Jane |18+| ✔️

36. The time I was seduced by a Dream

Jane

I'm not the strongest swimmer, but I can definitely hold my own—however, I feel as if I'm drowning at this moment. Drowning on dry land, without a lick of water nearby aside from the untouched glass of water on the table next to me. It wobbles, like me, as I grasp the wooden edge for balance. "Jane!" Mom rushes to my side to help me from falling over.

Grasping for air, my head feels so light and yet so heavy. "That's it! We're going to the hospital," she looks at dad, who is just as panic-stricken.

"No. No, I'm just tired. Go to work, and I'll rest—"

"Like hell!" Mom cusses, wrapping her arm around my waist. "Something is wrong and—"

"I'm fine. Just dehydrated and overwhelmed, as Dad had said." Forcing a smile, I try to sound and look unfazed that my entire being is falling apart. "Go. I'll call you later." For good measure, I kiss my mom's cheek and straighten, happy to see my legs are stronger than they feel. "Go," I laugh, shoving my mom's lunch box and shoulder bag in her hands.

"Walter?" Mom looks at dad, who's watching me with his eagle eye. Pouring on the charm, I smile more and reach for the back door.

"I'm good. If I need you, I'll call. Promise," I assure as dad huffs and gives in. "I'll eat my dinner, take a bath and go straight to bed for a good night's sleep. Everything will be better in the morning, and I will make you a healthy breakfast when you get home," I sweeten the deal, knowing they love when I cook. As expected, they both grin like little children and lean in to hug and kiss me goodbye—silently praying they don't feel my body trembling.

"Call us before you go to bed, so we won't worry," Dad directs as he pulls back.

"Will do. Don't work too hard," I close and lock the door after them before waiting until I see the taillights of their utility vehicle have cleared the driveway before I'm scooping up the questionable tv dinner and turn to dump it down the toilet before flushing it. Not wanting to insult or raise further suspicions as to why I didn't eat it, I wash and recycle the plastic tray and grab my box and applications before locking the front door and heading to my childhood bedroom.

The tight sleeping quarters and bathroom are crammed into the tiny hallway as I make a right at the first door I see. It's exactly how I left it—a double bed tucked into the once closet, dresser, desk, slimline bookshelf and a few wall hangings—nothing fancy, just practical. After placing my box on the bare desk, I flunk down on the corner of my bed and lie back. The softness and scent fill my senses with an element of ease.

My lids automatically lower like weights tugging them closed - dragging me under into a deep bottomless pit of nothingness until a flicker of light emerges...

Within a blink of an eye, the curtain lifts, and my mind lightens, as do my surroundings. "Hello?" I call—the answering call of my voice echoes throughout the vast area. An area so rich and diverse with uninhabited landscape and wildlife. The chirping birds have me smiling as the sunlight bastes across my face. The sounds of running water, rush from a waterfall or a mighty river is nearby as I pad along the earthy forest floor. The scents are soothing and all-consuming—especially one.

Autumn comes to mind, evergreen and an array of holiday spices contradict my current backdrop but overpower and soak me with solace. Inhaling deeply, I follow the scent as it becomes stronger and stronger with every step I take. Walking turns to jogging until I'm full-on running in desperation. Needing, having, wanting to find its source. To bottle and preserve it—addicted to its overall feeling.

I halt when I break through into a wide-open meadow wrapped in a bountiful treeline. Long tall grass sweeps the area giving off the sweetest of appearances as I step forward. My hands trail over the wildflowers popping up here and there in glorious colours and variety. The summer sun is hot on my face as I angle it upwards in the bright blue sky. Drunk on my environment and blanketed in my newfound indulgent scent, I miss the dangers that lurk within the field until I'm practically next to them.