Seraphina's Awakening

Chapter Two: Seraphina

Seraphina

A few months later...

Sera's heart thrums in her chest as she wanders along the busy street. Huge buildings sprout up all around her. They loom above, shadowing her in their massive wake. Her eyes dart across the numbers over the storefronts. Where is it? Her hand wraps around the vial dangling from her neck, and she continues to look around. People pass her without a second glance. She hears a few snickers or sighs as she ambles into their way.

She turns to a lanky man in a suit, "Excuse me, can you—"

The man passes by without even glancing up from the phone in his hand. Discouraged, she turns around and attempts to grab the attention of another. As Sera opens her mouth, the woman pushes past her as if she weren't even there. Will no one help her?

She twists around, glancing at the passing faces until they turn into a blur, and the numbers on the stores make no sense. Everything swirls into a massive tornado of confusion.

A bump from behind causes her to tumble forward. Her knees break the fall and her hands feel like they will have gravel engrained in them forever. Sera rocks back onto her heels and climbs to her feet, attempting to wipe what looks like gum off of her hand. A glare of light sparkles in her eye and takes her attention from her dirty palm. She glances up to meet the light dancing back and forth across her face.

The sea of suited people part and cause her eyes to focus on a lone figure. He's fussing with a watch on his wrist, causing the glare to shift back and forth across her eyes. Behind him, the sun is setting between the buildings casting a romantic orange hue around him. His other hand pushes a stray hair back as he turns her way.

Their eyes meet. A smile slowly spreads across his face, his blue eyes alive with a light brighter than the sun behind him.

It's him.

She makes her way toward him, finding her hurried New York pace. She quickly becomes the one that pushes her way through people. He watches her, amused, and she rushes up the street toward him.

Sera is a few feet away from the handsome stranger when he extends his arm for her. Her fingers outstretch, reaching for him. Her hands twitch, begging to graze their way across his strong jawline, and she stares up into his beautiful blue eyes that put the Caribbean Sea to shame. Before she can reach him, he too, becomes only a blur of the orange and red hues of the sunset.

"Mm, No! No. No," Sera mutters, rubbing her face back into the pillow. "Just a few more minutes. Just a few more." The harder she tries to return to the dream, the more awake she feels. It's the dream about that guy again. She dreams of him frequently—at least once every night since she turned eighteen. Sometimes she will spend all night just trying to find him. Just like all dreams, it must come to an end. With a sigh, she lets the mysterious stranger with blue eyes vanish.

The light purple walls of her room come into focus when she rolls onto her side. Sera is still reminiscing about her dream. It's so hard for her to wake up sometimes. Maybe she could sleep forever. She finds herself wishing she could live in the other world, the one her subconscious has created. She's still contemplating this when her alarm clock blares to life behind her. Sighing to herself, she rolls over and out of bed to begin the routine that is her daily life.

Sera climbs over her little stool and settles onto it. Her fingers begin gliding foundation across her skin. She blinks rapidly, finally focusing on her reflection. Her head tilts in a curious manner, leaning closer to the mirror. Those bags under her eyes seem to be getting darker. No matter how many hours of sleep Sera seems to get a night, it will never seem to be enough. If she didn't know any better, she'd wonder if she were actually participating in those dreams of hers. Although, she wouldn't mind participating in the ones involving the handsome stranger. His eyes are bluer than anything she's ever seen, and they seem to haunt her even at night. Her fingers move her auburn hair behind her ear. Even that seems dull under the morning light. She twists a strand between her fingers, inspecting those split ends of hers. Before her fingers fall to the necklace at her throat, they trace their way down the little vial before dancing along the silver cord at her collarbone. It's the only piece of jewelry she ever wears. She never even takes off, not even to shower.