Next Stop: Everywhere

I sat down on a cold bench beside the road and slipped my ukulele out of its case. I strummed the four strings, making sure it was still in tune, and proceeded to form some chords. I saw a young woman in a flowery skirt walking towards me; I decided to serenade her. "I took a stroll down Broadway, Oh, meaning not long for to stay. When who should I meet but this pretty fair maid, Come a-traipsing along the highway." She slowed, glancing at me. I smiled at her. She smiled back. This was good. "She was both fair and handsome, Her neck it was just like a swan's. And her hair, it hung over her shoulder, Tied up with a black velvet band." She tilted her head at me curiously. I wondered why for a moment before realising that her dark hair was, indeed, pulled back into a bun with a black band. I grinned. Of course she wouldn't know that I was performing an old folk song. She beamed at me, probably thinking I was improvising the song. ...

The sun was shining, the day warm and bright. I walked up the stone steps and our eyed met. Her mouth broke open in a wild grin, and she ran towards me, her blonde curls bouncing behind her. I planted one leg firmly behind me, braced for impact, and threw my arms out to catch her. She collided into me and I wrapped my arms around her, nestling my face into the crook of her neck, and she squeezed me like no one else ever could. We stepped back and looked into each other's eyes. Hers were an icy blue, fluorescent and inviting like ice cream on a hot day. We smiled at each other; nothing else in the world mattered in this moment. It was just me and her, and the crowd of people around us. She took my hand and pulled me along behind her, and I marched quickly along, barely keeping pace. As we approached the building, she threw her arms around me, laying her head on my shoulder. She was all I really needed. We climbed the stairs and we walked down the aisle and we took our seats...

Moonlight filtered in through the thin blinds, dimly illuminating the small room. I lay there in my cold bed, my eyes wide open. I knew I had to sleep...but with sleep came the dreams. It was too much. I didn't know how to handle them. It was as though another world was trying to reach out to me. Like a world long since forgotten. I wanted to close my eyes and rest, but I was so scared. Scared of what I might see on the backside of my eyelids. I was scared quite often these days. I wasn't sure of anything. I had no idea what I was doing, what purpose my life held. I used to have people to hold onto, who gave my life meaning, but now it felt like I was all alone. I was terrified. My eyes began to water. No. I demanded just one dry-eyed night. I squeezed them shut, and instantly felt an invisible hand lay on my head. "Don't be scared." I uttered a soft gasp. I'm not sure why. It's not like I hadn't expected to hear voices. ...

I laid down, the tears dripping from my cheeks speckling my pillow. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to forget the world around me. I shook silently in the dark. What happened? I never wanted this. I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I flinched away, hiding my face. "Please don't cry," came a voice as sweet and smooth as vanilla tea. I opened my swollen eyes, for I did not recognise the voice now trying to comfort me. I was shocked—hadn't I just been in my dark room? And yet there I lay in a grassy field, the sun shining down on me as a spring breeze danced merrily with the wildflowers. And then my eyes met those of the woman in front of me. She was tall and slender, clad in a dress of emerald silk. Her auburn hair fell in elegant braids around her pointed ears. And her eyes were the colour of honey, gorgeous orbs of warmth that I wanted nothing more than to dive into and be safe from all harm. She smiled at me, her thin lips curling up so regally at ...

I was running. Tall, slender columns of darkness rushed past me on either side as I scrambled frantically through the dense underbrush, leaping over fallen logs. A thick fog veiled my vision; I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to run. Whatever it was, it was right behind me. I could hear the bestial growling, unlike anything I'd ever heard before, except I had. It snarled, and I had to fight the terror that tried to paralyse my limbs. I don't know what it wanted to do with me, but judging by the sounds it was making, I had heavy doubts that it would be a pleasant experience. The fog parted and I found myself coming up on a stone wall. It stretched out farther than I could see in both directions, and if I stopped, I was dead. I had to jump. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, ducked as low to the ground as possible, and kicked off with all my might. I soared into the air, more than twenty feet--had I always been able to jump so high? The ground...

His eyes were like deep, endless seas of stormy blue, big and beautiful, staring back at me. It's true what they say—the eyes really are the windows to the soul. No matter how hard he tried to seem stone-hard to the world around him, his eyes gave him away. He was hurting. I could feel the emotion coming through, feel his sadness and desperation. I smiled softly. "Hello again." He frowned at me, his face saying heartless, but his eyes saying hurting. "Why are you here?" he asked me. "It's been a while," I said. His eyes enthralled me. "I don't want to talk to you," he said trying to look away. But something kept his face pointed at mine. "I'm only here to help," I whispered. I reached out my hand, but he stopped it with his own. "I don't want your help," he growled. "You've hurt me more than anybody else." "Don't say that," I said, eyes watering. ...

I opened my eyes. The room was cold and dark, yet I was drenched in sweat. I sat up, breathing heavily. I'd been having the dreams again. They quickly escaped my mind as I became more and more conscious of my surroundings. The sound of rain pittering on the roof; wind shuffling through tree branches; the soft hum of the heater spinning--they all filled my ears with the familiar sounds of night. It was so quiet, so serene, yet one panicked word flashed in my mind. Canonica . I had no idea what this meant. But it repeated like a broken record player in my head. The rest of the dream was a blur of unfamiliar faces, screams and flashes of light, but that word stuck with me. It was maddening, to so clearly hear a word in your mind, like someone whispering it right into your ear, and yet to have no idea what it meant. Canonica. Canonica. Canonica. I grabbed my phone, the screen lighting up to tell me the time. It was one in the morning. Again. I always woke up at one. Always...