she felt guilty about leaving me. However this wasn’t the case. I didn’t want her to have to worry about me the way she did.
“Hey, you look better,” she said and I knew this to be a lie as the evidence was proven in the bathroom mirror, but I appreciated the statement all the same.
“Thanks, I feel better.” Another lie, if this conversation carried on like this, we would never be truthful. I hated lying. I was always really bad at it. My eyes gave me away, which from the look on Libby’s face they had just done so again.
“Come on Kazzy, you can talk to me you know.” My heart melted, I didn’t want my sister, to whom I owed so much, to feel a guilt that really wasn’t hers to feel.
“I’m just trying to find my feet a bit…don’t get me wrong I love it here and you were right, it’s the best thing for me. I'm just worried about work and college and stuff but you don’t need to worry too.” I smiled to try and reassure her but I could tell what was coming.
“Why don’t you hold off for a bit with working, you could do with a rest and it’s not the quietest of places.” She pulled a face like she had just had her upper lip waxed. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips, and it felt good, only once I started I couldn’t stop. Libby saw the funny side and joined in. I could feel the tension lifting from my shoulders and gave Libby a big hug. It was right what they said, laughter was the best medicine.
She flicked her red hair back off her fac e and looked more closely at me then she reached out and stroked a strand of my hair.
“Wow, your hair is so long, I didn’t realise, why don’t you…?” she cut herself off knowing the answer. She understood I wasn’t the same girl I used to be or at least she tried too anyway, which I appreciated.
“Never mind, but it’s still a lovely colour,” she said as she fiddled with the ends through her fingers. She used to love playing dress up when I was younger and I was her life-sized doll.
“And you've still got dad's old sweater, well don't suppose it has fit him in a while , ha!” She made a smug sort of half laugh which I didn't really understand, but as soon as she touched the sleeves I instantly tugged down the material hiding my scars, which I think upset her slightly.
She got up off the bed and made her way towards the door, as if a memory had hit her and she didn’t want me to see the emotion building up. My guilt doubled.
“Get some rest honey,” and she left without looking at me, not wanting to show me her face. She was gone before I finished my good night.
I brushed my hair ready to plait it for bed and it squeaked as my hands split it into three parts. It was overly clean due to the amount of time I had spent in the shower. I hoped no one else was planning on having one as they would be in for a shock. A cold one!
I gave up on reading after only ten minutes, I just couldn't concentrate. The effect of the dream was still fresh in my mind, no matter how much I tried to block it out. It wasn't that I wanted to do this; it was just that it made more sense. I had been so frustrated all evening that I thought it would help to just forget it. However there was one aspect I didn't want to forget and it was the same one I was trying desperately to remember.
Why couldn't men like that really exist in the world? That's how I had made up my mind that it was a dream. Men just weren't that perfect! Well ok, I hadn't really had an extensive knowledge of the other sex but from what I saw (or can remember) he was just staggeringly beautiful. More like a God than a human, maybe I had read too many mythological stories. No wonder I dreamt about him. But even I didn't think that I would have that much of a perfect imagination to create a figure of a man like that.
Don't get me wrong I'd had boyfriends before, but I had never met the “one”. I had never felt the way Libby does for Frank, the way she talks about him, you can