The Sleep Writer stikes again!

Published June 2, 2010 by ABadKitten

I’ve been known to randomly get in the mood to write the moment I wake up from deep sleep. I’ve also been known to do the exact same thing while still asleep…but awake…yet asleep. My Muse is more active while I’m barely awake, but that doesn’t mean I write as well as I would while awake. Even still…reading something you had no idea you were writing is pretty interesting.

I started to edit it, but I went back to the original. It’s not even a complete story, so why edit it now? I’ll continue it at some point and edit it at the end. Hooray for the Sleep Writer (aka…me!)!!

I don’t think I would ever have imagined such dramatic change could happen in so short a time period. It never seemed like a possibility, never a thought or a reality. I guess that just goes to show you how truly naive and, honestly, stupid a teenage girl can really be…

In the light of the moon, he was stunningly beautiful. In the most brilliant way. To him, I must have looked like a discarded piece of trash left carelessly out of place amidst a beautiful garden of roses. No, really. We were standing in the middle of a astonishingly beautiful garden of roses. Pink, red, white, orange, yellow…even purple, green and blue—a variety of roses I never even knew existed. Probably because they don’t…at least not in our reality.

In Marcus’ reality though…anything was possible.

 I remember when I was very young, my parents would always tell me, “Try your hardest and strive for whatever you dream of, Kaylie! Anything is possible!” Who would have thought parents could be right? Even though I’m dead set in believing that they had no true idea of what they were saying to me. Not if they could see me now.

A soft tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality in a split second…too fast for my mind to register. If only you could have been an on-looker to see the less-than-graceful way I twirled around, lost my footing, and went sprawling face-first into the conveniently-placed Cupid fountain. Everything is conveniently-placed when I’m around. How else would I fall into it, hurt myself, or utterly decimate it, right?

“I’m so sorry, Kaylie! I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, trying his hardest not to choke on the obvious fits of laughter being forced back down his throat. I would have expected him to laugh his ass off, and quite loudly. After all, I looked like a drowned rat in a over-coat. As if my mousy brown hair and foggy gray eyes didn’t look bad enough when I was DRY. As is the story of my life.

“It’s ok…not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention,” I muttered with embarrassment while mentally screaming and banging my head against an imaginary wall. “Besides, I was waiting for it. I knew the moment I saw this fountain that I would be swimming sooner or later…” That’s right, Kaylie…laugh it off like always.

The mental abuse came to a screeching halt at the touch of his hand to mine. It was the warmest thing… the softest thing. My eyes were glued to it as I could swear I saw bolts of electricity curling and entwining themselves around our fingers.

“If you wanted to go swimming that badly, you could have just said something. We are at the beach,” Marcus’ words echoed as if I were dreaming.

“Huh?” I blinked in confusion. What beach was he talking about exactly? Last time I checked, we were smack dab in the middle of Colorado.

I felt slightly dizzy all of a sudden, like I was on some terrible I-move-way-too-fast-in-a-million-circles-carnival ride after eating one too many hot dogs. I closed my eyes and held my head in my hands until the feeling went away. After feeling steady on my own two feet once again, I opened my eyes. Or, at least, I tried to.

Have you ever found yourself in the spotlight? Trying so hard to move your legs to the rhythm of the music but the damn lights are so bright you can’t see the floor beneath you? That’s how I felt at that moment, except incredibly warm.

After blinking a few thousand more times and using my hands as shields for my poor, burning eyes, they were slowly able to open on the magnificent waters and warm sand that surrounded us. The ocean sparkled like so many diamonds in the stunning sunlight. The warm sand danced and twirled around us as it was picked up and blown in the cooling sea breeze.

Standing in the most beautiful moonlight garden I had ever known Colorado to posses? What the hell did I know?

“How did you…” I started to say, but my words seemed to be carried away just as easily as the sand beneath my feet. It was almost too much to take in, the beauty of it. The only time I had ever been to a beach was…never. Television and movies were one thing, but to actually experience it? I could feel my skin changing shades, the salty mist caressing my face, and I just closed my eyes and smiled.

“You should know the answer to that by now, sweetheart,” Marcus said with a smile. He was right, I knew. I was just good at asking silly questions even when I knew the answer. Besides, it wasn’t something that you could get used to with the snap of your fingers. Our reality is something we’re taught, something we experience since birth. Marcus’ reality was…something out of a fairy tale.


13 comments on “The Sleep Writer stikes again!

  • I really liked this! You shouldn’t change a thing! I always write like this… I hate starting a story from the beginning. I usually have a perfect ending scene written out and don’t bother with the rest of the story.

  • @Shining_Garnet – That’s why I keep a notebook by my bed. Sometimes, I get the best ideas when I’m about to fall asleep :]@m_kabs – Thanks!I write this way quite often, but it makes it hard for me to think of what could/would/should come before it. I’m attempting to do something different with this story, though. Hopefully my little experiment doesn’t turn out too badly. :]

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