuing
storm.
“What are
you doing?” Dad.
Johnny came
into proximity to me and gently lifted my powerless hand into his.
“I’m
reading to Taylor.”
Mom.
Johnny’s
breath warmed my ear. “This world around us is very malleable. You have the
power to change it.” He whispered.
“Sweet
heart.” Dad’s tone brought more tears to my eyes.
Johnny’s
breath warmed my ear again. “Imagine what they are doing. Close your eyes. See
them.”
“She loves
this poem. She can recite it verbatim, by memory.” Mom was determined.
“She can’t
hear you.” Dad’s voice sounded closer. I opened my eyes and gasped. I heard
Johnny laugh. I looked him in the eye and found myself smiling.
“Yes, she
can.” My mom was saying. I broke apart from Johnny and turned my eyes onto the
hospital room I was now standing in. I saw my dad standing up and looking down
at my mom sympathetically. My mom sat in a chair next to the bed with my
tattered copy of Runaway Rhymes in her hand.
“This is
ineffectual.” My dad tried to persuade my mom.
Then my eyes turned to the bed, my
bed. I saw me lying on the bland sheets customary to hospitals, tubes going in
and out of me, machines surrounding me.
“Oh, God.” I gasped, terrified at
what I saw. “I look so… wan.”
“Well, you’re in a comma; you don’t
get much sun here.” Johnny joked.
“It’s not funny.” I said.
“She can hear me” My mom began
talking again. She opened the battered book and read. “ ‘There was plenty of
room/ In the heart of that rose…’ ” The hospital scene faded away… “ ‘For a
rather large bee/ And a very small nose.’ ”
We were back at the waterfall. The
storm had stopped but the area still reeked of gloom. I had regained my
composure.
“You know that wasn’t real, right?”
Johnny said. I spun around and stared at him. “What they said was but what you
saw was what you imagined was happening.” He sat on the same rock he had
earlier.
“So, I can’t really see them.” He
sadly shook his head. I went and sat next to him.
“Honestly, I’m surprised you
imagined so much negative stuff and not anything positive.” He had regained his
pompous air. “I always thought you were an optimist.”
I smiled. Yes, I actually smiled.
What is it about this guy?
“Hello!” He knocked on my head
softly. “I’m your dream guy.”
“Hey!” I said, pushing his hand away.
“Stay out of my thoughts.”
“I am your thoughts.” He laughed.
“All right then what ‘positive’
stuff do you think I should have imagined.” I was trying to change the subject.
Talking to your dream guy is a little weird.
“Uh-huh, trying to change the subject
I see.” He laughed again.
“Stop doing that.” I snapped then
laughed myself.
“Well, to answer your question.
Flowers.” He said
“Flowers?” I was lost in the mixing
subjects.
“You could have, should have
imagined flowers in your hospital room.” He clarified.
“Why do you think I’d have flowers
in my room?” I questioned.
“Now you’re kidding me, right? You
have like a million friends.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes
jokingly. “I’m just a crazy vegetable. Why would anyone want to be my friend?”
Johnny got up from our rock.
“Maybe because when you’re conscious
you have no contempt for others, you’re never condescending. Maybe they’d be
your friend because you’re ethical, you’re vibrant. It could be because you’re
whimsical.-”
“That’s a
good thing?” I interrupted.
“Yes, it
is. Who likes a Plain Jane? It could be because at times, and I’ll give it to
you that it’s not all the time, not even most of the time but, on occasion
you’re judicious. You are a mentor to many. You have tons of charisma.-”
“Okay,
okay.” I rose from the rock and grabbed his hands he had been gesturing wildly
with. We laughed together.
“Face it,
beautiful; you are among the elite of human kind.” I was blushing as he bent
down and kissed me. My insides melted and my knees buckled. Johnny caught me in
his arms, laughing.
“I don’t
know what to say.” I whispered, resting my head on his chest.
“You
inarticulate? Never!” His breath warmed my ear again. I gently pulled myself
away from him so I could look into his eyes. I felt myself start to drift away.
“Don’t fight it.” He whispered. “Don’t be scared.”
The
sunlight glittered off the gentle, cascading waterfall. His mystical, bright
blue eyes latched onto mine. Even as the land of enchantment around us began to
deteriorate, his eyes stuck with me. Even as I drifted in that area of
semi-consciousness, his eyes remained embedded in my mind. Then I was yanked
from this realm. I found myself in a hospital room similar to the one I had
imagined, less tubes, more flowers. I laughed.
My mom quickly
took notice and called a nurse. All the ruckus my mom and dad were causing
called a lot of attention to my room. Through all the faces, I noticed a boy
candy striper in the doorway. As his mystical, bright blue eyes met mine, he
smiled.
