It’s the flower. It has dried blood on it. My pain comes back.
I look around at my surroundings. I’m outside and it’s a day just like the one I talked of before. It’s gray, windy, cold, and quiet. There is no one around and I am alone in this nightmare. I can only think of one place I would be and I am there. So many graves surrounded me, each one bearing a story like mine. The grave I stood in front of was Sandra’s. It had her name on it and under that was the year she was born and the year she died. There was an epitaph below but I didn’t read it. I scanned her name. I kept hoping it spelled someone else’s name and not hers. I was compelled to rest the flower on top of her tombstone. I did, but it only brought more pain. “What was the point of this nightmare!” I yelled in anger. I stood up and took a couple steps back. “Why do I need to experience pain.” I looked down at her name, Sandra. I turned away and looked off in the distance. “This is all to unbearable, my soul is crushed. Oh God let me out of this horrible nightmare please!” I wept into my hand for a minute or so. I spoke more words, my eyes shielded from the horror. “I want out. This is a bad dream! Just wake me up damn it! Why does the person I love have to die in this imaginary world its pointless. I know now that this dream was meant to teach me a lesson about life so when I wake I am going to hold onto Sandra and never let her go.” I took my hand away from my tear soaked eyes and the cool air made them squint. “Why the fuck haven’t I awakened yet!” I looked back at her tombstone and read the same words, Sandra… I saw a crow, out of place, sitting in a bear tree. I walked over to it and spoke to it. “I know I am dreaming now, why do I still feel sadness. Why can’t this end when I want it to? Why won’t I wake up!” It let out a caw and flew away. My body was trembling now. I was frozen and confused. “My God.” I said quietly to myself. Chills of sadness came over me and I began to weep even more. I turned and looked back at the tombstone. Sandra was still spelled out on it.
I dropped to my knees on her grave and fell over. I laid on my stomach 6 feet over her real life body now. There was nothing blurry or forgettable about this. These last few days were a nightmare to me and killed my spirit. Everything was real. I thought it wasn’t so. Up until now I did not accept it. I am laying here recalling these sad days and speaking to the mist. I have gone numb. I can not move. I just lay here and play back this story over and over in my head. Maybe the groundskeeper will find me and take me home. I don’t care any more. The knife was not blurry; it was not a rainbow color. It was what a knife would look like in real life. Many other things did too but they posed no relevance to my story and I did not notice them. I should have noticed them. If I had Sandra might have been saved.
I can’t see her face any more except when I play back my story in my head, but then it carries with it the pain of the rest of the nightmare that I must live with forever.
