This is a completely fictional work by me, made up entirely by me. Don't read if its illegal for you to, blah blah blah. yeah, you know the drill. If you like what you see, or don't, I'm very open to comments, so feel free to send them over to jimenezsmn at yahoo dot com. If I get hate mail, I just might cry.
Copyright 2007.
- What Dreams May Come
Melting droplets of water beaded and jerked down a long icicle which hung from an overhead tree branch. My eyes followed each drop pushing the other forward down the slope, until finally they hung off the curved tip of the ice. I waited for stretched minutes until the molecules threw in the towel and let go of the ice, allowing the droplet of water to free fall through the cold stilted air. The drop hit red liquid, disturbing the stillness in my puddle of blood. More drops continued to descend into the lake of red which flowed free from my scalp, into the many crevasses of ice, then down into the gutters of the road.
It was night. Nobody in this suburban neighborhood ventures out at night, not on ones as cold as this, where your breath forms crystals in mid air. Then why was I out? Simple; I didn't want to be in my house anymore, so I left. Everything I held close was now in the brown leather suitcase that lay next to me on the thick layers of icy winter. I should've looked where I was going, for sure. But when you're running away from home, you'll find that your mind isn't focused on where you're stepping.
My thoughts before I slipped and smashed my head into the jagged ice revolved mainly around where I could crash for the night. I couldn't stay with Susie. Her mom didn't like most of her friends, doubly so for me. Definitely not Jack. I could stand sleeping on his Pringles encrusted floor, but not his uncle. His fists hurt more than Dad's. I considered Molly, but I quickly remembered that she was a no go. She was in Connecticut visiting her perfect family.
None of that mattered though. I couldn't feel my legs or my hands. No matter the pure force of will I drained from every last sweat, no amount of energy could lift me up off the frozen ground. In my mind, I panicked, as I couldn't move my mouth. I couldn't call for help. I was stuck surrounded by houses full of people, with slow certain death bleeding from my head, and no hope to save me.
It's amazing how much you're able to think in such a condition. I thought about Gwyn, my sister. How she was probably crying now that I had run away, and how my parents didn't even care. I wish I could tell her I was only down the street, with my arm hanging off the curve of where our old school bus stop used to be. It wasn't to be though. I sucked at telepathy.
My thoughts turned to Brody. I wondered if he was still at the hospital with his mom, playing bridge, her favorite game. If he was making that same annoying victory dance each time he won. I smiled inside, betting that once in a while, his mind turned from his mom quick enough to see a picture of me, waiting for him to call. I didn't tell him I was running away today. I hadn't even considered staying at his house. Never would I want him to take pity on me.
But, again, that didn't matter. None of it mattered. I could feel my head become so much lighter as my wine of life spread throughout the Barnes' front lawn. The world became lighter, even though it was near midnight. My cheeks felt warm.
Then, footsteps began to crack over the frozen asphalt. I could sense my head turn ever so slightly, catching sight of a dark figure that slowly came into view. The blood became insignificant as I faced an elderly woman wrapped in a heavy brown cloth; only, huge black wings had erupted out of her back like a blooming rose. They were wings of night; a beautiful, fearsome visage.
She stooped down so that her gnarly nose was inches from mine. Her breath caressed my face in gentle wisps. It smelt of crushed lilacs and hydrangeas. She spoke in a grainy, filtered voice that sounded like an old radio.
"Harbor, is it?" She knew my name.
Suddenly, I could speak, but only in a crying whisper. "Yes."
Her spidery fingers combed through the thick mess of brown hair that had begun to clump together due to the frozen blood. She straightened my hair out, gently tugging it away from my scalp, cleaning off bits of me that had become entangled in it. I could not feel what she did to me, only see it. And see it I did, in curious fascination.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
Her hands drew back and stroked a tear that had begun to drip down my temple.
"Harbor... I'm sorry, but, you are going to die tonight."
Another tear replaced the one she wiped away. "Figured as much. It's not like anyone is coming to help me anytime soon." I squinted my eyes, trying to make out her more defined features. She looked intensely familiar. "Who are you?"
"I'm the angel of death, Harbor."
I coughed a laugh. Another droplet of water hit my blood. "Always thought you'd be a little more intimidating."
"For some people, I am." She whispered in serene calm as she combed her fingers through my hair. "I embody whatever the fated person deserves. For you, I am what was lacking in your life, a tender adult."
"Yeah..." My eyes melted in tears. "Could've used one of those..."
Death smiled. "Well, I'm here now."
I closed my eyes, shutting away the pain of night, and welcoming the bliss of ignorance. All I felt was her gentle stroke of hair, her warm breath, the still night. I felt a peace that had left eons ago, revolving through and out my young slow drumming heart.
