Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [29]
The air itself was a complex tapestry of my surroundings and I could smell each thread. Fresh-cut roses, avocados, oranges, and from far away, blooming lilies. It was amazing, and I breathed in deeply, savoring it all.
When I reached the grass, I spun around in a circle with my arms stretched wide. Each star in the sky twinkled brightly as if warmly greeting my liberated spirit. A slight breeze brought in a new bouquet of smell as it gently caressed me.
The night felt like a blank canvas awaiting the first stroke, and I was the artist, picking the color from a near-infinite palate, able to go anywhere, see anyone, do anything. My personal tastes seemed to drift toward a pair of dreamy brown eyes, and my feet were soon heading toward Brent’s room.
Since he could astral project, too, I thought spying on him might be fair, and I sprinted toward the boys’ dorm only slowing when I neared the fire escape. The entire journey had taken seconds, but I didn’t feel winded or tired.
My plan had one hitch: I didn’t have any idea what room Brent was in. I started on the second floor, and feeling every bit the voyeur that I was, I peeked through the window, hoping the boys would be dressed. Two boys I didn’t know were both in the midst of studying at their desk, each frozen in time with a look of boredom on his face. I continued on to the next floor and peeked in through an open window. There sat Brent on his bed, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. It appeared as if I had caught him mid-laugh. His head turned, his eyes glaring at me.
“I told you not to do it again!” His face contorted with rage and for the smallest fraction of a second, his image blurred, looking like someone else all together. His gaze was filled with such loathing and anger that my exhilaration turned to all-consuming, breath-stealing fear. My heart, clear back in my dorm room, lurched in terror. I recoiled as my spirit was sucked back to my body and I was grateful for my escape.
A crystal blue shimmer of light glittered at the foot of my bed for a second and a familiar smell perfumed the air. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look— when it vanished. I stared at the spot as if my sheer will alone would make it reappear.
My mind felt slow, weighed down by unseen sandbags. My body sagged to the ground and I shivered violently from the cold that suddenly encompassed me. Cherie pushed to her knees in front of me, her eyes wide.
“Are you okay?”
“I-I’m s-so c-c-cold.” I stuttered. Cherie grabbed the green duvet off her bed and tucked the edges of it around me and then propped my pillow under my head. My teeth chattered and I hugged myself tightly for warmth.
When the shivers finally slowed, Cherie asked, “Did it work?”
I flinched. “Too loud.”
She dropped her voice to a whisper and repeated her question so low I didn’t think I would have heard it normally. I managed a nod. The room seemed much brighter than it had before, and I squinted as I looked up at my friend. My eyes began to water and I snapped them closed.
“Too bright?”
I nodded again. Cherie hurried to turn the lights off and then returned. In the darkness I could see everything as if the light were still on. Four red dots stood out on her face, in the exact same spot that my fingers had touched her. “Did I hurt you?”
“What?” Her voice was still too loud.
“When I was out of my body, I touched your face, and it left a mark.”
In a shot, Cherie was up examining her face in the mirror, leaning close to see in the dim light. She traced the marks my fingers had left behind. “You did this?”
My voice still felt feeble. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
Cherie shook her head. “They don’t hurt. How cool!” I heard myself try to laugh, but I didn’t have the strength. Cherie’s excitement gave way to frustration. “Why wasn’t I able to do it?” She turned to me with questioning eyes.
“I have no idea.” I could feel my warmth returning. The marks on Cherie’s face were beginning to fade, too.
“Maybe I just need more practice.”
“Maybe.”
I sat up slowly, feeling more normal with every breath,