Narratio: a compilation of short stories

#1

Dreams... they're projections of our soul that pull us in, reeling our consciousness in the dark hours of the wee morning. Sometimes they're good and beautiful- the ones that offer a respite from this world. Or they can be nightmares- dragging you into their murky depths like quicksand, suffocating you, with no intention of letting you go.

It was a nightmare that pulled me in that fateful Sunday, when I'd just come back from the club with my friends. It was a regular Saturday routine for us back then-after all, we were sorority students who came from a tiny countryside town, just experiencing the joys of living in a big city for the first time. Now, I'd take a lethargic countryside over the city any day- but my fraternity self didn't know that.

Drunkenly, I'd stumbled onto the bed, pulling the warm violet sheets over my body, curling up. I'd fallen asleep almost immediately. It was the same nightmare as always, me walking to the edge of the cliff overlooking river, seeing him standing on the edge. He'd be looking down, staring at the reflection of the moon in the river. I'd realize what he was going to do and start walking towards him. I'd call his name and he'd turn around. Seeing me, a wry smile would paint his face.

I knew what was coming next, I'd seen it happen- too many times to count. But I still tried- I tried to make him stay.

"Joselyn," he'd begin, "you know why I have to do this, you know why. I love you, you know that right?"

I'd nod, my throat clogged up even in the dream.

He'd smile again, and leap, just as I jumped forward to pull him back. And I'd shout no, just before waking up. It was impossible to sleep after that, as always. So, I'd curl up hugging my knees close to my chest and cry my heart out, remembering my brother. Remembering Hayden.

But that day, I was also facing a hangover and my head was throbbing- both from the drinks and from all the crying. Naturally, I went to get a glass of water and an aspirin. If only I'd told myself to bear it a little longer, I wouldn't be a part of this mess right now. But I didn't.

And I witnessed what happened next.

___

I used to share my apartment with two others, my best friends from my hometown- Gracie and Elle. Gracie was the kind who'd always go out, hoking boys around her finger wherever. Every time we went to a club, it was unheard of for her not to have at least one fling. Elle was just as outgoing, although a little more reserved. She didn't care much for flings, preferring relationships- none of which lasted long because she got easily bored. As for me, I didn't care, I'd flirt, have flings, date- essentially do anything- just as long as it didn't involve anything, no strings attached.

I'd gotten caught up in all the glamour and drama of city life, all of us had. Now I wish I could go back and shake some sense into my college self, tell myself to appreciate that time more, to go slowly. To live, take the time to look around, not just speed away like a train. I'd give the same advice to Gracie and Elle but most of all, I'd tell the younger us to take our time.

Maybe then, we would still be safe. Still be alive. We would still be normal sorority girls.

Maybe then I wouldn't have seen Gracie being murdered.