《Rifts in the Weave》098
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November 1, 2020 - Nolan Acreage, Outside Nevada, Iowa
She awakened with a choking scream, the sound caught in her throat and unable to escape. Her heart was thundering in her chest, pounding against the bars of her ribcage as though it were trying to escape. A cold sweat drenched her, her curling hair was matted against her head. She was tangled in the sheets, held tightly by the twisted linens. It felt like something was writhing inside her eye, it felt like a ball of snakes fighting for dominance.
She couldn’t catch her breath.
It took a moment for her vision to clear, she blinked sweat and tears out of her eyes. The room swam slowly into focus, the familiar shapes of her childhood surrounding her. Whips and swirls of strange blue-white writhed in her sight, changing the shape of her surroundings. Familiar furniture seemed to breathe in the darkness. Those strange blue-white lines gave no light despite their searing brightness, the darkness of the room was broken only by the light of the full moon shining through the gap in the curtains.
She couldn’t catch her breath.
Her chest felt tight where her heart rattled at its cage, her lungs strained for air. She rolled from the bed, thudding to the floor, scrambling to her feet. Heaving chest, wild eyes, pounding heart. She searched the room. The familiar confines suddenly strange and filled with twisting ropes. Hesitantly, she reached out to one of the blue-white strands.
It was like touching a live wire.
Every hair on her body stood straight and her muscles felt rigid as something swept through her, leaving numbness in its wake. Suddenly, breathing was easier. The energy drained as swiftly as it had come on, leaving behind only the numbness.
There was a brisk knock on the door before Rock let himself in. He was wearing pajama bottoms, but he didn’t look like he had been sleeping. His blond hair was mussed and his blue eyes looked tired. As he moved through it, the strands ebbed and flowed around him, swirling out of his way, caressing him gently before retreating.
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She frowned, eyes unfocused as she watched the strands.
“Are you alright? I thought I heard a thump.” Rock stayed near the doorway, stalling as her expression intensified.
“Can’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?” He wanted to step forward, but there was something about the way she stood, haloed by the light of the full moon through the window and with her curling hair in disarray around her head. She was poised, up on the balls of her feet, muscles tensed, prepared for something.
Her voice sounded thick and sleepy. “It’s like fire inside.” Her right hand, roped with those purplish scars, reached out toward him, plucking at something he couldn’t see. “No.” She shook her head slowly, “Not fire.” Her eyes narrowed, the scarred one catching the glow of the moon as she shook her head again. “Like sour and mint.”
“What?” He took a step and her eyes shot to one side as though tracking something as it moved through the space between them.
“Like licking lemons.” She trailed off, her hand brushing at the air like brushing the hair back from someone else’s face. “Or batteries.” As she said it, a shudder went through her and her hair seemed to move in a breeze that touched nothing else.
“Jes, you’re not making any sense.”
Her crooked smile flashed for a moment and finally her odd eyes met his. One golden brown and the other a brilliant purple with no pupil. “Does anything?” The smile disappeared and she frowned, “Are we awake or dreaming?” Her head tilted to one side and her expression became almost unreadable. “Am I dead? Did I die in the accident?” Again her hand moved strangely, as though touching something only she could see. “I’m in a coma. None of this is real.”
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He closed the last of the distance between them, wrapping her up in his arms. “I wish it was a dream. A nightmare.” He murmured as he hugged her tightly.
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