52 Call For Help (1/2)

Jessie

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I didn't sleep alone. For the first time in my life, I had someone else beside me.

The heat off his body was warm as he curled himself around me unknowingly while he slept. His arm draped over my shoulder, face snuggled up into my hair, leg thrown over my calf.

A small smile sat on my lips as I watched bright streams of light stretch between the cracks in the blinds. I was afraid to move, afraid to wake him up and have all of this end.

The night before I was angry, too caught up in how I ended up in his hands, unable to see the genuine gift he had given me.

I was out of the Canary. Not forever, but long enough to enjoy the pleasures of this strange world.

Taking in a deep breath, even the air smelled different. It was fresh and light, filled with subtle notes of perfume and laundry detergent. The bedding was clean and soft, the walls were crisp and clean, decorated with ocean scenery.

Memories of going to the beach with my family when I was a little girl rushed into my head. I could remember the salty air and the way the sand stuck to your skin, making it feel rough.

A single tear trickled down my cheek as my father's face sat in my mind, his smile bold and gleaming as we built sand castles and splashed in the cold water.

Moving my eyes to the table beside the bed, the thick glossy lacquer was like a mirror. Running my fingers across the surface, I gently touched the thin edge of the lamp, feeling the coarse material.

The need to explore and touch and smell everything in the room had started to come over me. This was the only chance I had to regenerate memories of normalcy. Things that most took for granted.