Dream Nightmare

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Sunday Night

          “I… I just don’t feel like talking about it right now…” I say. My best friend had just died, and my thoughts… They were going crazy, racing. The last thing he said to me is what’s killing me the most. He wanted me to forgive him. That was the last thing he chose to think about before he left our world. I do. I do forgive him… I never should have gotten mad at him for not telling me about his Dream Nightmare.

          Right now we were at another hotel – I cried the entire four hour walk here. It was just Christina and me as Ghost died because Connor died – protectors died when their partners died. Our room had two beds, both made, that are to the immediate left after walking through the door. To the right is a stand where the TV was, and if you kept walking straight, after entering, you would hit the sinks, with the door to the left holding the bathroom and closet.

          “It’s healthy to talk about it. It will make you feel better,” Christina says. I was sitting Indian Style on the bed closer to the door, with her, on her knees, next to me, holding me close in her arms.

          “But I don’t want to start crying again. I just look like a huge baby to you, because guys aren’t supposed to cry.” I had never seen another guy cry, in all of my existence, so I couldn’t do it either. I was a man, not a baby. 

          “Ha-ha, you’re so adorable. Whoever taught you that is stupid. You have to cry, it’s a human emotion, and it helps you feel better.”

          I sigh, and I look down at my sheets, green with purple flowers. Personally, I thought they were ugly, but Christina insisted we get the nicest room, so I assume it was supposed to be nice to some people.

          “Plus, I kind of like a guy who isn’t afraid to show tears.”

          So I cry, and I cry, and I mourn for the loss of my best friend.

Monday Morning

          “Wake up, Envy!” I open my eyes and see Christina’s left her bed to come bounce on mine with her knees. She’s finally changed clothes; she now wears these black, skin-tight, fabric pants, and a low cut, blue T-shirt.

          “Ugh,” I moan. I hate waking up, I’ve never been a morning person.

          “It’s time to go to the beach! You said we could go today!” I feel really good this morning. I don’t know why, maybe it was the dream nightmare, but for some reason I’m no longer hurt over the whole Connor thing. I feel like I should just accept it, that it’s a natural part of life. People live, people die. It’s the life cycle.

          “I change my mind, we can’t go to the beach today. You snored so loud last night that I couldn’t get any sleep,” I say. She doesn’t snore at all – from what I know – but I told her that to tease her; it was fun.

          She makes a noise like she’s mad about what I just said, then she grabs the blanket – that covers me from my waist down – and throws it over my head, holding it in place. She is on top of the blanket – that is on top of me – and straddled over my abdomen. As much as I struggle, I can’t get free.

          “Let me go!” I laugh, knowing she’s only playing.

          “Not until you agree that we can go to the beach!” She laughs too.

          “Never!”

          She pulls the blanket down, just a little, and presses it over my neck.  Her long, blonde hair cascades down on both sides of my face, like a curtain, and we gaze into each other’s eyes. This feeling of helplessness, being trapped by the girl I’ve loved for so long, is something I could really get used to.