November Dreams (M.C.)

Chapter Sixty-Nine

               

Luke

I awoke that morning a lot earlier than I had planned. Sleep was hard to come by lately so I tried to get as much as I possibly could, knowing very well that it would always be cut short by some horrific nightmare reliving Michael's death. I fished my arm out from under Czara, trying not to wake her up; at least one of us deserved to get some undisturbed rest.

I let my legs swing over the side of the bed, my feet twitching as they hit the cold wood floor. I walked slowly from the room, closing the door slowly behind me but not before taking a last look at the tangled mess of hair asleep in my bed. I couldn't help but smile a small smile at her; I was thankful to have someone to share this hurt with, as terrible as that sounded. But, in truth we all shared it; Ashton Calum, Czara, but especially November.

I had made it a habit to check on her in the mornings; she had been plagued by nightmares since that day. I had a feeling that I was the only one out of us who shared her nightmares and restless sleep. So, I would slip into her room in the mornings to find her perched on her bed with her head in her hands, trying to pull herself from her grief. We would just sit there in the shallow morning light, comforting each other in silence. Just the presence of each other was enough to calm the storm that surged within.

But as I made my way down the hall, something made me stop just short of her archway. The door to her bedroom was cracked open just slightly. I stood there for a moment a bit puzzled; it was rare for her to leave her room, especially this early. But my confusion grew as I peered inside to find it vacant; no November perched on the bed. I walked into the kitchen scratching my head. I figured maybe she had gone somewhere this morning, maybe she had broken the cycle. As I reached for a glass in the cabinet though, something stopped me. I stood quietly, listening for the sound again. It sounded like voices coming from somewhere and I could have sworn that one of them belonged to November. I made my way to the glass door and opened it slowly, the morning sun seeping into the living room. As I walked out to the edge of the grass I could see her laying down, but there seemed to be someone with her.

"Hey, Nove! What are you—"

She sat up abruptly, as did the figure beside her. And as that person sat up, I felt my heart jump into my throat.

The glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the concrete, shards scattering around my bare feet. But I didn't care, because all I could focus on was the ghost in front of me.

"M-m-michael..."

I felt my body cave in to the surrealness of what I was seeing. The only image imprinted in my brain consisted of him and November rushing from the grass to where I stood before my face collided with the concrete.

And then, black.

//

All I could manage to do was blink rapidly, half-expecting to either wake up in my bed or for him to simply vanish. But I didn't, and he didn't, so there I lay. My hands sat limp by my sides as I blinked away the small black dots that clouded my vision. My eyes finally began to focus on the five figures hovering over me; Calum, Ash and Czara looked just as confused as I was as to what was actually going on.

Michael was the first to react. He leaned forward, his body crouched over mine as he reached for me. My body seized as I felt his hands touch my skin; he was real, this wasn't a dream. Michael helped me prop myself up in a hunched sitting position, my head throbbing as I eyed the faces around me. We all sat there, silent for a moment. There was no doubt that all of us were unsure of how we all got here, in this time and place, in this situation, in this frame of mind. But our confusion and hope tied us to each other like ships in a storm.

Calum sighed and sat next to me, the rest of them following suit. He stared at Michael for a moment, almost as if he were studying him. I knew what was going through his head; I had the same thoughts: that he was seeing a ghost, that he was dreaming, perhaps even crazy.

Calum sighed and rubbed his face, a last-ditch effort to wake himself from whatever dream he may have been caught in. But when he blinked, Michael still sat across from him as he had before. I could see the shock wash over his features, his eyes never leaving Michael as he spoke.

"How is this even real...we..." Calum choked, his eyes wide.

"We watched you, in that bed...we...you flat lined..." Ashton spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, his head bowed in his lap.

Another brutal silence fell over the circle once more, each of us recalling that day in the hospital. That was the day our universe came crashing down around us, only to be rebuilt in the blink of an eye.

"I—I don't know how it happened...and I'm sorry that I put all of you through that. I was selfish and—"

"—Stop," I cut him off. Everyone's gaze shifted to me; Michael's eyes were brimming with guilt, a guilt I wished would leave him.

"We were selfish. We drove you to that place, Michael. It's our fault you felt like you had to leave. I don't know about them, but that's something I would have never gotten over," I fought tooth and nail to keep the tears back, but my eyes began to sting and that's when I knew I had lost the battle.

"Luke—"

"No, Michael. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I watched you struggle more than anyone and I did nothing to help. After I found out about the incident, I shut you out even though it was something that happened in the past. I drove you to this..." I buried my head in my hands out of an intense mixture of self-hatred and shame, shame for what I had done to my friend, self-hatred for what I caused him to do.

"I wont sit here and pretend like it didn't hurt to feel abandoned by my best friend, but that doesn't mean I don't forgive you, Luke."

I lifted my head from my hands, my eyes catching his as he smiled softly at me.

"Besides, if it wasn't for you, I don't know if November would have been there to wake me back up," his voice lowered as we all looked towards her, her lead bowed. She lifted it, only to look at me. Her eyes told me something I wish I hadn't known; her eyes told me that Michael was right.

She stood slowly and walked over to me, holding out her hand to mine. As I stood, she pulled me in tightly, her tears falling gently onto my shirt.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" My voice cracked.

"Without you, I wouldn't have him."