Awakening
Where had the flowers and candle come from? They weren't supposed to be here anymore. Didn't this already happen during a happier time in his life?
Voices echoed in his head.
"Why don't you love me anymore? Wasn't I good enough for? Where did we go wrong?"
Silence. There was no response.
"Leighann?"
The wax of the candle popped ever so quietly and the flame flickered, casting moving shadows of the flowers onto the wall in front of him. He was being overcome with an emotion he thought he'd already put behind him.
"No, this isn't right. It's all wrong."
He looked around to gather his bearings, still disoriented by the inability to make sense of what was going on. There was no one around. No one sitting on the couch, watching him with loving eyes as there should be. No scent of their recent meal. Almost right, but not quite. He surveyed the scene on the inside of his apartment, trying still to figure out what circumstance had brought him here. He couldn't even remember five minutes ago. How had he gotten here?
That's when he noticed the gun on the table. He didn't own a gun, though.
"It's the only way..."
Startled, he whipped around to see who had said that. Quiet. Stillness.
"Who said that? What do you want from me?" No response.
He picked up the gun and inspected it. It was loaded. The cliche about "cold steel," he found, wasn't true. At least in this case, for the gun had a warmth to it. Not a warmth like it had been recently used, but a warmth like it had been recently held.
"Make the pain go away..."
FUCK! He spun around, leveling the gun at a person that simply didn't exist.
"Leave me alone," he whimpered. He was shaking by now... a mix of anxiety, depression and confusion brought him to the edge. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I miss her so bad. Why did she take her love away from me?"
"It's OK. You know what you have to do now. She can't hurt you anymore."
"But I'm scared," he replied. "Are you sure this is the only way?"
"Yes."
He stared at the gun for what seemed like an hour. Only seconds had passed. No further understanding came to him, but there was a sense of relief that lightly washed over him. The relief was that he was beginning to get his mind around what had to be done and soon there would be no more rejection or heartache.
"Yeah, it is the only way." Without the drama reserved for Hollywood movies, he brought the gun to his mouth in a swift motion, pointed it upwards and fired.
-------------------
"HOLY SHIT!!" He snapped awake, startled, and fell backwards in his chair, landing on his back with a thud. He was breathing heavily, curious that he was still alive, though. Disoriented, he was trying to figure out where he was when he heard a rustling noise to his left.
"Aaron?" It was a female voice that should've been familiar, but in his current state, he couldn't make sense of anything. "Aaron... what happened?"
He looked over. What is SHE doing here?
"Leighann?"
"Yeah, what's going on? You fell back in your chair and it woke me up. Are you OK, sweetie?"
It had just been a bad dream. He hadn't shot himself. Looking around his room, he noticed his computer screen -- the flowers... the candles. It was coming back to him. He had given those flowers to Leighann for Valentines Day. On the table, against the light of a lone candle, they looked so beautiful, so he took a picture.
(Here's the picture.)
He had been looking through his pictures and come to rest on that one. Staring at it for a while, he had fallen asleep and had a bad dream. His breathing was returning to normal as he got up and righted his chair.
Assured that he was NOT dead, he went to the edge of the bed and sat next to her. She smiled up at him with that familiar smile that he'd grown to love. He gently reached up and touched her cheek with his hand. She leaned her head into his hand, closed her eyes, and gently moaned with contentment.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too... You should come to bed now. I want you to hold me."
He layed down beside her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. God, he loved her so much that it hurt sometimes. He wondered if she really understood that. It was often that he'd had to pinch himself, wondering if it was all just one of those too-good-to-be true dreams that you wake from, finding yourself all alone in a dark room.
"I should pinch myself one more time, just be sure," he thought.
But he didn't. He didn't need to. He'd already pinched himself so many times that he could now relax and just concentrate on being happy. And happiness, for him, was the beautiful young lady laying next to him right now. She could lift his spirits with a simple smile and ease his worries with her soft voice. She completed him in a way that no other girl had ever completed him before.
