False Reality

Chapter 1

[copyright AubreyParsons ©2016]

O N E

I'VE ALWAYS HEARD several things about how to tell whether you're dreaming or not: an odd number of fingers, everyday things seeming out of place, unfamiliar areas, etcetera. Turns out, all of those are just glimpses into someone else's 'world', as we call it—sort of like seeing what's going on in their life through their own eyes.

I mean, my life wasn't perfect before I'd learned the truth. I'd broken bones just like everyone else, laughed, cried, had my heart broken, even broken a law or two.

Unfortunately, my dreaming and heartache weren't what woke me up from my world. No, me dying seemed to be the trick to accomplish that one. Guess I finally figured out where people go after they die, right? I think I would have preferred the heartache or broken bones. Anything would be better than what I woke up to, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name is Carmen Shepherd, and boy do I have a story to tell.

It all started only a few weeks ago, believe it or not. I'd been planing to go out with my friend's Travis, Renee, and Wyatt to see a movie when I got this foreboding feeling something bad was going to happen. Not that I'd expected some kind of Final Destination shit, but definitely something on the darker side. Maybe it was my body warning me I was about to wake up, but the one thing I knew for sure was that I wasn't too keen on feeling that gut wrenching nausea right then, or ever again in my lifetime. I couldn't stop checking over my shoulder for anything even remotely suspicious, and I obviously wasn't being too subtle considering my curious friends felt the need to question it.

"What's up?" Travis asked, slowing down to talk to me while Wyatt and Renee chatted ahead of us. "You seen stressed."

"I am," I answered simply. I pursed my lips and fought every instinct I had to look behind me again. Travis bit his lip to keep from laughing at my obvious struggle, receiving a nice long glare from myself. "Stop laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing," he protested with a grin, lifting his hands up in a placating manner. "Yet."

I punched his shoulder and laughed as he winced. "Jerk."

"Ouch," he muttered. Just to irritate me like he knew he was great at, he tilted his head down and glanced up at me through his brown hair with those doe eyes of his. "That hurt. Now, I'm going to be sad all day and it'll be your fault."

I snorted and crossed my arms over my chest. My eyes stayed averted from his, but we both knew I'd eventually give in and baby him. "You'll live, crybaby."

"What's going on?" Wyatt asked, his shoulder length blonde hair swishing behind him as he turned his head. I mentally thanked whatever deity was out there choosing to save me from my lack of free will.

"I think she's abusing Travis again," Renee offered, crossing her arms with mock judgement. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief and I knew she wanted to join in on the friendly abuse.

"Anyone gonna help out?" I grinned. "I know you want to."

Before anyone had the chance to do anything, a loud bang sounded through the air. My ears rang as dizziness set in, along with a warm but wet feeling soaking the torso of my shirt. The world twisted around me until I was suddenly on the ground, looking up through a blurry haze.

The ringing dulled down to muffled sounds as a searing pain pierced my rib cage. Travis cried out something and leapt towards me in shock, but I was too disoriented to figure out why. Just before he reached me, blood splattered out of his left temple and jerked him to the ground beside me.

I was too shocked to be scared or confused. The only thing I seemed capable of accomplishing in all the chaos was staring at the limp and motionless body of my best friend as his blank eyes stared through me. The thick, red liquid pooled around him, and a sudden urge to get away clawed at my every nerve.

Two more bangs rang off around me like a distant echo. I tried to pull myself away as the panic and realization of my situation set in stone in my mind. A scream tore through the air just as another shot rang off, and I barely had time to realize it was my own before the darkness clouded my vision and I sunk into what felt like an endless tunnel of silence.

That was how everything started, when I was shoved out of the imaginative state that was my life and sent into the real world.

My own personal hell started the day I was murdered.