Damn Good Reasons **DISCONTINUED - SEE NEW VER!**

33 Dreaming Memories

"Hey... are you OK? I walked by two hours ago, and you were here then."

I tried to focus my blurred vision on the guy who had just sat beside me on the park bench. He looked like the typical greaser type – leather jacket, blue jeans and a classic James Dean style pompadour. I eyed him from hair to boots, taking in the view of his masculine features, and not caring if he noticed me checking him out. After all, he'd come to me. If he didn't like it, he could leave.

I took a sip from my hipflask and then pulled my jacket up tighter around my neck to keep in the warmth. We were in a park that overlooked the Willamette River which flowed steadily before us and was apparently 40 feet deep in places.

"This is a rough neighborhood. It ain't the kinda place a girl should be alone at this time of night."

"No?" I answered. "I think it depends on the girl."

"And what makes this girl so different?"

"This girl's got nothin' left to live for."

He gave a short laugh. "That bad, huh?"

"My mother just died. Insurance wouldn't pay out, so I had to sell nearly everything we owned to pay for her funeral. And two days ago, my boyfriend left the state to get married. Not to me, obviously. So, yeah. It's that bad."

"Shit... sorry." He shifted uncomfortably beside me and clamped one leg on top of the other. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"Neither do I." For three hours, I had imagined jumping into the river and being carried away by the current, laying on my back like a starfish as I indulged in the grandeur of the stars above me. But I knew it was an idealistic fantasy. Drowning wouldn't be beautiful. I thought if I got enough whiskey into me, I could step off the edge without thinking about it. I took another sip.

"Actually, I do know what to say," the guy said, concentrating his view on the water. "There's always something to live for."

"Like what?" My tone was so utterly sarcastic, and I was acting so negative, I'm amazed he even bothered with me.

"Depends on the girl."

I smirked at how cleverly he'd just flung that back.

"What did you wanna do with your life before all the shit went down?"

"I dunno. I'm not particularly good at anything. I'm supposed to finish school, but I don't think I'll be able to go back there. I'll have to find a job now. I'll have to find a place to live, everything."

"It's gonna be a hard road, yeah," he shrugged. "But not if you jump tonight."

"Exactly."

"Oh well," he sighed. "Guess it's too bad for your kids who'll never get born. Or your grandkids. Your future husband who you ain't met yet, who you're gonna love from the bottom of your soul - well, forget him sweetheart, 'cause it looks like he'll have to fall in love with somebody else."

Never had words struck me with such a powerful reality hit. Visions and thoughts started to flood my mind - things I'd never do, things I'd never see. I gave him a crooked smile as I felt how joyful it would be to hold my babies in my arms and how sorrowful it would be if that never happened.

I looked down at my hipflask and resisted the urge to take another drink. I held it out to him, offering it to him. I thought, if he could help me drink it, there might not be enough left to fuel my courage.

"I don't drink," he said.

"Really? It's not too often you hear that."

"Alcohol doesn't sit well with me. And things are better when I'm in control." He took a packet of cigarettes from his jacket, put one between his lips and then offered me one.

I smirked at it. "I don't smoke."

"No kiddin'. Not too often I hear that." He lit up and took a long drag with the hot embers fluttering away with the breeze.

"I don't wanna finish this." It was an incredibly hard thing for me to say, but I forced the words to leave my lips. It was my final plead for help.

"You want me to make that easy for you?" Without me answering, he took the hipflask and drained it out right there on the grass.

He handed it back to me and I sniffed and wiped at my eyes as I tucked it away into my jacket pocket. Maybe all those good things were now a possibility.

"Want me to take you home?"

"No," I answered softly. "I don't wanna go back there. It's empty. Lonely."

"Then, you wanna go for some food? Coffee?"

I nodded, finding myself grinning from ear to ear with gratitude as he offered me a hand up. After sitting for three hours, planning out my death and being so resolved that it was gonna happen, walking away from that place was like walking off into a new timeline. Maybe one filled with adventure, good times and babies. I felt refreshed.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Cassie. What's yours?"

"Lewis."

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I had this scene at the start of the next chapter, but it was longer than I planned and didn't seem to fit like I had wanted it to.  Hence, it's own chapter.

I've been letting my muse lead me with Lewis's character, and I'm starting to get to know him better.  I'm working him all out. I could probably write an entire book on just Cass and Lewis now, but I definitely don't want to do that as part of this story. Some people have mentioned they want to know more about him, and that thought stuck with me which is why he's here. But I'll only add little excerpts as needed. I hope it wasn't too long - I didn't want it to be, but it just kinda turned out that way.