I rolled over and squinted at the clock, and I let out a groan when I made out the time. 5:17 AM. So much for a good night's sleep. With all the adrenaline pumping I would never be able to fall back asleep before my alarm. And... That wasn't all I was feeling. Something else- a sense of loss? I rubbed at my eyes and thought hard, but I couldn't remember what the dream had been about. No big deal. Just a dream. I threw my legs over the side of bed and struggled to my feet, then braced myself against the wall for a second until the room stopped spinning.
I lumbered downstairs and turned on the lights; the sun had already begun to rise but the dim red glow it cast over the sky wasn't enough. I set about making breakfast- unborn birds screamed as I cracked eggs for my egg-white sandwich and the familiar smell of kerosene filled the air as I fried them up- I ate ravenously. An hour later I was clean and dressed in my nicest suit, although I will admit I don't remember showering or dressing.
I decided along the way to take a different route to work, which I suppose is where the trouble started. I'd take the long way; I had a fast car and plenty of time. But sure enough the empty light clicked on fifteen minutes later, even though I was sure the tank had been full when I left home. My car sputtered and died, and I struggled to get out before it burst into flames. I stretched and watched it burn for a minute with a frown on my face; that wouldn't do at all. I had to get to work somehow, that was just my responsibility. I shrugged and stuck out my thumb.
It wasn't long before a car stopped. I knew the driver well, she was a girl I used to be very close with. I knew her inside and out, and she knew me the same way. Given our history I should have been hesitant to get in, but I was honestly thrilled to see her. She was a very beautiful girl. She didn't say a word to me while I was in the car, and I think I fell asleep on the ride because I woke up in her apartment.
It looked exactly the same as it had the last time I had been there, with cushions all over the floor and dog hair on every surface. I knew I was late for work but all of a sudden she was in my arms again, and work didn't matter.
I stroked her hair and I kissed her lips and I looked into her eyes. "Baby," I said. "Where have you been?"
She didn't say anything, she just stared at me sadly.
"What's the matter, why don't you say something?" I said.
She didn't.
"Talk to me!" I screamed. There was something wrong. It didn't make sense. Why couldn't she speak? Panic crossed her face, and before I could react she slipped out of my embrace.
The apartment was on fire, now. Wood groaned as it burned, and it hurt to open my eyes. She slid across the floor, arms stretched out to me, pleading, begging me to help her. I ran as fast as I could through the smoke, but I just couldn't catch her, couldn't save her. She slid into the flames... And she screamed.
I woke up with tears on my face for the third morning in a row. I slid out of bed and put on my best suit, then made an egg sandwich for breakfast. Got in my car and drove. I didn't want to go, but we all have responsibilities, right? I pulled into the cemetery and parked in front of her grave stone. The silence was deafening.
"Talk to me, baby," I whispered.
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