“Bree, do you see us together in ten years?” I gaze down at her, sprawled out on the faded azure covers of my bed. She looks effortlessly beautiful with her head resting on my lap. Her scarlet hair hangs in loose ringlets that tumble over my placid jeans, creating a starling contrast.
I guess it was always that way; she was the thunderstorm over the calm ocean, illuminating the chaotic sky with her flashes of red. She was like lightening, terrible and lovely all at once. However, sometimes her flashes of intensity diminished what little light I held, sometimes she blinded me with her illuminating light, sometimes she struck me with her murderous electricity.
“I mean, where do you think we’ll be?” I say after receiving merely silence in return.
She rolls to face me and pulls the sleeves of the tattered jacket I lent her down. Her rosy lips are parted slightly as if she were about to say something, but silence trembles in the atmosphere.
Her mahogany eyes fly shut instinctively, as if excessive rays of sunlight were lodging themselves in them but today the sky’s overcast and hollow. Not even one flicker of light is able to weave its way out of the clouds.
“I don’t really see myself in the future,” she murmurs, shattering the silence. Her eyes remain shut but she fumbles for my hand, her dainty fingers entwining with mine. “You know how with some people you can see exactly where they’re going to be in the future? Like Charlotte Smith’ll be a doctor, Andrew Cooper a journalist, Grace an illustrator, hell, I can even see Quil pulling himself together and becoming a lawyer.” She pauses, pulling my hand closer to her heart. I can feel it beating frailly beneath her skin. “Well I can’t even see where I’ll be in a year, nevermind ten. It’s like when I try to picture it, all I see is darkness, great expanses of infinite darkness, or that static you get when a TV has no signal.”
She clutches onto my hand, the one resting on her heart, harder, her hands shaking feebly.
(C)illuminatedchaos