Priscilla

S4 ⭒ Episode One

"Stars fading but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss..."
♪ DALDOM • Doris Day.

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

Priscilla Wolfe

I had a dream last night that Halen clawed my heart from my chest, and killed me.

I stood in the greenhouse, in my nightgown. I could hear the fountains, the waterfalls. I could feel the humid air. But, there was no sun beaming in through the windows. There were no clouds. There was nothing at all. It was black. But, not like the darkness of night. Like an endless. Like a hole. Like a void.

My feet were aching. I had blisters on my heels and ankles. It hurt when I walked to the door. I tried to open it, but it didn't budge.

So, I pressed my nose against the glass and knocked from the inside - what a weird thing to do, knock from the inside. Usually it's the other way around.

There was a party happening outside in the garden. Daisy. Alanis. Fox. Mars. Kim. Blue. Santana. Marianne. Crosby. Even Chucky. Everyone was wearing party hats. Drinking. Dancing. Singing.

Among them, there was a little boy taking money from people, with a trunk full of tiny wooden clocks he wanted to sell.

I wanted one. I wanted to go out and buy one from him. Be a part of the party.

No one would open the door.

He saw me as he took money from a stranger for a purchase, and he stopped smiling. Then, everyone stopped smiling. They all stared at me. Their eyes were filled with disappointment.

Through the door, I shouted and I told the little boy if he let me out, I'd buy a clock, I'd buy them for everyone. Instead, he threw one through the window beside me, shattering it.

I ran to get it, and while picking it up, I cut my fingers on the broken glass.

I didn't care though. It was pretty. It was so delicately carved and cute. It had the initials D.R. on the bottom and the time read 10:23.

I got up to thank the boy, and he was standing at the hole in the window that he'd made, holding out a party hat just for me.

I took it, and within' seconds, it was on fire in my hands.

Suddenly, my fingers were tangled in the strings of it and I couldn't shake the flames off. My hands were burning. Orange. Hot. I ran away to the fountain and I dunked them into the water, but the burning didn't stop.

The fire didn't go out.

My heart was racing. I started to cry.

I fell to my knees and lavender tinted tears fell from my cheeks.

Then, he was there.

Halen.

Behind me.

I stopped crying and looked up at him, shadowed in the darkness, silent and still, like always. Beautiful. He knelt down behind me while I held my hands out, horrified by what the boy had done, how he'd tricked me.

Until, Halen slowly lifted his own hands to meet mine, and let the flame catch on his open palm. He didn't cry like me, didn't panic, he didn't do anything, he just slowly let it spread over the grooves and veins on fingers. He let it burn out the inked 'Paradise' on his knuckles until the letters were a singed particle of soot in the air.