Before
11 pm
It was a dangerous thing to imagine. To think. To breathe.
Even more so, the dangers surrounding little clouds. They tend to be smaller, bitter like a lemon and make you vomit, but I didn’t mind. The burn was exhilarating.
“Henry, I swear, if I see another bottle of hallucinogens—”
“Whoa.” I clumsily turned around from the kitchen counter, swaying a little on my feet as I swaggered toward Mellie. God, she was extravagant, clothed in a simple cardigan and sweatpants. Why was she glowing? “Mellie, you’re an angel.” I saw her expression flicker, the glimmer of something beneath the surface before it was washed away by her well-known storms of anger.
“Give me the bottle.”
“What?” I snatched up the bottle and held it close to me. “My baby?” Her eyes flared.
“Give. Me. The. Bottle.”
“No.” I held it closer, then stuffed it down my shirt. It clattered to the floor. I could feel my face fall. “Oh no.” I laughed. Ooh, there were stars in our house. They were pretty. All blues and greens, with hints of orange and purple. Mellie stared at me, something else moving over her face like a darkened storm cloud.
“Henry…” Her voice. It was so sad. I held out my arms.
“Mellie, baby, what’s wrong? You sound so sad…” She stared at me still, unmoving. Slowly, her head moved. Left, right. Left again.
“I need you back, Henry.” I saw something glitter on her finger. Her left one, on her left hand. Ha, no, sorry, the one next to her tiny pinkie. Mellie stepped closer, lifting a tentative hand to stroke my cheek. I sighed, leaning into her soft hand. “I can’t live like this,” she whispered. “Neither can you.”
A veil slowly peeled back from my vision. A cold bucket of water dumped over my head. “I…I got sucked in again.” There was no emotion in my voice. Only a robot. I was a robot. A sad, sad little robot.
Mellie nodded. “I need you back, Henry.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again.” She hugged me then, a soft, tender hug that made it look like I’d break if she held me too tight.
“I won’t break.” The words were hollow. I could feel a stirring in my heart as my foot smacked against the bottle. Clumsy. A clumsy robot. There was a weight on my eyes. A heavy, woolen blanket. I want it off. I want it on. I want to become the blanket. I want to escape. Yes. Escape. Escape sounds lovely. A nice, cozy oasis far, far away.
“Let’s go to bed,” Mellie pleaded, hands wrapping around mine, gently guiding me toward our bedroom. I followed, watching the lights and colors slowly dissipate until there was only gray. I didn’t like gray. Gray was bad. Gray was…
Small.
Big.
Normal.
Too normal.
I wanted color.
I wanted…
Mellie helped me in bed, pulling off my shirt. I frowned, but I didn’t complain. The blankets were warm chocolate, and I was the marshmallows, slowly melting away into nothingness.
Darkness closed around me.
I was nothing. No one.
I was everything. Everyone.
