Sleep

Chapter 5

Tom woke up in alarm, his head screaming in pain. He laid there, motionless, as he strained to see around him in the dark. Surely it was the middle of the night. Tom tried to stand, but his head throbbed, and he collapsed to the floor. He vaguely remembered the dog encounter, but he didn't know how much time he had been unconscious or how much had been a part of his imagination. Some of the moonlight caught his arm, and he looked down. There were no pustules; it was starting to form scars. Glancing around him, he saw that he was leaning against the corner of Alisha's broken bed, and so Tom pushed up on the beams, and he managed to stand. He stumbled out of the room, feeling his way around in complete darkness.

He felt pieces of splintered wood, cold metal, glass, and finally a loose frame. Tom stepped out onto wet grass.

When he was a toddler, his mother would take him and Alisha to a small lake about a mile from the house. The lake was beautiful, and he remembered that every morning there would be fog that developed like a blanket over the water. Clutching his aching arm, Tom started down the opposite path to the lake. He knew this path from memory; it was the path where Alisha would continuously pester him, where they would race bikes to see who could get to the lake first. Tom pondered the prospect of water and maybe fish; he didn't know how long he had gone without water, and his head was about to burst.

The path was more prominent than he remembered, and there were bits of newspaper and trash littered along the sides where the cracked dirt met tall, blooming flowers. He caught sight of the lake as he turned a corner. It was vast; the water reflected rays of sunshine onto the damp trees that stood tall near the shoreline. Tom ran to the lake and brought a cupped hand of water up towards his mouth. The water tasted pure, with a slight bitterness that hung on the edge of his tongue. He drank more and more until he immediately threw up most of the water. The pain in his head, however, was reduced to a small headache, so he stood up and pondered his next move.

Tom wanted to see his sister, he didn't know what had happened, and he felt pain rip through his body. It wasn't physical pain; It was pain that came from the heart, an aching sadness, then he fell to his knees and screamed, screamed until his voice was hoarse. He kneeled, shaking with despair, at the lack of life, his home in ruins, his mother. Alisha would have told him to get moving.

His eyes darted to look at his surroundings. He had on a grey long sleeve shirt with skinny jeans and white shoes, which were slowly turning a creamy beige. He was at a lake, surrounded by trees and flowers. He walked up to one of the flowers and examined it. It was white, with a skinny base that opened to reveal multiple petals that hung low at the sides. A sort of nectar was dripping from the stem, so he put his finger to it and tasted it. It was sweet and earthy, delectable, so Tom sat down on the dirt next to the flowers and ate nectar until most of the flowers were gone. They didn't fill him, but his stomach felt okay, so he moved to a dark spot under one of the trees, curled up, and slept.