"Every day of consciousness seems to follow a straight path. We're born, we live, we die. While it is possible to live under the delusion that we are in control of our own lives, we are indeed only following a set course. There is, however, a means to escape from the confines of waking reality and step through into an entirely different realm. Although those who have the ability to do so often live their lives as normal and narrow-minded humans, there are a few that have experienced something otherworldly, or perhaps even controlled it. Those few posses sight beyond sense."
She shook her long silky pitch black hair clumsily away from her pale face, staring into the mirror with a look of utter disgust. A pair of dull brown eyes stared back at her, almost mockingly. There was a hint of sadness in them, and it almost seemed as if some unseen torment had made them lose their luster... she knew this to be all too true.
"I hate you," she muttered, repeating the words of earlier that day that still rung clear in her head, "you think you're special but you're not. All you are is another reject, another stain on society that should be erased."
With a sigh she sunk to her knees on the cold bathroom floor. She had been fooling herself to think that today was going to be any different. Every single day was a torment without end... she had heard the same awful words so many times that they had lost all meaning. Seemingly everything nowadays had... it was either the medication or the fact that she had simply given up on life. Maybe a mix of the two.
Oh, the medication. She had almost forgotten. Reaching for an orange pill bottle that sat atop the white granite bathroom shelf, she once again began to consider suicide. It would be so easy to swallow the entire bottle, to end it now. She sighed again and placed her pills back on the shelf. She wouldn't do it, not this way. Not as a lonely girl overdosing on pills and dieing alone. She wanted an honorable death.
Almost laughing, she tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She wanted to die fighting, to go out with a flame and a passion that could be remembered. The only thing stopping her was the dammed pills. An overactive imagination wasn't a mental disorder, and her parents knew it. Just like everyone else, they thought she was a freak. A filthy miserable freak. Well maybe she was, or maybe they had just never given her a chance.
Muttering a string of curses under her breath, she stood up and rushed out of her parents' colonial home before they could stop her. Something had finally snapped inside of her. All the rules that had been forced upon her were meaningless now, just like everything else.
Sprinting down the block without a coat or even shoes, as she didn't care for them even a bit, she listened to the rain fall around her and laughed. It was a real laugh this time, not a fake one as she was accustomed to. The night air was calm and cool, dark clouds slipping softly over the moon.
After a few minutes of running she stopped, out of breath, unable to keep going. She was out of shape, but she still had a good amount of strength. It so happens that she had expired right by a park, one she had played at when she was a child. Those were happier times, when she didn't have a care in the world. If she could turn back time, she would live in those days for an eternity.
Wrapping her fingers around the cold metal chains used to hang the swing, she sat quietly. The wind began to blow, pushing her frail body along with the swing. She would have loved to have someone to push her... but that was a foolish wish. Closing her eyes and listening to the rain fall around her, she took a deep breath of cold air and started to wonder how much this little taste of freedom would cost her.
Suddenly, she felt a light tap on her back. She thought that it must be her parents come to collect her, but the voice that addressed her was soft and kind. Standing behind her was a boy who looked about her own age, about fifteen, with a few strands of scruffy light brown hair sticking out from under his black hoodie.
There was something kind about his deep blue eyes, and although she knew that she should be afraid of this stranger she felt no fear. He sat down on the swing next to her and smiled. She couldn't help but smiling back, he looked so goofy and innocent. Suddenly, realizing how hard she had been gripping the swing's chain, she pulled away her hand to reveal that it was covered in a thick layer of crimson red blood.
Pulling a roll of bandages from his pocket, the boy bandaged her bloody hand. His fingers were soft, and his kind eyes showed concern. Staring at the cotton bandage on her hand, she thought to ask the kind boy's name.
"It's Kaye," he said before she could even ask, "I thought you might like to know." She smiled at him. Kaye was a nice name. She hadn't heard it before, and she didn't think she ever would again.
Kaye stared up at the sky. He was dry, unlike her. even in the pouring rain, he was dry. not a single drop of water was on him or his clothes. There was a thick layer of mud on his hiking boots, not the grey type that she had seen around here, it was red and contained a few swirls of purple. He smiled again, showing off the tips of two gleaming white canine teeth. Everything about him was just a little bit strange, and she liked it.
"I'm..." she paused, as she watched the Kaye rise and begin to walk away. "Where are you going?"
"Randor, my dear. We'll meet there." He faded away into a wisp of grey smoke, that was slowly carried away by the cool fall wind.
The rain had stopped now, plunging her into a soft silence, soon broken by the screech of tires and the yell of all too familiar voices. A strong hand grabbed her arm, twisting it and pulling her forwards.
"Get in the car" yelled her father, pushing her roughly into the black car that lay waiting for them. "Don't ever try anything that stupid again. What the hell are you doing running away like that? Where do you think you're going to go? How do you think I feel, getting a call from Mr. Peterson at three in the morning to tell me that my daughter was talking to thin air?"
"What?" She froze. She couldn't have imagined Kaye... could she have?
"Darling... have you taken your medicine today?"
She sighed. She was losing her mind, they were right. "No daddy, I forgot... I'm sorry." She clenched her fists and suddenly felt something soft against her skin. Holding up her hand, she saw the bandage. It was so neatly wrapped around her hand, not to tight as to stop her blood from flowing and not too loose as to fall, it was there. Someone had cared. Someone had given her this... she hadn't imagined this... she just knew.
Leaning out of the window, she shouted at the top of her lungs "IT'S EVA!" As her father pushed her head back into the car and muttered something about his daughter being a mental case, she sighed. "I thought you might like to know."
Leaning against a tree watching her drive away, Kaye waved a gloved paw and smiled. "Bye, Eva." His ears twitched and his tail curled just enough so that it didn't drag against the wet ground. It was a nice night, and he wasn't about to waste it. Putting his paws into the pockets of his black hoodie and whistling a happy tune, he stepped sideways between worlds, ceasing to exist for yet another day.
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