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Her eyes flew open and Joey shivered. She felt cold, so cold, chilled to the bone. She glanced at the figure next to her sleeping peacefully and she felt nauseous. The dream had been so vivid and real and in its aftermath the slumbering Dawson beside Joey was an eerie vision. There was nothing innocent about Dawson in his sleep only a creepy need for her, to possess her that existed even when he was unconscious. Joey moved out of his bed. What had always seemed like an innocent childhood habit had now transformed into something much darker. His hand reached out in sleep like vines entwined themselves around her arm so that she became trapped. Fingers twisted around her grabbing, taking, firmly trying to wind their way around an unsuspecting victim until they became entrapped and struggle was futile. She dug her fingers into his to try and pry herself free for even in sleep his grip was definite; a locked vice. Color drained away from her flesh. Joey's skin became a pale yellow, Dawson's hold so tight that blood circulation was being stopped. In a desperate motion Joey finally managed to wrench herself free and quickly got out of the bed. Dawson rolled towards her, still asleep. His arms and fingers were still needy, desperate vines looking for something, anything, to grab onto. Yet in particular he was looking for Joey. His mouth was slightly open in the hungry kind of a way. Joey could see Dawson feeding off her. Taking the richness of her blood. Sucking the life out of her. Parasite. The very room was suffocating her. Trying to take something of her, a piece of Joey, an essence of her soul. She felt exhausted, fatigued just being in this room. A room which had once been a sanctuary was now a prison. The room seemed smaller, the walls closing in. The poster of Jaws with the wide hungry shark with its mouth open, teeth gleaming. White, sharp teeth ready to take a bite and never let go. A poster of Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind; the flashing lights of the UFO. She could see Dawson abducting her, taking her away from family and home. She could see herself disappearing in the lights never to be seen again. A missing person. Would she be missed? Or would people simply accept her loss. Just as they accepted that she belonged with Dawson. His soulmate. The word left a bitter, vile taste that flooded her body. She felt contaminated. Dirty. The need to wash herself was overwhelming. To cleanse and purify herself of everything Dawson. She didn't want to be a soulmate. She wanted to be Joey. She wanted to belong to herself. Wanted to believe that she could be a whole person by herself not simply an empty, missing half incomplete without another's soul. Joey wanted to be an independent person who chose to be with someone not because she was nothing without them but because they made her feel alive, because they added to her. Gave her life, additional color and meaning. Dawson's ET doll seemed to speak to her. Go home. Home. Joey turned and slipped her shoes back on. There would be no more sleeping in Dawson's bed. Times had changed. It was no longer innocent. There was need. A need that was crushing Joey. It would kill her. Being in this room was already exhausting her. Draining her life force bit by bit the longer she remained. She clambered onto the window ledge and onto the ladder. A final glance at the still sleeping Dawson. His arms were still searching, his mouth still open in a carnivorous manner. Each step down the ladder was a hollow, metallic sound resonating the music of freedom. She ran. Home. Go home. She could not run fast enough. |
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