Stuck In My Feelings
When my eyes open a few moments later, the girl still lingers. Not the girl herself. The familiarity of her; the darkness; the ’it’ that surrounded her. I don’t know.
Before I left Texas, my ex got me in the habit of writing my thoughts down. It sounded stupid at the time—who on earth would take time out of their day to bitch about their feelings, you know? But I took it to heart and bought myself a little black notebook. It only has about three entries in it.
Why not make it four?
I push myself up and out of bed with a sigh. The blanket tangles with my feet and I stumble away from my bed. With my arms stretching out, I feel my way to my lamp. The lightbulb slowly brightens once I hit the button.
The black notebook sits on top of my already organized dresser, along with a pen. I grab them both. Now in my hands, I grab my phone and a spare jacket. I slip into the discarded sneakers hanging beside my closet and start making my way down the ladder.
It’s about four-something in the morning, so the house is deadly quiet. I can hear Silas in his room, snoring, and I roll my eyes. I creep my way down the stairs, pausing at the bottom for any noises. I’m out of the door in seconds.
Dad’s cabin is far back in the woods. Surrounded by darkness and trees so big. I close my eyes, inhaling. It’s probably the one thing we have in common—our love for nature.
As I step out onto the grass, the crickets stop singing. The silence starts to scream at me. I keep my eyes on the ground as I follow an abandoned trail, not too far from the driveway. To kill the silence, I start humming under my breath.
I’m starting to miss my mom.
Wow, that just came out of nowhere.
But I guess it’s true. The only other time I did this—running off in the middle of the night—was back at home after Skylan and I broke up. Mom was the one to ‘talk me off the ledge’, so to speak. And now, I feel kind of silly. Who am I going to talk to now? This journal isn’t going to talk back to me, and it won’t save me when push comes to shove.
I stop walking. I’m standing in a little clearing between two trees. I look behind me—I can still see the house, although it seems further back than I thought it’d be. My back slides down one of the tree trunks until I’m sitting down. I quickly pull on my jacket and open my journal.
I’m living with my dad now. Since mom died.
I know, shocking right?
But I’m not ready for those feelings to come out yet.
About 20 minutes ago I had this really weird dream. Weird in the sense that something about it felt right and wrong. This girl—in the dream—felt so familiar, like… smelling a certain smell and it triggers a memory. But this dream didn’t trigger a memory, at least, I don’t think so. I honestly don’t know what to think…
Who was the girl in the dream? What’s her name? Does she have a name? She had to be important, or I wouldn’t have dreamed her. And the thing that was surrounding her, closing her in... What was that? I don’t know.
Neither do you, I suppose, since you haven’t given me any answer yet.
But if I do dream of her again, her name will be Laila. Just like my mom.
what can you figure out about adeline’s feelings thus far? (I just came from english class, lol, don’t mind how the question is worded 🤭.)
~xoxo, maya cyns