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If I was lucky maybe I was asleep and this really was a dream. Dreams were so much better than reality. You could do anything impossible and entirely possible in your dreams. The word “No” had no power in dreams and that little tidbit quite obviously made dreams my favorite place.
Except when those dreams turned into nightmares of course.
Ignoring the buzzing in my purse, (the hospital was quite persistent I’ll give them that), I wiped the tears from my face and ignored the concerned glances the security guard was giving me. My Capri Sun was nearly empty now and I found myself inflating it and deflating it with my breath, watching the little pouch grow and shrink with each inhale and exhale.
The MET was my place to escape. The jungle gym for my demons and art-loving heart. I quite liked Monet’s lilies. Maybe I’d call it my favorite painting, if I was in the mood to give it a label.
Dragging my eyes away from the painted water plants, I do the thing I’ve been dreading and pull my phone out of my purse. The damn thing has finally stopped buzzing and I can't decide if that's a good thing or not. I scroll through the messages before deciding to click play on the most recent one. Pressing my phone to my ear I listen to the nurse's voice as it pours through the speaker into my waiting ears and my heart stops. The words pouring into my head breaking and shattering what was left of me.
No. No. No.
This can't be right. This nurse doesn't know what she's talking about. My cracked soul knows she must be wrong.
Because if she's right how will I ever be able to duct tape myself together?
Fear grips my heart.
I’d be alone and I’d die from her absence in my life.
The tears are back again, flowing freely down my cheeks, and I know for a fact that the security guard is only seconds away from approaching me. I need to get out of here. But I don't want to run. I don't want to be a Levingston anymore. I want to grow roots and stay long enough for a city to remember me. I want to make an impression that lasts more than five seconds before running from feelings that threaten to tear me apart.
And now they were going to take her from me. This broken endless world was going to claim my mother's soul like it was theirs for the taking.
I’m sorry but that's fucked up.
My feet are already moving, my checkered sneakers squeaking on the museum's freshly polished wood.
Monet's water lilies forgotten.
Tears blind my vision as I make my way across the floor and I can hardly see where I’m going. I turn the corner only to be shocked when two hands roughly wrap around my wrists. Trapping me. A surprised scream escapes my lips before a hand claps down on my mouth and I squirm against my captor before kicking out with all my might.
It was happening again. I was being taken. Against my will.
Again.
Fuck was with this city and strangers wanting to steal me?
“Stop fighting me.” The words are grunted into my ear and I still as the familiar vibrato sinks into my skin and grips my heart, squeezing until all the blood rushes to my head and I can't think. I turn my head and am assaulted with the familiar sight of dark eyes.
His dark eyes.
The ones that kill me and save me with a single glance.
“Kaleb,” I whisper, and my voice breaks. At the tone, Kaleb’s arms tighten around me, and I’m forced to face him. Noticing the tears streaming down my face, his hands cup my cheeks before wiping away the dirty mess.
“What - what are you doing here?” I ask as he continues to wipe away my tears, his brow crunched in concentration.
“I think the better question is what are you doing here Blondie?” My hands clench and I crush the Capri Sun in my hand, having forgotten I was still holding it. The nurse's words are in a loop in my mind and I don't realize I’m shaking until Kaleb grabs my hands, stilling me.
I’m always on the brink of falling apart whenever I’m in his arms, he cracks me open in his presence and my heart has no choice but to bleed around him. He makes me weak and yet I can't stop the words pouring from my mouth, the fear eating away at my darkness like moths.
“It's my mom. He wants her dead. He wants to take her from me and today...today he almost did.” The words are choked and broken and Kaleb pulls me closer at the sound of them, wrapping his arms fully around my waist.
I can't make out his expression and I find myself for the millionth time wishing I could read his twisted thoughts. Decode the mind behind the author of the black journal. I tell him the rest of what the nurse told me. How my mother was injured at the hospital, how the nurses tried to heal her but she lost a lot of blood and it wasn't looking good. I tell him how it was all my fault and his eyes darken at my confession regarding the paintings. Against my better judgment I leave out Uncle John, I didn't want to tie Kaleb to my enemies.
These were my demons and they were mine to slay.
I just need to find a sword strong enough to destroy them.