As he lay there in bed, waiting to ease back into the gentle sleep he'd grown so accustomed to, his mind wandered back to his dream. What did it mean? Why in the world would he want to shoot himself when he was absolutely happy with his life right now? That was one of the more bizarre dreams he'd had in a while, but it seemed so real... so vivid... so powerful. It was almost TOO real.
Only thing was, it wasn't real. He was alive. She was beside him in his bed. He smiled to himself, then kissed her gently on the neck, before easing off into a slumber.
------------------------------
"Wake up, Aaron."
He slowly emerged from his deep sleep at the insistence of the voice. Twisting a little, to shake off the stiffness in his muscles, he opened his eyes. It was still dark out -- the middle of the night, in fact. He looked over at the clock... 4:05am.
Why was anyone telling him to wake up at this hour?
Soon, he became aware that she wasn't in bed with him anymore. He looked around the room, but she was nowhere to be seen. Who had said that? Where was Leighann?
He thought for a minute, trying desperately to shake off the cobwebs from his mind and make sense of what was going on. Had he been dreaming about her being here? AND WHO THE HELL SAID THAT!?!?
He was getting frustrated by his lack of understanding in what should've been a simple concept.
"Think for a minute, Aaron," he told himself.
Reality was a bitter pill to swallow. He was alone. There was no Leighann. In fact, there hadn't been any Leighann for over three months now. His computer wasn't on. His chair was right where he'd left it last night.
He hadn't cried over her in months. He had thought about her often, but now without the emotional distress it used to cause him. He was well into the process of getting over her, if not all the way there, he had thought. There had been other girls since her and there were currently girls who had his attention. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.
He lay in his bed, staring at his ceiling. A familiar feeling crept up from deep within him. It's rise was inevitable, so he didn't bother trying to suppress it. When the tears came, they came freely and heavily. He felt so very alone. He felt a great sense of loss... losing something worth keeping.
As near as he could tell, he'd woken himself up to deal with this surge of emotion that had been invoked during his dream and wanted his distinct attention. The subconscious is a powerful mechanism and it had unleashed a torrent upon him.
Eventually, the wave of emotion began to subside and the tears slowed. Catching his breath, he rolled to his side, clutched his pillow and tried to go back to sleep.
"Where's that gun when I really need it?"
Voices echoed in his head.
"Why don't you love me anymore? Wasn't I good enough for? Where did we go wrong?"
Silence. There was no response.
"Leighann?"
The wax of the candle popped ever so quietly and the flame flickered, casting moving shadows of the flowers onto the wall in front of him. He was being overcome with an emotion he thought he'd already put behind him.
"No, this isn't right. It's all wrong."
He looked around to gather his bearings, still disoriented by the inability to make sense of what was going on. There was no one around. No one sitting on the couch, watching him with loving eyes as there should be. No scent of their recent meal. Almost right, but not quite. He surveyed the scene on the inside of his apartment, trying still to figure out what circumstance had brought him here. He couldn't even remember five minutes ago. How had he gotten here?
That's when he noticed the gun on the table. He didn't own a gun, though.
"It's the only way..."
Startled, he whipped around to see who had said that. Quiet. Stillness.
"Who said that? What do you want from me?" No response.
He picked up the gun and inspected it. It was loaded. The cliche about "cold steel," he found, wasn't true. At least in this case, for the gun had a warmth to it. Not a warmth like it had been recently used, but a warmth like it had been recently held.
"Make the pain go away..."
FUCK! He spun around, leveling the gun at a person that simply didn't exist.
"Leave me alone," he whimpered. He was shaking by now... a mix of anxiety, depression and confusion brought him to the edge. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I miss her so bad. Why did she take her love away from me?"
"It's OK. You know what you have to do now. She can't hurt you anymore."
"But I'm scared," he replied. "Are you sure this is the only way?"
"Yes."
He stared at the gun for what seemed like an hour. Only seconds had passed. No further understanding came to him, but there was a sense of relief that lightly washed over him. The relief was that he was beginning to get his mind around what had to be done and soon there would be no more rejection or heartache.
"Yeah, it is the only way." Without the drama reserved for Hollywood movies, he brought the gun to his mouth in a swift motion, pointed it upwards and fired.
