Streams of Consciousness

Escape

        "Hudson!" she gasped, quickly standing up from my bed and turning her head.

        "Please, let me see your face," I said, sitting up. I put a hand on her shoulder. She pulled away from my grasp, and started walking to the door.

        "You know I can't let you see me... it's against the rules... I should not be here while you are awake! It's 2:00 in the morning!" she said, stopping at the door with her hand on the knob.

        "Please! I don't know who I am! I don't know who you are! I'm tired of being alone, and being trapped, and waiting at the door just to see a glimpse of a shoe!" I exclaimed. She sighed, and I could hear her silent sobs, diamonds sliding down her cheeks and onto the carpet.

        "I didn't mean to make you cry again! I wanted you to stop crying... you asked to see me awake, and here I am," I told her, stepping closer to her. She slowly turned towards me. My room was dark, but I could see that her hair was draped over her right eye, and there was a sliver of moonlight like a veil over her face.

        "Please... step closer. Let me see your face. I've dreamt of you and I, together. A room with lights around the roof, and posters on the wall. Watching cartoons for hours at a time. Or in the rain, dancing, each of us soaked, but neither caring, because we had the warmth of the other. And the ghost of a kiss, the taste of strawberry..." I said, and stepped closer to her.

        "I... I don't know what you are talking about," she said, taking a step back, her tears a waterfall.

        "Please... you have to know! You are the only memory that feels real!" I said, grabbing her hand, and pulling her to me. I grabbed her chin, and looked into her eyes. They were also green, but a soft green. I saw life in her eyes, renewal, I saw harmony, safety, and lastly I saw youth. Looking into those eyes, all my anxiety left me, the depression of the past few months was no more, and I was no longer nervous. I pressed my lips against her own, and waited for the spark, the fire. But it was cold, loveless, and empty. The words of the lady came to me once more. Your love is nothing to me. You make me feel empty. At first you were a fire, burning my heart bright, but now you are an ember on a concrete slab, cold and ready to drift in the wind, to crumble into nothing! As I pulled away, I was left with the taste of lemon: sour, bitter, and harsh.

        "I don't know what you are talking about! Me and you, you and I! It never happened. All you know about me is that I came into your room while you were in a coma! That's it!" she screamed at me.

        "But the room, the rain! It was real!" I said frantically.

        "All it was, was stories I read to you! Stories I came up with! Teen romances and comedies! None of it was real!" she said.

        "Why did you say all that stuff about missing me and you being too traumatic for me?" I asked.

        "Because the doctor could tell that my stories were affecting you! He said that if you found out it wasn't real, you would not develop properly. It was all acting..." she said, taking another step away from me.

        "No no no! It had to be real! It just had to!" I cried, falling to my knees.

        "I have to go now," she said, opening the door.

        "Would you leave the door open? Please? Let me leave this place! They don't need me anymore! It's torture staying here and doing nothing!" I exclaimed.

        "...Fine. As long as you get far away from me, and from the doctor. You don't belong here. You don't really belong anywhere... maybe you can find yourself out there..." she said, and left, leaving the door open just a crack.