Different.

Chapter 3: Returning

Chapter 3

Returning

I awoke with a start.

Sweat stuck my tangled hair to the nape of my neck, and my lungs gasped for air as my damp bed sheets wrapped themselves around my fists.

The room spun around me wildly, and I fought the urge to vomit.

Closing my eyes, I tried my best to force my heart rate to slow, and steadied my shaky breath.

Another nightmare.

I sighed inwardly. That was hardly news.

Forcing myself out of bed, my feet made contact with the warm, fuzzy carpet.

But the second I stood, my knees gave and I collapsed in a sweaty mess on the floor.

Though I was laying on the ground, the world began to lurch again, and this time I couldn't hold what little I'd had to eat from last night in.

Bending over on all fours, yesterday's scarce dinner made an unwelcome reappearance.

Once I was finally done puking up my guts, I wiped my mouth off pitifully and tried not to stumble and fall into my own mess.

It was then that my mom barged in, throwing my door open without bothering to knock. Not that that came as a surprise either.

She took once glance at me, and didn't even bother to hide the disgust on her spray tanned face.

"You pregnant?" She asked oh-so-casually, sniffling obnoxiously.

I inhaled deeply.

"No mother." I responded indignantly but as politely as I could so I didn't piss her off. I could not deal with that right now.

"I am not pregnant." My voice came out surprisingly firm, considering I felt I might collapse again at any second.

She didn't move.

"You wasted? Or doing drugs? Cos last night you came home stumbling like a coked out whore, all cut up and muttering about some boy with pretty eyes."

My head snapped up, and for the first time in my entire life, I was actually eager to hear what my mother had to say.

She continued, glancing around my room, probably looking for any empty beer bottles or little bags with white powder.

"Then you came running in here, knocking over everything like a damn hurricane, including my favorite vase I might add," she said, looking at me pointedly. "and just started drawing like a mad man, smearing blood everywhere."

I bit my lip, now desperately wanting her to get out so I could look to see what I'd sketched in my disoriented tirade.

The beautiful and vibrant flowers?

The icy rapid river?

Maybe even the ominous silhouette gazing triumphantly down at me from atop the hill?

My mothers scoff broke me free of my day dreaming.

She shook her head and looked down at me like I was some dead creature the cat had dragged in.

"You're so stoned." She said, rolling her eyes. "Clean this shit up Kaylee and stop stomping around like a fucking elephant. I'm trying to watch my show."

And with that, she left, slamming my door shut behind her.

I sighed. Better she thought I was high than me having to explain what had really happened yesterday in the woods.

But what DID happen? I asked myself.

Was I really chased by some gigantic bush dwelling lunatic?

And even if I was, that still didn't explain how the hell that rock ended up planted firmly in his thigh, so hard he was knocked back onto his feet.

He was at least six foot, and he was muscular. That would've had to been a hell of a hit to knock him down like that.

I shook away all the thoughts clouding up my head, and fought to stand back up.

Using my nightstand as a crutch, I slowly stood, and found I had a bit more strength than before.

Though it took a bit of time, I eventually got the vomit, and myself, all cleaned up, my energy returning to me bit by bit.

Once I'd bathed, patched up what was left of my cuts, and changed into clothes that didn't smell like my puke, I sat on my bed and stared hesitantly over at my sketchbook.

I wanted to see what was inside, of course. But doing so would make all that happened that much more real, and I couldn't make sense of any of it.

Giving in, I lunged at the small, roughly bound book, and threw it open, tearing through the pages desperately, trying to find where I'd drawn the previous night.

Then, I saw streaks of half dried blood stains. I froze.

Swallowing a lump that had quickly formed in my throat, I turned the page.

And there he was.

But it wasn't as I had seen him before.

He was standing confidently in the middle of a dimly lit road, his dark hood concealing his angular face, but his bright golden eyes standing out clearly, staring ahead, determined and intensely defined. A bright red gash tore across his torso, revealing a bit of his bare, tanned skin. But there was something else.

There was something about him.

Some sort of..luminescent glow. Like his entire body was lit from within. My blood was smudged all over the page and the one next to it, but it didn't touch him.

I closed the book carefully, but firmly, and set it down on my nightstand, knowing that I could've stared at his hypnotic glance all day if I didn't put it away.

I had to go back.

I had to find out what happened.

Somehow..though I didn't know how. I just knew if I didn't go back, the numerous unanswered questions swirling about my head would drive me to the brink of insanity.

Hastily shoving my feet into a worn out pair of sneakers, I slinked past my mom, who was splayed out on the sofa in the living room, eyes glazed over as she stared ahead at some gameshow with a sleazy looking host.

I muttered some half hearted excuse about going to meet up with friends, to which she grunted gruffly, and I was off.

I hopped on my rusty bike, and pumped the pedals as hard as I could, wanting to get back to the dangerously beautiful forest as soon as humanly possible, in the hopes of clearing up some of the questions buzzing nonstop in my head.

As I rode down the hill, I played and replayed the moment when the stone had knocked the strange man backwards in my head, trying to come up with a logical explanation, but failing to do much more than frustrate and confuse myself even further.

Sighing defeatedly, I came to a stop, and to my surprise, as glanced around my surroundings I recognized I was in the correct general area, but I didn't see the subtle break in the bushes, leading to the cobblestone bridge.

Dismounting clumsily from my bike, I let it lean against someones chain link fence, knowing it was too old and rusted for anyone to be stupid enough to steal, and pulled my hood up.

After a few minutes of carefully looking around, thunder clapped in the distance.

Shit.

It was going to storm soon. I thought nervously, shoving my hands in the pockets of my thin jeans that were torn at the knees.

I was just about to turn back and try to avoid the storm, when a calm, deep voice purred from behind me.

"I had a feeling you'd come back."