Then she spoke.
"I want you to think, Harbor, of everyone you know here in this world of Real." She swiped another tear. "Who will you miss most?"
Thousands of names flashed through my mind, most were people in school I knew. My parents' names were not on my list. Neither was Johnny, that bastard bully in the seventh grade, or Melvin, the boy who drowned himself in self pity. No, only one name burned through my skull and out my mouth.
"Brody."
"Would you like to see him one more time?" She asked. I was reminded of when my grandmother would ask me if I wanted yet another cookie, when my mom wasn't looking of course. I always took. "I can do that for you."
"Why for me?"
She smiled, giving way to a row of craggy teeth. "For the dying good, any last requests are possible. But you must ask for them before the time is up." Her black beady eyes stayed on mine, waiting for a response. A gentle silence flew in with a gust of bitter wind, and left down the main road. "What do you request, good soul?"
"To see Brody again." My voice came through clear, like it would any other day. Death closed her wrinkled eyelids over her pearly black dates, and took one slow deliberate breath. It seemed to last forever. Wisps of steam kept flowing from her mouth until all I could see was grey matter.
Soft, fuzzy, and grey.
Alive. I was Alive. Instantly, I had control of my body again. I stretched my legs out. I pulled my arms backward. My hand explored my scalp, which was now devoid of anything violent. I felt my face smile again. Warmth exploded through my body as the grey matter separated and dispersed, landing me softly in the middle of a glowing hospital corridor.
A wrinkled hand found its way on my shoulder.
"He's waiting for you." She whispered. "You have five minutes." She gently pushed me forward. "Go."
As soon as that green light was spoken, my hand drew itself out and onto the circular knob that would open the door to room 55F. Brody was on the other side of this door.
That realization brought my thoughts to full circle. What was I going to say to him? What could I say? There were so many things and only five minutes... Five minutes. What could I possibly say in five minutes?
With a troubled mind, I entered. The door brought a breeze from the hallway into the bedroom, blowing my hair slightly wayward. My eyes had to adjust to the sudden wave of light that hit me as I stepped inside. I felt so cold. I never liked it in here.
His mom was asleep in bed, her blonde threads tied back into a fine tail. That looked like his work. He himself was dozing off as well. None had noticed that I had entered. My feet found their ground in front of the chair he slept in. Brody looked so peaceful; I didn't want to wake him. But when he mouthed my name in his sleep, nothing could stop me from shaking his shoulder.
"Brod... dude, wake up." He suddenly woke up and slapped my hand away, then looked instantly sorry as he realized who I was. He started laughing. "Sorry, Harbor.... didn't know it was you." He began to rub his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
And there it was. The question for which I had no answer. Well, no answer I wanted to give him. I really had no business for being there, as I knew he liked to spend this time alone with his mom. I felt bad for interrupting it, but this was much too important, even though I had absolutely nothing to say.
"I--" I stopped. What was I doing? There was no way to explain everything. No time to explain that I was going to die. With this in mind, I sighed deeply, preparing myself for my last conversation. "Can we talk outside? Just for a couple minutes."
Brody looked back at his mom, then at me. "Um, sure, I guess."
I kept my eyes on him as we walked out the room and closed the door behind us. The halls were stark empty, and Death was gone for the time being. Brody leaned into the opposite wall, against a bulletin board. I just stood in front of him, no sure what to say. A long drawn out silence later, he decided to start.
"So, what's up?"
I started to talk about random stuff. Like, how I shot milk out of my nose during lunch, or when I tripped down the main staircase of our school (32 steps, by the way) and was completely fine. He laughed at it all. Our conversation took many random hooks and turns for hours. It always did. Yet, this time, I was slightly rushed, which led me to ask him:
"Do you remember when we were seven, and you wanted to play star command, and I wanted to play Hide and seek?"
"Star commander is awesome."
"Uh, no... Hide and seek is awesome. Star commander blows."
His laughed rebounded off the white walls. "Is that what you want to talk about?" He shook his head, smiling. "I remember. It was our first fight. God... how do we remember that?"
He was right. It was strange that I could remember our entire history together. So many memories to choose from, our whole friendship on display. Tanks, asteroids, Nintendo, girls, music, food, sleepovers... everything. "Yeah, well, it's just that I was thinking about what you said to me then."
His face contorted in disbelief. "What could I have possibly said back then that you still remember?"
"Well, when we stopped fighting, you said that you were sorry."
"People tend to say that after a fight. Even children."
My eyes rolled on reflex. "Of course. What I'm trying to say is... I've never once apologized to you. You were always the one to apologize first. I was always too stubborn."
"So? I never needed to hear you say it." He looked at the floor. "I always knew when you were. Sorry, that is."
