Life is a dream dancing at the tip of a leaf called time, and we are the creator of our own imagination. We plan our lives according to a dream that came to us in our childhood, and we find that life alters our plans. And yet, in the end, from a rare height, we also see that our dream was our fate.
Rivers of water stream down the window, forging clean paths that lead to nowhere. I watched her playing out of the back garden, mouth open in the rain, laughing, screeching, uncaring, and I was envious. It always seems to be raining, sometimes harder than others.
I cannot remember the last time I felt warmth, the last time my vision was not hazy and blurred. Flower petals, heavy with water, bow to her laughter, and birds clean their feathers in the useful puddles on the path, before satiating their hunger on the offerings thrown up by the wet weather.
The sound of rain echoed in my ears as I watched her dance in the beauty of the rain. The air was still, as the wind had died down and the atmosphere was calm and tranquil, yet the tension was so high, and I was filled with anxiety.
I observed her, dancing, jumping, and spinning around in the wet; her hair slowly becoming heavier and heavier with each drop of rain being soaked by her hair. Pacing to her side, I took her hand and looked into her eyes. She looked back, smiling, and eagerly hopping on the spot.
I looked to the sky. Then back to her, where she continued to smile and began to dance on the spot; and I could not help myself, but take a step back, and watch her smiling and having fun.
The rain began to pour down heavier now, and the moment had seemed to be lost as if the joy had been washed away with the turning tides.
Quickly, I flew to her side, where she took refuge close to my body. Her body began to shiver, and I could feel how cold her skin had turned, and how blue her lips had become.
I held her waist, and slowly rocked back and forth. But by now, the rain had eased back into a sheet of softly falling rain; more a mist than anything else.
Her shivering had eased, and her lips returned to their natural colour. She stared into my eyes, and I stared back. She twisted her arms around me, and slowly brought me to her face.
I could feel her heart pound against my chest, and her wet eyelashes brush up against mine…I felt her arms around me loosen their grip on me, yet at the same time, they seemed to hold on tighter.
I felt the sky open up, and the grip of reality pull me back to what was real; leaving me standing in the wet, watching her spin around in the soft rain.
The rain washed away her faults, and she seemed perfect for a moment. Her smile beamed through the dark sky, and I slowly became asphyxiated as she stole away the air and replaced it with this substance that left me so anxious, yet so calm and tranquil.
I snapped up and looked around. I was in my room, in my bed, the sheets twisted around me. It had only been a dream, but it had felt so real.
I ran my hand down my clothes to check if they were wet, but they were still dry. I sucked in my breath when I felt something scabbing over my leg, but I will not look at it. It had only been a dream.
But I could still feel the hot breath against my skin. It was only a dream, I told myself slowly, then I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. The blue eyes seemed glued in my memory, just a dream I told myself, again and again, hoping that once I may start to believe it.