(no subject)
This is Billy’s twenty-ninth nightmare since first seeing Penny in the bar. It’s exactly the same as all the others, painted in bright red and zombie gray. Surreal, in a way-dream colliding with memory.
Here is the scene: the girl he loves is dead, in the corner. Everyone stares. He kneels down by the body, watching the blood pool around her. He’s always despised people who say this in the movies, but he says it anyway:
“Please wake up. Please-“
He remembers this, of course. Hands shaking, lifting. When they put her in the ground, he was there, in the trees. He came back later, to put flowers and a frozen yogurt on the grave, and to say goodbye (in the way he’d never been able to say hello).
And then they’re alone, in a dark room, and she smiles at him.
When he’s conscious, Billy still can’t believe that she found this place, that she found him, after all the time it took to let the memory of her find a quiet place in his mind and rest.
He remembers her warm, sweet breath, utterly real and so familiar.
In the dream, she is still.
He reaches out to take her hand, to hold it tightly until death. But somehow, his fingers slip through her skin, as if she’s not there at all. She hands him a shard of metal.
He looks down, to examine it, and sees that his arms are dripping with dark blood.
Here is the scene: the girl he loves is dead, in the corner. Everyone stares. He kneels down by the body, watching the blood pool around her. He’s always despised people who say this in the movies, but he says it anyway:
“Please wake up. Please-“
He remembers this, of course. Hands shaking, lifting. When they put her in the ground, he was there, in the trees. He came back later, to put flowers and a frozen yogurt on the grave, and to say goodbye (in the way he’d never been able to say hello).
And then they’re alone, in a dark room, and she smiles at him.
When he’s conscious, Billy still can’t believe that she found this place, that she found him, after all the time it took to let the memory of her find a quiet place in his mind and rest.
He remembers her warm, sweet breath, utterly real and so familiar.
In the dream, she is still.
He reaches out to take her hand, to hold it tightly until death. But somehow, his fingers slip through her skin, as if she’s not there at all. She hands him a shard of metal.
He looks down, to examine it, and sees that his arms are dripping with dark blood.