"Well, just for kicks then, I'm sorry that I never said sorry."
He looked back up at me. "Feel better now?"
I didn't answer. I just walked forward and hugged him tighter than his piano-wire sneaker laces. He gasped from the abrupt force, but I could feel his muscles relax after a while.
"Jesus, you hug tight." He sighed. "I'm not going anywhere, if that's what you're worried about."
No... that wasn't it. I just wanted to remember everything about my friend before I left this world. Of all the different memories I had collected like fireflies in a glass jar, this one, the feel of Brody, was the one I wanted to keep alive, even after death. Wistful remembrances and uncorked champagne bottles flooded my mind. Goodbye, Brody.
"What do you mean, 'goodbye'?"
And I was gone. I felt as though I had woken up from a dream with life in my hands, when in fact, I was only holding crumpled blanket. I cried as light waves flew by my being, my soul hurtling into the great divide between awake and dream. I could see Brody off in the distance, falling onto the floor in surprise, calling out my name. He kept calling until all I heard was soft radio disturbance, like sand paper on asphalt.
Suddenly, all the lights disappeared. The darkness swirled like molasses smeared coffee, burning up into a fuzz of perpetual black. I floated among this empty space that I assumed to be the gateway into the Next. I felt incredibly alone, my eyes not able to scope much more than the pure emptiness of my space.
Death's voice echoed through my hallowed space.
"This is it, Harbor. This is the end. Are you ready?"
I was still crying. The emptiness of was suffocating.
"Not nearly." I had to bend down, the tears were so heavy. A long bitter laugh found its way out my mouth. My red eyes looked up at the dark. "Does everyone take it this hard?"
And that was when death took me by the hand and looked me straight in the eye. "Some do, some don't. All you need to know is this: you are doing an amazing job, Harbor." Her soft hand held my face like a chalice. "It's a terrible world we live in where the good die young."
"I don't want to leave." By now I was buried in her shoulder, smothering my feelings into her bony skin. "Please... please don't let me die." Don't let me miss my sister, my graduation, my random walks around the neighborhood, my new job, my future house.... Brody. Don't let me miss my life...
"I'm sorry, Harbor," She said, her voice whispered and drawn, "but this is how it all goes down."
"Please..." I begged, "I'll do anything, anything. I just want to stay with...him."
Bottled feelings of tears and anger burst forth, causing me to grapple onto her for support. My face burned so much, my limbs weak from trying to hold onto this life. I just wanted to stay with Brody. Just wanted her to grant me that one wish.
"There is a way." I looked up at her, choking back a sob. Her voice was uncertain. She looked at me gravely. "You are a good soul. There is one alternative for you."
"Please, what is it? I'll do anything..."
She waved her fingers in the air, mouthing strange words. A door appeared in front of me, ornate with intricate wooden grooves and edges. A lion was etched into the frame, spanning the entire length of the door. My hand breezed over the strange glowing oak which felt like the surface of a pillow.
"This is the Door of Changing." He hand grabbed my arm. "If you truly do desire to be with your Brody, you may walk through this door, and become a Spirit."
"I--"
"This is your only alternative. To serve under the cosmos for the rest of time, bringing souls back home, among the stars, to fight for spirit's balance." She stepped away, folding her arms. "What say you, good soul? What do you request? Eternal rest or Eternal being?"
Truth be told, at the time, the only words I heard were 'with your Brody'. I didn't hear anything about cosmos, souls, death, fighting for spirits, whatever. Just the thought of evading death and seeing Brody again circled my mind, controlling my hand as it pressed itself against the wooden door, pushing forward with a strange assertive confidence.
The grey matter fluttered by, grasping me in its chilling hand. I got lost in the thick cloud of muddy dispersion once more, until I saw the light dawn, and I was back on the ice, breathing hard and fast. Only this time, I was watching myself die, bleeding life onto the very roads I had once walked.
I watched as I violently convulsed, and then stopped. I watched as the man walking his dog found my body, and called for help. I watched as the funeral went down, my whole family there, sitting silently, watching as my body was lowered into the depths of earth. I watched as my parents walked from my grave, never to return again.
But none of that mattered. What interested me the most was watching Brody as he walked up to my grave, crying. I yelled and screamed "I'm right here. Don't cry. I'm right here" But he cried anyway. I tried to wipe his tears away, but my hand simply floated through.
"He can't hear you. No one can. You are not on Earth anymore, Brody." Death walked up to me and placed her thin hand on my bare back. A shiver stabbed my spine. "You are now a part of the Earth, one with the cycle, a Spirit. The Earth is you now, and you will fight for it."
I turned slowly, finding Death smiling at me.
"What do you mean, 'fight?'"