Dreamscape
I wouldn't say that I'm in love with Calvin anymore.
But god knows I love the guy.
And I don't like people
Dying.
Type your cut contents here.
Calvin and I were at my mother's office, preparing for something. Something horrible, reminicent of the Dark Power/Lone Power. Calvin had been tasked with stopping whatever it was from happening, and both of us knew he would die if he went unassisted.
Both of us were researching what to do, as if he had even a slight chance. But, as the time approached, we kind of said “fuck it” and had rabid sex. The whole event was filled with some kind of intense terror, and I promised him that I was coming with him, because he was not allowed to die. I wasn't going to let it happen.
“Are...you going to die tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I'm coming too, then.”
He was, of course, not happy with this. I may be older, but there was no doubt for either of us that he was the more experienced. Well, fuck that, I was going with him. He agreed to bring me, and we left. Several hours later, we arrived at a place that seemed kind of like my house, in that it was in a bowl valley, had a stream, a pond and a porch.
Everything was orange, in exactly the same way as Apocalypse Day at Pisgah. Except, there, it was the obvious and easily understandable result of fog and sunrise. This had no knowable cause, but it gripped me to my soul and made me sick with fear.
We went into the house, and it was laid out exactly the same as my home. But, I knew, and Calvin did as well, that it was some kind of twisted joke, caused by whatever power we were pursuing- or was pursuing us.
His decision was to burn the building down. I accepted it, and helped him spread the kerosene in the back half of the hours, where my mother's room and the fireplace were. Then, we ran to the front of the house, and I started struggling my way into rain clothes, to go outside, because it had begun to storm violently.
But, Calvin wasn't putting on a coat. He was staring into the back of the house. And I got scared, then. Something was wrong. My internal narrator provided:
“Just because he brought you... If a guy is setting fire to a house, and isn't putting on the equipment to go back outside, he is planning to die.”
I had a total fit, at that point. The fire hadn't taken yet, because we were counting on it to be set by the wood stove, which we had left open. I started hitting him, and demanding he move. I came so he wouldn't die, for god's sake! HE had to go.
But he wouldn't move, and he looked at me and said that it wasn't worth leaving, and that he didn't want to be here anymore, because this life was horrible and he needed to get away.
And I promised him if he just came with me, we could run. I had five grand in the bank, that'd be enough to get started somewhere else, if he'd just come with me, please, please, please.
We went into 'my' room then, and started pulling clothes out of the closet. We got out of the house with my white travel bag and my laptop, and I thought everything was going to be fine, but there was still such a wrongness in the air, the bright, orange air.
I looked up at him, then, as we were running for his car, and all I knew was that, whatever I had been trying to do, I had failed. I had just enough time to damn myself before I woke up, knowing in my stomach that he was dead.