-------------------
"HOLY SHIT!!" He snapped awake, startled, and fell backwards in his chair, landing on his back with a thud. He was breathing heavily, curious that he was still alive, though. Disoriented, he was trying to figure out where he was when he heard a rustling noise to his left.
"Aaron?" It was a female voice that should've been familiar, but in his current state, he couldn't make sense of anything. "Aaron... what happened?"
He looked over. What is SHE doing here?
"Leighann?"
"Yeah, what's going on? You fell back in your chair and it woke me up. Are you OK, sweetie?"
It had just been a bad dream. He hadn't shot himself. Looking around his room, he noticed his computer screen -- the flowers... the candles. It was coming back to him. He had given those flowers to Leighann for Valentines Day. On the table, against the light of a lone candle, they looked so beautiful, so he took a picture.
(Here's the picture.)
He had been looking through his pictures and come to rest on that one. Staring at it for a while, he had fallen asleep and had a bad dream. His breathing was returning to normal as he got up and righted his chair.
Assured that he was NOT dead, he went to the edge of the bed and sat next to her. She smiled up at him with that familiar smile that he'd grown to love. He gently reached up and touched her cheek with his hand. She leaned her head into his hand, closed her eyes, and gently moaned with contentment.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too... You should come to bed now. I want you to hold me."
He layed down beside her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. God, he loved her so much that it hurt sometimes. He wondered if she really understood that. It was often that he'd had to pinch himself, wondering if it was all just one of those too-good-to-be true dreams that you wake from, finding yourself all alone in a dark room.
"I should pinch myself one more time, just be sure," he thought.
But he didn't. He didn't need to. He'd already pinched himself so many times that he could now relax and just concentrate on being happy. And happiness, for him, was the beautiful young lady laying next to him right now. She could lift his spirits with a simple smile and ease his worries with her soft voice. She completed him in a way that no other girl had ever completed him before.
As he lay there in bed, waiting to ease back into the gentle sleep he'd grown so accustomed to, his mind wandered back to his dream. What did it mean? Why in the world would he want to shoot himself when he was absolutely happy with his life right now? That was one of the more bizarre dreams he'd had in a while, but it seemed so real... so vivid... so powerful. It was almost TOO real.
Only thing was, it wasn't real. He was alive. She was beside him in his bed. He smiled to himself, then kissed her gently on the neck, before easing off into a slumber.
------------------------------
"Wake up, Aaron."
He slowly emerged from his deep sleep at the insistence of the voice. Twisting a little, to shake off the stiffness in his muscles, he opened his eyes. It was still dark out -- the middle of the night, in fact. He looked over at the clock... 4:05am.
Why was anyone telling him to wake up at this hour?
Soon, he became aware that she wasn't in bed with him anymore. He looked around the room, but she was nowhere to be seen. Who had said that? Where was Leighann?
He thought for a minute, trying desperately to shake off the cobwebs from his mind and make sense of what was going on. Had he been dreaming about her being here? AND WHO THE HELL SAID THAT!?!?
He was getting frustrated by his lack of understanding in what should've been a simple concept.
"Think for a minute, Aaron," he told himself.
Reality was a bitter pill to swallow. He was alone. There was no Leighann. In fact, there hadn't been any Leighann for over three months now. His computer wasn't on. His chair was right where he'd left it last night.
He hadn't cried over her in months. He had thought about her often, but now without the emotional distress it used to cause him. He was well into the process of getting over her, if not all the way there, he had thought. There had been other girls since her and there were currently girls who had his attention. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.
He lay in his bed, staring at his ceiling. A familiar feeling crept up from deep within him. It's rise was inevitable, so he didn't bother trying to suppress it. When the tears came, they came freely and heavily. He felt so very alone. He felt a great sense of loss... losing something worth keeping.
As near as he could tell, he'd woken himself up to deal with this surge of emotion that had been invoked during his dream and wanted his distinct attention. The subconscious is a powerful mechanism and it had unleashed a torrent upon him.
Eventually, the wave of emotion began to subside and the tears slowed. Catching his breath, he rolled to his side, clutched his pillow and tried to go back to sleep.
"Where's that gun when I really need it?"