Crash! The car spun out and crashed into a light post. The flickering light and sparks decorated my vision with dim hues of yellow and blue. I ran over to the car and saw my mother’s body riven apart by the car’s impact. She turned to look at me with dead glazed eyes and said, “This is your fault.”
I bolted upright in my bed, my heart pounding, my face wet with tears. Movement beside me drew my eyes to her. An angel lying next to me. “What’s wrong, Alex?” Her hand searching for me across the bed from her. Finding nothing, she opened her eyes and looked up at me, “Did you have another nightmare?” She scooted under the covers to sit up beside me, holding the blankets close to her naked chest. It was a cute thing to do considering all the dirty things we’d done only hours before.
“Yeah.” I said with a shake of my head. My mother had died over a year ago, and I was still waking to the same nightmare. I rarely dreamt of anything I didn’t conjure myself — a perk of being a dream walker, but this followed my Pretty Boy’s flight every night. The dark blur leaving in his wake my personal hell.
“Forgive yourself.” Kate whispered in my ear as she put her arms around my shoulder, pulling me close. “It’s not your fault, she died, you weren’t even there.”
“That’s what bothers me most. I should have been in that car. I should have been driving.”
“Alex…” Kate said with exasperation. We’d gone through this every night for the past week. The same thing.
“What does the boy in your dreams say?” Kate asked.
“I haven’t told him I feel guilty.” I lied. I told him everything. He never remembered our conversations, it was safe. And the look from Kate’s sweet face told me she knew it was a lie. “He says nothing, he just listens.”
Kate smirked, “And stares at your mouth, and you go off and do what the two of you always do.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t regret telling her of the Pretty Boy in my dreams. She was the only other person I had ever told of his existence. She thought he was just a figment of my subconscious — a method of self reassurance and healing. He was all that, but he was real. A boy living somewhere who, if I knew how to find him, I would. At least before I met Kate, I would have.
“I should never have told you that.” I smiled at Kate.
“Is he hot?”
“I don’t want to talk about the crush I have on a guy in my dreams.” He didn’t always come as himself. He mostly came as a little boy I had to talk into showing his age. He had his own nightmares and personal hell. The self doubt that raged through his dreams was deafening on a good day. Sometimes, though, I knew he came as himself. He colored his hair with a wave of his hand and drew eyeliner so thick his long lush lashes got lost in them. It was his mask, and it only made him more beautiful to me. If only…
I didn’t know how to finish that thought. If only what? He was real. He was. If only he was here? But he’s not, and he would never tell me where he was. Or his name. No matter how hard I dug, I couldn’t get that information. And he didn’t remember me from night to night — though we had been dreaming together since I was seven. He drew me to him every night. A tingle in my head when he slept. No matter where I was, or what time, I knew when he slept. Knew he was waiting for me. And if I didn’t show, the only thing he’d have was that black blur to visit him, and that darkness was never a good thing. It gave me shivers when it passed by me. Cold run though my veins as it touched me to get to him. It was worse than my nightmares. And it came every night and whisked him away.
Kate snickered and pulled me down into her arms. I rested my head on her bosom. “From the look on your face, my dearest Alex, he’s gorgeous.”
I sighed, “He is, but he’s not here.” I looked up at her, “You are. You are what matters…” I pressed a kiss to her lips, and I pushed away everything else. I had a beautiful woman in front of me.