Page 25 of Sage Haven
Or even the distraction.
I needed to feel something.
Anything other than this.
7
SAGE
As the festival drewcloser, something subtle but undeniable shifted within me.
It wasn’t a sudden, groundbreaking moment that changed everything. It was gentler than that—a quiet recalibration beneath my skin, like the slow, steady turn of a dial I hadn't even realized was off.
For the first time in months, maybe longer, I felt balanced… like a newfound rhythm took hold.
The days no longer felt like punishments to endure. Instead, I moved through them with an ease that surprised me. There was a fragile equilibrium between my tedious job, the cautious steps toward a social life, and the restless chaos still lurking in my thoughts.
The nightmares still came.
They still clawed at me in my sleep, pulling me back into the dark places I’d desperately tried to bury but their grip was weaker now. Their relentless cycle had softened into background noise, something I’d grown used to.
And numbness?
Numbness was manageable.
I knew avoidance wasn't healthy. Logically, I understood that. A part of me—the part desperately clinging to sanity—recognized itclearly. But feeling nothing had become infinitely easier than feeling everything. Exhaustion had long since stolen my ability to choose otherwise.
Yet… beneath layers of disconnection and apathy, a flicker of something vibrant stirred.
Excitement.
The past somehow felt lighter. Its hold around my throat had eased just enough for me to breathe freely again or at least pretend to breathe for a time.
Just enough to let myself want something new—to finally look forward.
Tonight, I wasn’t going to drag my shadows around like chains.
Tonight, I would spend a night out with Sam—my best friend, my accidental salvation—and finally meet the elusive boyfriend she’d been raving about for weeks.
And for once in my life…I wasn’t dreading it.
***
When the knock came at my door, I exhaled slowly before opening it.
And for a few seconds, I forgot how to speak.
Sam stood there on my doorstep like a vision conjured from some fever dream of light and color.
Electric and radiant.
She caught the porch light in just the right way, her skin shimmering like moonlight caught in motion. Every small gesture, every tilt of her head, seemed deliberate—mesmerizing in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
Her platinum blonde pigtails, each one streaked with vivid aqua and hot pink extensions, flowed like the ribbons, she always wore on her wrists, every time she moved. The butterfly corset she wore clung to her frame, its iridescent sheen shifting between shades of teal and fuchsia, thecolors alive with every breath she took. A distressed denim skirt hung low on her hips, her legs bare save for a pair of high boots laced to perfection.
She looked like she belonged under neon lights or in the middle of an EDM parade.
Then there was me.
