Convenient Misunderstandings. (boyxboy)

12) Late regrets.

Change of POV’s.

My consciousness was regained as I heard someone open my door, whilst teasingly-slow steps made their way towards me. At first I had completely forgotten that I lived alone, and blamed the sounds I was hearing on my mom just checking on me. She often did that, because of that one case when I was little and I had choked on my pacifier. Her motherly instincts tingled while she was in the kitchen and went to check on me. The next thing she saw was her son, suffocating on the malevolent piece of rubber, and she quickly grabbed me, taking it out of my throat with her fingers.

And that’s pretty much the whole story. It’s not like I remembered it, so I couldn’t give all the details. I knew the story from my mom.

My dad, on the other hand, had a different story to tell – one I didn’t like to remind myself of. I used to have night-terrors about him – that’s the kind of a story he had. Thankfully, they all vanished as I grew older. By the time I reached fourteen, I had already forgotten about him.

The truth was he always lingered in the back of my mind.

I frowned in my sleep, realizing the audibly-strained breaths near my face. My mom never breathed like this, unless she had been running to the local store to buy toilet paper after accidentally taking laxatives. I was still half-asleep, so everything I did seemed like a part of my dream, which I no longer remembered. I was regaining my consciousness slowly and my head protested, resulting in a painful throb. I groaned quietly, trying to lift my body. The first step was to put that God damned blanket away, and so I blindly pushed it back, moving my body to the left to regain some self-awareness and orientation. I felt my feet tangle in the cover and groaned once more. Was it all just a dream?

I huffed, realizing the heavy breathing was no longer audible. Perhaps I was getting delusional, I mused, trying to open my eyes. It was probably too late to continue my nap, and the longer I stayed awake, the more I wished to get up and splash some water on my face to wake myself up. My body was relaxed and my muscles were still sleeping, as a third groan left my slightly-opened lips.

Fuck, I sighed internally. Why is it so hard to open my eyes?

After a few more minutes spent in fighting with my own drowsiness, I finally regained full consciousness and lifted my heavy eyelids, trying to focus on the sight in front of me. At first, what I saw was a blob of white, which reminded me too much of the snow outside. Slight panic embraced my heart, as I thought of the snow breaking into my room because I forgot to close my window, but as I glanced at it, I realized it was closed. I didn’t have any memory of opening it anyway.

Then .. what is that?

I blinked, turning my head to the snowy spot again. It didn’t look like furniture, nor was it a pair of my white shirts. Nothing personal, but my clothes didn’t float in the air.

“What..the fuck are you..?” I breathed, narrowing my eyes, as my face got closer to the unidentified object, until I could finally make out the blurry “dust particles” in front of me. What seemed like smeared silhouette of a snowball had now turned out to be the last thing I wanted here.

Silver hair, glowing eyes, Cheshire smile, which had now melted into a surprised opening – no doubt, that was .. him.

The molester. The wanna-be rapist. The “smooth criminal”. The retard. The idiot. My number one enemy. The one, and only foreigner from Norway.

I gasped in shock and stumbled in my bed; the back of my knees hit the frame and I fell on the mattress with my backside first, as if I wanted to rapidly sit. My eyes were widened in both fear and surprise, as I opened my lips to say something; yet closed them, when I realized I lacked the strength to speak.