Without You

by Alex Tredeaux 2 years ago in literature


Without You

Floating was such an odd sensation, like falling in reverse. Looking down at the world was odd, too. Voices were louder, and you could see everything and anything you wanted to if you focused hard enough.

But you never really cared to focus on anything but her. Every day you would check in on her, just to see her smile, to hear her talk about her day, but mostly to make sure that she was doing okay without you.

You didn’t mean to leave her. You wanted to stay, but it wasn’t your choice anymore. But you continued to follow her over the years and watch her change and grow from your little princess into a queen of her own without you.

There was still so much you wanted to tell her before, but never did. There has to be a way to tell her now.

Communication is difficult when you’re floating, though. Sometimes the message doesn’t go through. Sometimes it gets mixed up. Sometimes it just gets ignored. But you almost never find out which way your message went.

All you can do is watch and see. So that’s what you always did. You watched her walk that stage with the rest of her class. You watched her open that acceptance letter, and smiled when she jumped around like a child. You watched her stay up all night studying, or playing video games (whichever it happened to be that night).

You watched the tears fall from her eyes, and wished so badly to wipe them away.

Everything from the moment you left her on was bittersweet. You were given this amazing power to be there for everything, but cursed with the reality that she would never know it.

The coolest part, though, was being privy to her dreams. You could experience them with her, and sometimes even become a part of them. But it was unnerving when she would have nightmares. Once you entered her dreams, you couldn’t leave until she woke up.

One instance, shortly after you left her, was particularly terrifying. Dreams don’t play out like they do in the movies. They’re more abstract and nonsensical—jumping from picture to picture or from scene to scene. Sometimes you replay events from the past, others are just random images. Occasionally, though, they are a little too realistic.

This dream was engulfed in darkness. You could hear her voice, screaming and crying. Images would flash by, some in color, some in black and white. You could feel her heart pounding in your chest. The image began to slow down, finally stopping in front of you.

Her heart jumped in your throat.

You saw yourself on the ground, still and pale.

She took a tentative step forward and you stepped with her, towards yourself.

Suddenly, you were there on the floor, trying to shake yourself awake. You heard her scream and realized that the sound was escaping from your own lips.

She tried to turn you over onto your back, but your lifeless body was too rigid. You felt her try again, and again, before collapsing.

Slowly, she stood, through you, and rushed forward—you finally disconnected yourself and watched her figure, small and fragile, disappear into the darkness. You’re jolted back into the universe.

Thankfully, not all dreams are nightmares, and it was amazing to experience her dreams in such a way. You moved together as one, your hearts connected, and you could feel her every emotion—as if you were reading her every thought.

It quickly became one of your favorite things.

Time moved so differently when you were floating. Sometimes it felt as if you were controlling it, speeding it up or slowing it down at will. Other times it was as if life was on pause. Before you realized what you had zipped past, you would stop on some days and slow things down.

Like the day you saw her adorned in white. Music engulfed the scene before you, as she slowly made her way down the aisle—alone.

Your eyes stung and your heart broke. You should be right there beside her. You never should have left her. She was supposed to have you there, walking with her, not floating above her.

The vows were said, they shared their kiss, and everyone applauded. Then they danced. You saw her smile, her arms around his neck. You felt warmth engulf your heart and soul. You took a good look at him for the first time. They made a good couple. You searched his soul and saw nothing but love; love for your little girl.

It was all worth it. Every tear, every cry, all the pain and sorrow—it was worth it for that moment, to know that she was taken care of—that she was happy.

Without you.

Time sped up again, and you were floating above a new, yet familiar face. Soft blue eyes stared up at you, somehow seeing what everyone else ignored. A smile and a giggle touched your heart.

You heard her voice in the background, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the little one looking up at you. Quietly, you promised that you would look after him, just like you looked after her. For a brief moment, the rules were broken, as the universe allowed your hand to reach out and gently hold his tiny one.

For that instant, you realized that floating didn’t mean that they would be without you.

How does it work?
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