Enter Night 《Cliff Burton》

13

                 I shifted, half asleep, wondering why my bed was suddenly so uncomfortable. It was cold and wet; nothing like how my bed usually felt. It felt almost like grass, and I couldn't find my sheets. Or pillows, for that matter. I slowly opened my eyes, and was surprised to see the sky, cloudy and bleak just like the day before.

It turned out I was asleep on grass. Ice-covered grass.

                I glanced at my right, and recognized the smooth black stone next to me. Cliff Burton's memorial stone.

That suddenly brought me back to the events from the night before.

                  The accident... the bus. I looked down at my own hands. My breath caught in my throat.

I was see-through. Just like Cliff.

                  There seemed to be no injuries on me, surprisingly. I also noticed I was wearing what I wore the most during my lifetime - a Metallica T-shirt I got from one of their gigs in Copenhagen, a pair of ripped black jeans and white Vans.

I sat up straight and tried to brush dirt off my T-shirt using my hands.

Which was when I realized I wasn't alone. I froze.

             There were a lot of people around me, people of all ages and all tastes. Most of them looked like they belonged in an older generation, with their large sweaters and pocketed dresses. Despite the differences, they all had the same universally depressed expression on their faces. Some - mostly younger kids - were sitting on tree branches, some were sitting on the grass like me, and others were just standing around.

None of them acknowledged my presence, or even moved.

               "Ronnie?" I jumped slightly as I heard someone whisper my name. I whipped my head around in the direction of where the sound came from.

Cliff was peeking out from behind a nearby oak tree, beckoning me to come over.

               With shaky legs, I stood up and ran both hands through my hair. I slowly made my way over to the late Metallica bassist.

"How do you feel?" Cliff asked, once I approached him. I shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Dead." He let out a short chuckle, but his face went back to the same grim expression as before immediately.

               I took a deep breath before getting straight to the point. "Um... did you actually kill me?"

Cliff visibly flinched.

"Actually, no. I had no intention of killing you." He leaned back against the tree and put his hands in his jeans pockets. "But... I guess I did get you killed."

"You.. didn't kill me?" I asked, confused. "But you'd always hinted at killing me if I told anyone about you!"

"1, I never directly said I was gonna kill you. 2, I was just trying to inflict fear in you just so you won't tell anyone." Cliff shrugged.

              "You could've just nicely asked me." I sighed. "But I guess it wouldn't have made a difference."

"No, it would," Cliff turned to face me. "If I didn't act like such a tough hitman with you, we could've been proper friends."

That caught me off guard. "That... that's all you wanted? To be friends with me?"

Cliff looked away from me and started playing with a string on his jacket. "Uh, yeah. But I'm an idiot." He brushed his hand through his hair. "Anyway, this isn't what I wanted to talk about."