The Night

Dreaming

I wake up to the feeling of Zac shaking me. I’m completely half asleep right now, I mean, what time is it because, to me, it feels extremely early? I turn my head to look over at the clock and see that it’s six in the morning.

“What the hell Zac!” I yelled, “It’s six in the morning. Leave me alone.”

“Well, we have eleven hours to drive today,” he replies in him calm voice while he stares seriously at me with blue eyes that are hiding a secret every time I look at them.

“WHAT?!”

“We’re driving to Sioux Falls and are staying there for the night,” he still completely calm, whereas I am furious that I was woken up so early to do shit that I don’t understand.

“Whatever,” I say as I roll my eyes.

I grab my backpack and start to walk to the car after I slam the motel room door in his face. I wait in the car, huffing out all my anger towards Zac, for a few minutes waiting for him to check out of the motel. He walks out of the motel and opens the car door. He sits in the driver’s seat and points to the back seat with his thumb.

“I went out and bought some stuff this morning,” he says.

I put my elbow on my thigh, put my hand in a fist, tilted my head to the side, and put my cheek on my fist, “Why are we going to Florida?” I ask.

“You know damn well I’m not going to tell you,” he says seriously as he starts the car.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I don’t need to know that,” I say.

I grab the bag out of the back as we drive back onto the highway. I search through it’s contents: a tooth brush and toothpaste (I totally forgot about that this morning, my teeth feel gross and my breath really stinks), some gel liner, foundation, and mascara (the exact brands that I use, too which is weird that he got that right and something only a stalker would know, but that wouldn’t really surprise me form him), some pajama pants and a shirt (for pajama obviously), two shirts, two pairs of shorts (all which were really cute), of course some food (my favorite kind of snacks), and a thin light grey sweatshirt with no hood, two thick black lines where my wrists would be, and a large pocket (which is pretty damn cute if you ask me).

I pull out the make-up and threw the bag into the back seat. I pull down the mirror from above my head, then I pull out the foundation and apply it to my face. I close the bottle and put it back into my back pack. I take the gel liner and the brush and apply it to my inner bottom eyelid. I put that into my backpack also. Finally, I apply my mascara to eyelashes while doing that stupid open mouth thing that everybody does for some odd reason. I guess you could say it’s a reflex. I place my last make-up into my back pack and lay back in my seat.

I didn’t really sleep well last night I was pretty angry and kept tossing and turning. I grab a pillow out of the back seat; I guess he brought them because he thought we were going to sleep in the car, but I would never let that happen. I cuddle up the pillow on my side facing Zac.

He’s so serious, I don’t know why. I realize this is the first time I’ve looked at him, I mean really looked at him. I stare at his face. He is relatively not ugly: he has piercing light blue eyes just like the sky; they were soft and kind, but yet serious and were obviously hiding a secret. He also had medium brown hair with low-lights. Actually, his hair is a lot like my natural hair color, but mine was prettier. His hair has this little swoop in it where the front of his hair comes together with a point on the left side of his head.

He has a perfectly sculpted jaw that never curves and a surprisingly strikingly gorgeous face all together. I blushed a little at how I think when there are so many more important things to think about before this guy’s face. As I stare at his face I slowly fall asleep.

I don’t really know what I’m dreaming about; all I know is that I’m happy. It’s not a sad dream, or a scary dream, it’s just a dream in which I’m smiling. There are two people with me, a boy and a girl. I can’t see their faces, but I can tell they’re happy as well. I don’t know what this dream means, or who these people are, but it’s great. They seem so happy and so do I. We’re dancing and twirling around on a beach, the waves crash on the shore as if it was a great honor to reach out and touch our feet. I’m in mid-turn when I hear two loud noises behind me. I heard the waves crashing on the shore before, but this is not the same sound. I turn around to see the once happy people dead mangled on the silent beach and the ocean contaminated with blood that is now being swept out to sea so all of the world can see my, once happy, now horrific dream.

I screamed at the top of my lungs as I wake up to the child molester van behind us and Zac shooting at them. I turn around to look out of the back windshield, and just for one second, and one second only, I was scared, but then I saw a second gun in the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat. I grab the gun and roll down my window.

I’m mad. I’m more than mad. I’m pissed off. I’m not even sure why. All they did was wake me up from a dream, but it was a good dream, a really good dream. I stuck the gun out the window along with my head.

“You killed them!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I felt the gun release the bullet, and saw the bullet go right through the driver’s head. It was a perfect shot. He fell, obviously dead. With the driver now being dead, the car swerves off the road just as the one before it had. Except one thing was a little different, instead of the car uncontrollably going off the road, this time the passenger in the car drove the car off the road.

I don’t even know why I said that. I don’t know who those people are. They were only in a dream. They were only alive in a dream. I stuck my head back into the car and put the gun where I had found it. I stare right in front of me completely in shock of what I just did. I look over to see Zac staring at me.

“How did I do that?” I say completely angry at him for some reason.

“I don’t know,” he yells back

“I’ve never shot a gun in my life!”

“Okay?” he says yelling now, too.

“That was a perfect shot! How did I do that?” I scream.

“I said ‘I don’t know’,” I can tell he’s mad at me but yet impressed by my shot.

“I think you’re lying!” I say in one last huff as I take my pillow and cuddle up to it facing my door.

 After about five minutes have pasts, I guess he believes that I was sleeping again, which I am not, he finally whispers, “I’m not lying. I would never lie to you.”

Well, I’m sorry to say that you haven’t exactly told me the truth.