Wanna Kiss Me Back? - NaNoWriMo Entry

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

                    A black room awaited him as he opened his eyes for the third time that night. The room once    alive and vibrate with colour looked grayscale in the dim moonlight slithering through the cracks of his white roman blinds. The room was covered in shades of gray; the white walls looked light compared to the once dark red maple wood of his dresser that was just a shade lighter than black. The rest of the room varied but all the grey only added to his unease as he tossed and turned, adjusting his feet then body position then head then finally pillow until giving up entirely on falling asleep. He lay silently on his back and watched the ceiling fade in his distorted vision from a medium grey to full black along with the rest of the room. Blinking, the grey returned only to be consumed by black after a long stare once again.

                   He had many nights similar to this where he would lie down on the soft mattress and wrap his body in the seven hundred thread count blue sheets until he was warm and comfortable and try to sleep. He always would get a bit of sleep, an hour or two, until he woke up with a gentle start that made him believe it was time to get going only to turn to the clock and see every hour of the night scribbled in the green neon light. He didn’t have any medical condition; never had insomnia according to his doctor and it wasn’t sleep apnea either. His mind was simply restless as it replayed moments of his life as vivid dreams in his unconscious state until he could no longer stand the memories and awoke often, much to his dismay, panting, sweating or  speaking aloud.

                   Tonight was another in a long line of annoying nights that replayed a single dream that had been sitting in his mind for almost seventeen years. He pulled his arms over his head, stretching his back, shoulders and fingers successively, cracking the small joints  and hearing the popping release tension in the muscles and bones. A yawn found its way into the silent room, filling it with a moaning sound.

                   “Why does this stupid dream keep coming up?” He asked the air around him, sick of the frustration he felt at his own uselessness in regulating himself. He rubbed his tired eyes harshly with the back of his hands and pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. He refused to dwell on the memory. The moment that he wished he could escape but permeated his very being, sitting out of focus by day and being brought to the forefront of his mind at night. He had complicated feelings toward the event that occurred the summer when he was seven at the two-month camp his parents insisted he attend.

                   “Damn them,” he muttered cursing his parents for their ‘good natured intentions’ that left him confused and numb. He turned his head to the clock at his nightstand beside his pillow. It read 3:47 am this time; the other times he woke that night were 1:21 am and 2:34 am. Giving up on attempting to stay asleep yet dreading having to relive his memory for a third time that night he left his eyes droop and close, his breath regulate into a soft in and out pattern, and his body relax as his consciousness drifted into the dream.

                   “But mom I don’t wanna go here, I wanna stay at home with my friends I have no friends in...” his voice trails out as he looks for a sign to indicate where he is, “Muskoka. That’s a weird name. Like I said, I don’t wanna go to camp. I have no friends here, all my friends are back in Utica and I can’t even call them from out here. I don’t think they have phones... or electricity... or supermarkets... or running water. I’m going to be living like an animal here mom. Don’t make me go.” His small hazel eyes pleaded, softening and drooping as he pouted, hoping this will guilt her into allowing him to return home. The long drive made him restless and the fact that he would be left to the care of strangers for two months made the boy more agitated.