Five
1190 Words
My back slammed against the wall, as I tangled my hands in Josh’s hair. He abruptly dragged down the sleeve to my vest top, before burying his face in the crook of my neck.
His hands trailed up my bare thigh, grabbing it and wrapping it around his waist before squeezing my behind. His tongue assaulted the skin on my neck, before he used his teeth to graze against it. Come on, Willow. You can do this, just try to enjoy it.
“You like that?” He purred in my ear, nipping down on my skin. No, not particularly. “Sure.” I replied, before using my hold on his head to redirect his attention to the more sensitive areas. This was a distraction I needed.
He trailed sloppy kisses down my chest, using both his hands to roughly squeeze my breasts. I tried my hardest to be in the mood, but he just wasn’t doing it for me. Sure, he was skilled enough, but I couldn’t force myself to be turned on.
I inwardly groaned at myself. “Josh?” I called his name, trying to take his attention away from leaving a line of love-bites against my chest. “Hmm?” He responded, looking up at me as how tongue swirled around my n****e.
I gently pushed my hands against his shoulders, backing him away from me with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling it tonight. Can we take a rain check?”
Josh scratched the back of his head as he wore a puzzled expression, he’d clearly never received this type of response before. “Um, yeah I guess. Maybe after the party?”
I nodded politely, pulling up straps. “Yeah, sure.” I agreed, leading him out of my room knowing I definitely wouldn’t be hooking up with him after my party.
I gently opened the front door, trying to not make a sound that would wake my parents. “I’ll see you then.” I smiled.
After he left, I headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water, needing to wash the taste of bourbon off me. I carried my glass to the sink, inwardly scolding myself for stooping so low.
I gently, or so I thought, lifted the lid to the tap. What I had expected was for the water to pour out, as per the usual routine of turning on the tap. Instead, I stood with my mouth hanging agape as I held the full metal instrument in my hand, completely broken from the basin.
Well… s**t.
I stared at the broken object in my hand, half expecting it to somehow amend itself if I continued to watch it in disbelief. I brought the object closer for inspection, noticing how the edges were jagged as though the metal had been snapped in half.
I frowned in confusion, glancing back to where the tap has previously, securely lived. Like the broken piece, the edges were jagged indicating the part had been torn off.
I shook my head in dismay, it was obviously already broken. I placed the broken piece on the side, looking at it one final time. What was more likely? The metal wore down and the tap just snapped or me, a tiny 20 year old, managed to break it in half.
Granted, my parents had only had this kitchen installed last year, but for the sake of reason and the last shred of my sanity, we’re not going to consider that point.
Deciding to head to bed, without my water, I collapsed against the bed and screamed into my pillow. I can’t believe I almost slept with Josh tonight, the man also known as a walking STI. These dreams were causing me to lose my ability to think rationally, along side the many many pina coldas I had drank.
I brought my palm up, using the index finger to trail along the wound. The sharp, sensitive pain I felt at the connection proved the wound was very, very real.
Could there be a possibility that perhaps my dreams weren’t just dreams?
But then accepting that meant accepting everything Wroe had said, about him being my brother and the supernatural world. It wasn’t too unrealistic, me having a brother that is, considering I knew nothing about my birth parents.
He also knew about my necklace, which my mother had told me was the only item I was left with. But ironically, the things he spoke about were matters I had just discussed with my mother before I fell to sleep. Maybe they were just on the forefront on my mind, which led to me dreaming about them.
I glanced back down at my hand, that logic still didn’t explain the wound. The more I thought about it, the reasoning that I had somehow managed to cut myself in my sleep the exact same way Wroe had injured me started to sound as obscured as me traveling to an alternate reality.
I still had so many questions dancing around in mind, was I insane for even humouring the possibility that what he said could be true? Probably.
“What is going on with me.” I muttered to myself, shuffling around in the duvet.
Suddenly, a sharp, burning sensation began developing against my chest. I reached for my locket, burning the tips of my fingers in the process, as the metal continued to heat up.
“What the-”, I quickly unclasped the supporting chain, causing the necklace to drop onto the duvet. I rubbed my fingers across my chest, feeling how my skin had lifted where the locket had been.
My eyes narrowed on the heart, noticing something I never had before. It had opened up, allowing me to examine what was inside.
I had tried opening it up a few years ago, but failed miserably and ended up with the conclusion that it was just a heart, with nothing inside. Of course, at the time, I hadn’t realised the significance of it and if I had known, I would have perhaps tried harder.
I quickly tapped the white-gold heart, testing to see if it was still burning up, but oddly enough it was now stone cold like it hadn’t just scolded me merely moments ago… things are getting stranger around here.
Hesitantly, I collected the locket between my fingers and brought it closer. I gently pulled back the front half, revealing a photo inside.
A beautiful woman stood smiling at the camera. Her brunette locks were styled in waves, descending down her back. Her smile was full of life and hope, somehow reassuring you as you looked at her. Her silver eyes glowed, filled with excitement.
I looked closer, noticing the singular dimple in her right cheek as she smiled, just like myself and Wroe from my dream.
But the way she looked wasn’t what truly captured my attention, it was the baby that she was holding so carefully in her arms that looked exactly as I did at that age, wearing the locket around it’s neck.
Was this… my mother?
- Writer
