To Save Her

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The room is dark and quiet. It seems familiar to me, but I can't place it or where I've seen it before. I glance around, spotting a familiar figure standing by a short dresser. She reaches out and grabs something on the dresser, and it takes me a moment to realize what the object is.

"What are you doing?" I ask, stepping forward. She turns around, and I meet her emerald green eyes. She stares at me for a moment, saying and doing nothing.

She stares at the gun in her hand before raising it, pointing the butt of the gun at her temple. "What do you think?" she asks in a hushed voice, finger on the trigger, hand shaking. I try to reach out to her, try to step closer to her, but it's no use. No matter how far I stretch my arms or how many steps I take, she only seems to be getting farther and farther away from me, the room stretching. She's unreachable. Untouchable.

"Don't do it, Liz," I call out to her as the distance between us continues to grow.

"But you didn't help me. You should've when you had the chance," she says, face scrunching up. She looks me dead in the eye and clenches her jaw before squeezing the trigger. Blood splatters on the blue wall beside her and her body falls, landing onto the carpeted floor with a thud.

"Liz!" I yell, opening my eyes, ending up just in bed, covered in sweat and breathing hard.

"Who's Liz?"

I jump in surprise, looking over to meet Trent's gaze, who's sat on the floor next to my bed.

"Trent, what are you doing in here—or even awake for that matter?" I ask him, sending him a glare. I glance at the clock; 2 A.M. Seriously, why is this kid awake? Was I that loud?

"I heard you from the other room. You kept yelling 'No' and 'Liz'. So, I came here to investigate. Who's Liz?"

I shake my head. "That's none of your business, Trent."

He crosses his arms. "She's not your girlfriend, is she? Mom sure won't like to hear you didn't tell her about her."

"It's not like that, Trent. She's just some girl in my class," I say.

He smirks. "Oh, so you have a crush on her?"

"No, it's just a dream!"

"Yeah, sure, just a dream. You know, dreams show you what you truly desire," he says, so matter-of-fact. I roll my eyes.

"You don't even know what I'm dreaming of her doing," I say.

"What she's doing or what she's doing to you?"

I punch him in the arm and he recoils, hand over the spot I punched him. "Shut up, Trent. What she's doing is serious."

"What is she doing then?"

I pause for a second, unsure whether I should tell him or not. I know he's my brother, but it just seems like such a strange thing to be dreaming of. Trent stares at me expectantly, though, and I decide to just let it out. "She's committing suicide."

Trent stares at me for a minute. "You're serious? You're dreaming of her committing suicide?"

"Yeah—I know it sounds messed up, but I can't control it."

"Does she seem like the type to commit suicide?"

"I don't know, Trent. I've never even spoken to her before; I can't tell whether someone is suicidal or not."

"When did this start?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A few days ago, on Monday, when we were waiting for the bus—I just saw her taking pills and then I was suddenly at the bus stop again," I tell him, slightly embarrassed. Trent may be my younger brother who I have countless embarrassing stories of, but this is still embarrassing and uncomfortable to admit to him.