As I touched the back of an unfamiliar hand in the morning's dimly lit room, a strange sensation coursed down my arm into my chest. My skin, light brown instead of white, was youthful as I traced my arm up to my shoulder and to my face.
As I followed the contour of my face, flashes of who I once was, blindingly reminded me of my slow-burning death, and the wish I made before an orange, ghostly figure.
Who was I now? I gently kissed the back of my hand— the gift granted to me—I was alive, right?
The warm sheets and gentle rays slowly lulled me back into a methodical daze.
A numb, tingly sensation consumed my lower body, but I could feel everything from my head to my chest.
Heavy rays weighed my eyes down, lulling me into a peaceful slumber. Suddenly, noise broke the lull as blinding fluorescent lights replaced the warm morning radiance peering through the window.
A woman, whom I’d consider a girl by my past life’s standards, stood before me, proud, delicately biting her bottom lip in pink short-shorts and an oversized black T-shirt. Her hair was black, tied in a ponytail.
"Wake up, little bro, or you'll be late for school."
My eyes burned as I blocked the assailing beams with both hands, as rays of light slipped through my fingers, continuing their blinding advance.
The dark room bore into life. The lavender walls, purple bed sheets, and a battalion of stuffed animals, casting their judgmental gaze, were now as vivid as the back of my hand.
"Who the Fu—."
She rushed towards me with blinding speed, grabbing me with one hand, lifting me by my shirt, bringing our faces closer. Her pale skin caught the fluorescent light, and her dark, soft eyes gazed back.
"What was that, lil bro? It ain't cute when guys curse—didn't I tell you that?"
Lil bro? That meant I was a guy. Perhaps this wasn't my room.
My feet dangled as she held me by the collar. Her gentle face didn’t match the strength of her grip.
I trembled in her hand and growled out,
"Who are you?"
My uncertainty grew as her face twisted into a malevolent grin.
"Really? Okay, but you gotta say, please, Antwon."
Please?! I wasn’t asking, I thought, silently scowling. However, my eyes flared—the sound of my name struck something buried deep down in me—in Antwon, as warm joy overwhelmed me and a cascade of tears washed down my face.
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In my past life, I’d consider tears for the meek, but here I was, crying my eyes out because of a name.
"Aww—why are you crying?” She lovingly cooed. "My name is Sakura, silly," she said—her voice honeyed.
Her grip loosened, and I slipped out of her hand. Sakura pulled me close. Her scent of cherry blossoms filled my nose, and I let her pull me into her warmth.
"Damn," she said with a familiar slyness reminiscent of my past self, "I didn't know saying our names would bring us this close."
Sakura’s squeeze tightened.
I looked up, now dry, to meet her predator-like gaze.
"If you want,” she said, smirking, “to stay in bed a little longer, I wouldn't mind joining."
I pushed away in a knee-jerk reaction—my arms shook as I pushed.
What was she to Antwon, I thought, worrying for my safety.
"I'm okay; I'll get ready for school." Why was I so uneasy? I’ve never felt this way, so why now?
"Okay, but don't you need help tying your dreadlocks?"
I reached up to discover a tightly wrapped bun atop my head. I undid the soft fabric, and long, black dreadlocks unfurled around me. “ I have hair!”
“You okay, lil bro?” Sakura asked, with a craned neck.
"S-sure—let me get dressed first."
Sakura smiled while holding the side of her face. "Okay, I think your uniform is in the dryer—let me get it for you."
She turned to leave, but there was a burning question in my chest: "Hey, before you go, is this my room?"
Her eyes widened, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, whose room would it be?" Sakura looked confused, and then, gleefully, she disappeared into the hallway. Her footsteps echoed against the wooden floor.
I looked around the lavender disaster to better understand who Antwon was; I surveyed the room and found a closet door with a mirror and approached it slowly. I'd never considered my face in my former life; being ugly didn’t mean much, and now I didn’t know what to expect.
However, it was better to be ugly than dead.
I approached the mirror and examined my face—emerald eyes stared back.
Gorgeous—but was I really a boy? I mean, this face wouldn’t win a stare-down in holding or get me a smoke in the yard, without favors.
My eyes dropped to the reflection of my purple Pajamas, with images of smiling yellow moons.
Without hesitation, I lunged my hand into my pants, reaching for the truth.
“Ah, ha!” I shouted, firmly grasping my answer.
Gasp!
I looked over my shoulder to glimpse Sakura’s blushing face and gaping mouth, and then a warm rush swept over me as I considered the scene from Sakura’s perspective. My plain light blue school uniform dangled and slipped from her fingers.
“Sakura,” I said, searching for a logical explanation, still grasping my discovery. “It’s not what you think. I was only–”
"I-I’ll come back when... hair," Sakura muttered, blushing. She marched off, leaving without letting me justify myself.
I’m a boy, I thought, standing in the awkward silence of an overly lit lavender room.
As a new writer, I'm always trying to improve. This chapter, being the first of many, took many days to feel comfortable enough to move on. However, I still don't know whether it impacts readers the way I want. But I digress. Does my take on resurrection sit well with you?
