Purgatory

Chapter 3

                Sleep always came easily to me despite my situations.  My father would joke about how I could sleep standing if I really cared to, and he was probably right.  I loved to sleep, and perhaps I slept too much over the years.  During summer vacation my mother would get so upset with how late I would sleep in.

                “The day is almost done!” she’d complain.  It’s not like I ever had anything to do during the summer anyway.  Sometimes I’d go out for a swim in our pool, but I didn’t like when my skin would get darker so I never stayed outside for too long.  According to my mother, it’s my rich heritage that gives us such lovely skin.  She liked to be dark, and claimed it was more representative of how she really should look.  I just think it makes her look old, her skin tanning to leather slowly every summer.  It caused her to wrinkle at a young age, and I could see through the lines that before the sun she was quite lovely.

                I debated on calling my mother during this time of unease.  Sleep still came, but it was marred by nightmares that were fueled by my fear.  I would wake up every morning felling as though I never actually went to sleep.  It made caring about my classes incredibly difficult, and I could sense that if this issue continued it could really mess things up in the long run.

                I kept pushing away the idea of calling her because I didn’t want her to think that I missed her and regretted not choosing to commute.  Since it was only an hour drive, it was a possibility, but I wanted to live away from my parents.  I was sure what was causing these odd hallucinations had nothing to do with separation anxiety or home sickness.

                But what was the cause?  I found myself after classes looking up the paranormal, finding testimonies and photographic evidence.  Most of the evidence had me skeptical, with little balls of light and figures that looked like shadows cast by a camera flash.  Some of the testimonies matched what I had seen in my past, but none of them were close to what I saw in the silhouette.

                I hadn’t seen the silhouette the rest of the week, and my nerves began to calm.  I could tell Eden had noted my unrest, but said nothing on the matter until Thursday night as she dolled herself up in front of the large mirror.

                “Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” she asked as she applied dark shadow to her lids.  In contrast with her pale skin and light hair, it probably wasn’t the best choice, but I didn’t care to point that out.

                “Yeah, I think I’ll catch up on some sleep instead.”  I turned my attention back down to my screen, touching the icon to access the web browser.  To me, that was the end of the conversation, but not to Eden.

                “It will be really fun,” she tried to coerce.   I continued to browse through my regular sites in silence, but she continued on.  “This club has like…two floors with like…eight different rooms that play different types of music you can dance to.”

                “Dancing’s really not my thing,” I replied flatly as I began to look at images of cats.  I had always wanted a cat, but my mother was allergic.

                “Are you really sure?” she asked, looking at me through the mirror.  The repetitive question was annoying, and my feelings showed when I nodded to her.  It looked like she took it personal, her eyes looking back to her face as her brow knit together.  I rolled my eyes and went back to looking at pictures and videos of cats.  I silently vowed to myself that I would get a cat one day, and began to day dream about what I’d name it.

                It wasn’t until Eden left that the overwhelming fear crept inside my mind.  The light jingle of her jewelry and the occasional click of her makeup containers had served to block out any noise that would cause my mind to jump.  Now, I was left alone again in the dimly lit room, the hum of the air conditioning unit grinding slightly as it tried to push away the heat that lingered from the day.  It had been three days since I was left in solitude, and I wondered what I would see.