Who I Want to Be

Sparks in the Darkness

I dream again in the night. I make it to the cave, the one with the glittering lights. As the darkness creeps in, though, I glimpse a silver wing through the spark. My eyes widen - I reach out. I miss and fall into black. The dream recurs again the next night, and the one after that. Soon enough a week of tireless sleeps has passed. No matter how little rest I get, it seems the dream continues to pursue me. It is ruthless.

This morning is colder than the previous ones. I lie in bed shivering and desperately not wanting to get out. Eventually I pack my bag and get dressed, but it's all slower than usual. Before heading downstairs I take one last look in the mirror. Ugly is the only word that surfaces. If possible, I would want golden hair like silk. It would flow down my back. My eyes would be a fascinating grey-blue, and people would stare into them to understand their beauty. I'd be a million pounds lighter - have a trim waist like models. I'd be a foot shorter, too, so that I was tiny and adorable. My complexion would glow. I'd be delicate just like my mother. I'd be so incredibly perfect and loved and respected and knowing and un-me. Instead I stare down my pitiful reflection and cringe.

Marion is sitting on the bus alone.

"Clo has the flu," She says, offering up the seat next to her. Cautiously, I take it. "How was your night last night?" Marion is entirely distracted by a game on her phone. I stare down at my lap, because she is between me and the window so there is nowhere else to look.

"It was fine," I reply, stealing a glance at her. Still on her phone. "Uh, you?" There is no response. Of course not - my questions have no value in answering.

"Did you write in your journal?" Her tone hides a smirk.

"No," I lie. Marion says no more so neither do I. I lean back into the seat and shut my eyes, wishing the world away.

*****

During Second Period I normally sit in the back of the classroom with Clo. We half pay attention to our monotone geography teacher, and half doodle or read or write. Today, though, Clo is sick, so the seat next to me is empty. Desks are arranged in rows of two, which means I can put my bag on her chair. This should be commonplace by now - she is often absent, and for completely unnecessary reasons. Yet, I still feel a little lonely. Now, when the lesson begins, I pay attention because I have nothing better to do.

About half way through the class the teacher asks us to pair up. I stay seated and hope he doesn't notice me, or force me to find a partner. I know that no one would want to be with me, so why put myself in that situation. It's better for everyone if I just stay away.

Someone taps my shoulder.

"Want to be my partner?" I turn around to a girl sitting behind me. She has brown eyes and short, ginger hair. Freckles invade her small face.

"Um, okay." She smiles.

"My name is Wendy by the way." Wendy reaches out her hand and I shake it.

"Gabrielle." Her eyes go wide and she leans forward.

"I love that name!"

"Oh, thanks... I guess." As Wendy comes to sit in Clo's spot, I move my bag from the chair. She comments on the keychain attached, something about it reminding her of a cartoon. I tell her I haven't seen it, so she quickly offers to lend it to me. Right after Wendy sits down the teacher passes us a worksheet that we have the rest of the class to finish.

"It's so long," Wendy complains, grabbing her textbook from the desk behind her.

"I don't think it's so bad," I try to tease.

"You're mad, just look at this." Wendy holds the papers so close to my face that I can't see the letters. "We'll have to hunt through the whole textbook for answers." As she pushes back I realize I've overstepped my boundaries.

"Sorry. You're right." I look back down at my desk, embarrassed. No doubt Wendy is already regretting choosing me. I'm entirely incapable of human interactions.

"Why are you apologizing?" Wendy laughs and I only hear the pity in it. "Anyway, we should probably start at page 52. Did you bring a book or do you need to share mine?"

"No, I brought it. I'll get it out right now." We work through the assignment tirelessly until we finish. Wendy is efficient and focused, she answers mostly everything. When the bell rings and we hand it in, she gives a short goodbye.

"Sorry, I have to get to STEM club. I look forward to seeing you next class, though." Wendy flashes a grin as she quickly packs her bag.

"Me too," I respond, but it gets lost as she leaves the room.

In the hall I find Marion and Tobias talking about computer stuff that I don't understand. I lean against the lockers and wait, scared I'll interrupt or make Marion upset. When she graduates, Marion wants to be a graphic designer. At least that's what she tells us during computer lab, or when we used to play minecraft at lunch. Once, she brought me over to her house to show me something she built on it. Her desktop was in a dimly lit basement and her home itself was stacked like a hoarder's; everything unfamiliar and disorganized. Despite the stuff, though, the house somehow felt lonely and wrong. That's also how it feels being Marion's friend now, like in her eyes something has died inside me. Like I am no more than the trash that clutters her home.

Tobias notices me and smiles.

"Hi," he says.

"Oh, hi," I reply, surprised. They are both looking at me now, their conversation halted. "Um, what were you talking about?"

"He's trying to build a computer," Marion interrupts, smiling her crooked tooth smile. She tucks a blond lock behind her ear before tightening her bag.

"That's cool," I respond, not to Marion but to Tobias.

"Oh, thanks. I'm gathering old computer parts right now,"

"from the school," Marion finishes. Out of the corner of her eyes, she looks at Tobias like she fears anything he says could reflect badly on her. He seems to notice and doesn't say anything else. I can understand how he feels. "C'mon Gabby. I think Emma's already outside."

I follow Marion dutifully through the hallway. I take one glance back to see if Tobias is still there, but he's already gone.*****

I awake sweating, with tears lacing down my cheeks. Once again, I had that dream. And once again, it had changed. I was at the cave, darkness beginning to consume, when a vivid light formed in the corner of my vision. It morphed and grew and the black receded. Finally, the bright light evolved into a poignant image of my mother. She was more young and graceful and beautiful than I'd remembered. Her smile melted my heart. My mother walked up and stroked my cheek, then turned and walked into the cavern. As she moved, the light followed her. But that is not what grasped my attention. It was the set of wings resting on my mother's back. Astounded, I called out to her, yet she could not hear me - she had already flown away.

The sparks have dug deep enough inside me. They have finally found my greatest vulnerability and squeezed it tight. I wipe my tears and sit up in bed. Everywhere I look I see my mother. Desperately I shut my eyes. Except, I see her in the darkness too.

Eventually, it dawns on me that hiding does nothing. Something has to change. As I stand my legs wobble. I teater over to my window and open the blinds, which have been shut for over a week. The lights are already there like stars sprinkled over the forest floor. They beckon to me and I am listening. Silently, I make my way down the stairs and to the kitchen. My boots rest by the back door and I slip them on. The world seems so silent tonight. Everything is holding its breath as it watches me - as I give in to desire and want. Once I step outside a violent gust knocks the door shut behind me. I see the sparks nestled deep in the forest, surrounded by pure darkness, surrounded by the empty nothing.

Slowly, I step forward. Nothing stops me this time. Anna does not rush through the back door. There is no pane of glass to act as a buffer. The path to the light is clear and open and I am beginning to walk down it. My heart beats fast; it is either out of total fear or excitement. I have no idea what I will face once I reach those lights, but I have hopes. Actually, only one hope. One hope with butterfly eyelashes, angelic smiles, and a pair of delicate, silver wings.