Dreaming [completed]

Epilogue

The bitter woman cringed at the sight of the lonely funeral. It wasn't her idea to come, and it certainly wasn't her idea to smile through whatever pain she felt, but it was still a kind gesture that someone came other than her.

The funeral was just as black as all of the movies displayed. The trees were dead with summer. Leaves littered the ground like dead carcasses. They weren't colorful either. Even the old lady thought the atmosphere was a bit drab for her liking, which was fancy clothing and expensive restaurants.

Angelica joined the little party of other women. They were all surrounded with sorrow, but not one of them showed any sympathy or sign that they were mourning. Even the youngest of them gave a wry smile to welcome their new guest.

"You showed up. I didn't think you would." The middle woman chirped enthusiastically. She would end up being the happiest of the four. Any and all positive aspects about the death of a loved one diminished her feelings. Seeing the bright side was nothing but a weakness.

The old lady hushed the middle one and they all silenced. The doctor was cornered, and although she'd rather not speak, she had to. She never wanted to, but it was never really a choice for a bringer and destroyer of life to be so clammy. "I didn't think I would either, but I usually attend the funerals of those who die in my care. I watched over him for so long. It seemed like I was his only friend. Sad, truly." Her voice was staccato, but it still maintained a chocolaty melt to it.

"Dr. Johnson and I weren't going to come either, but we thought the same thing. Poor boy died with nothing and nobody. He deserves whatever we can give him," The youngest one had decided. It was a fair assumption that everyone at the funeral could give something.

Angelica wore a slimming, black dress. The youngest wore a short, black dress; the middle one wore a black sweater and black pants; and the old lady wore a very long, flowing dress that actually suited her well. They were all rich enough to give something to Tyson, but none of them spoke of it after that.

After a brief pause, they all turned to face the casket. It was slender and black as well. Everything looked old around them. Even the youngest of them was aged with graying everything.

"Did I miss the—?" Mickie cut off Angelica.

"Yeah, but we still haven't left yet. The gold digger is coming soon, though."

"Shut up," Whispered the middle woman as she hushed the younger and nudged her harshly. However, Angelica couldn't tell if it was an intended misnomer or not. Still, there was no laugh or look of disgrace. There was simply a feeling of awkwardness that contented them. It eased her nerves. She killed him, after all.

"Anyways, do you have any words to say? You still can," The sweet, old lady asked. Her smiled was yellow and chipping, but gorgeous by anyone's standards. The stains were symbols of aging, but with grace and experience. Her wise words were enough to coax anyone to peace: anyone but Angelica. She was untamable. Her mind was set on coming in, giving a few words, and leaving before she was criticized for pulling the plug.

Still, she stepped forward with her black heels leading. Her cold eyes were focused on nothing else but Tyson. She missed seeing his heartbeat on the monitor. Life was something she envied, for she had anything but life. Her life, if she had one, was filled with loneliness and money. All she could do was buy herself friends, a house, and a new car every year. She wished Tyson were in her life as an animated being and not just as a dying one.

She started slow, probably because she was at a loss for words. "I remember them telling me that you were a lost cause. I didn't believe them. Ignorance was my bliss." She didn't mean to pin the sadness to herself, but it always managed to be that way. She always managed to find the selfishness that guided her to her nonexistent life. "You were fairly healthy when I accepted you. My colleagues told me you had a week before I would pull the plug, but you started showing so much brain activity. I was surprised that you didn't wake up immediately." Again, she was trying to show off her incompetence. It was fairly prominent as it was, though. She decided to talk towards him instead of directly at him.

"He was strong, and he was brave. I thought he'd make it, but let's just pretend he's taking a nap." Her lips quivered. A chill rolled upon the hills sluggishly, swallowing Tyson's women in the shroud of his soul. "Yeah, let's pretend he's taking a nap . . . "

The old lady could feel the soul tickling her body. She had no idea why. There was no reason for her to feel such a horrible thing on her nape. It felt like sandpaper, and she knew it wasn't a good feeling. Tyson was angry, and the licking was disturbing to the point where she felt like all of the hair on her body was standing straight up. It was an uncomfortable but deserving feeling. A single tear fell from her old eye.

She carried his soul away, right?

Mickie felt nothing, truly. She only knew Tyson from a distant memory. Memories were always such a big part of her life, but it all seemed like nothing compared to losing life. She knew how it felt to be a nobody. She was a nobody for so long, but relief struck her life like a chime when her father gained millions. She spoke to the boy's dead body about love and affection. She had met a man earlier that month. It was not Tyson.

But that was okay. He killed her, after all.

Dr. Johnson was completely bewildered by death in general. Being a psychologist meant that she should've been prepared for something of this scale, but she was blown away. Death surprised her. It was like the worst birthday party ever, and that was probably why only the four of them were invited. She had only met with Tyson a few times, and it was about social issues more than anything else, but she felt attached to him.

She didn't deserve to feel the way she did. She sent him to his death.

Then, there was Angelica. She was thinking nothing in particular. Although she was a bit of a taciturn introvert herself, she had nothing to think. She was constantly trapped in her thoughts and chose not to spend them with one petty thing such as death. As opposed to Dr. Johnson, she had faced death many times and was quite used to it, but there was something strange about Tyson. He wasn't just a man that came from nowhere. He carried something with him.

Everyone changed throughout his or her lifetime. The old lady changed a lot, Dr. Johnson learned how to live with herself, and Mickie went through a penniless phase. Tyson showed the only exception. He never changed, really. He grew up and grew older, but everything was the same. He was born a hero, and he died a hero. The consistency was key to his survival during his slumber, but not everyone with a gift ends up alive. Endings are only fun when they're bad.

Everyone began to leave. Mickie was getting upset and antsy, so Dr. Johnson brought her over to their ride. They left in expensive style. The old lady decided to walk home, saying that it was only a mile away and that she knew the way back like the palm of her hand.

Angelica was not ready to leave yet. She had unfinished business to attend to. She was still a bitter lady, and nothing was going to stop her from spitting on the grave of an innocent mockingbird.

Everyone was gone, and everything was still. No more torment, and no chance of fighting. She was ready to give her spiel. Oh, how she planned day and night for this speech while sitting on her king size bed in designer pajamas.

"I trusted you," She started off. "You were doing so well! You were almost alive!" A feeling of regret swelled in the back of her throat. She couldn't swallow the lump. "I knew I should've done something." Regret turned back to hatred. "It's all your fault! I could've been famous! Maybe a husband and kids was in my future, hm? Were you selfish enough to think about that while your brain was so active?" She was screaming at a dead body inside a coffin. The thought that maybe he was dead from the moment he arrived never occurred to her. She was spiteful, and there was no reason why she was being specifically overbearing to someone as kind as Tyson. "I deserve at least something!"

To sum it up, she wanted a big break from waking up someone in such a condition. The whole world watched the lonely man in awe while he raced through his mind in a coma. Angelica was shadowed by such fame and wanted it. The gluttony was eating her up, so pulling the plug wasn't so bad after all.

And with that, she was able to storm off. She never got her big break, and I'm sure Tyson didn't either. Angelica could go back to her normal life as a doctor and Tyson could be buried peacefully into the ground where he belonged. At least he could finally get some sleep!