Another Nightmare
By Rebecca Joy

Author's Note: This is one of my first stories. It's based on a real nightmare I had. Feedback is GREATLY appreciated and very much wanted. Enjoy, if you can. I don't mean to bring anyone down, lol.
And I know that Logan isn't correctly portrayed, because let's face it, if he were put in this type of situtation, he'd kick some ass. But for fiction purposes... : )


"Logan?" I asked; my voice just above a whisper. I gently shook his bare arm that wrapped around me and bit my bottom lip in fear.

"Logan?" I repeated hoarsely.

He opened his eyes just slightly, looking comfortable where he lay.

"Sorry," I said.

He hugged me tighter and spoke softly.

"You okay?"

I hesitated for a moment then shook my head.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I looked back to the ceiling and scoffed nervously. I was angry at myself for acting like such a frightened child. I swallowed hard and he watched me.

"Is it what I think it is?"

I looked to him again and with out saying a word, he knew and pulled me close.

"Come here," he grunted, rising his head into his palm.

For the past few weeks, I had the same haunting nightmare over and over and it scared the Hell out of me. I didn't know what it meant, and it was probably just like any ordinary nightmare, but I was scared. I told Logan about it and he listened. He listened to every word I had to say. He paid close attention to my worries, but he assured me that the dream was nothing. In any matter, he would keep me safe, always, and I was in awe to hear him say it.


Logan and I are sitting in our car in front of a local video shop nearby. It's one of my favorite places to go. When I hear sirens blaring in the background of my neighborhood, I look to the streets as four or five police cars speed by.

In minutes passing, I am startled to I see a tall, furious, outraged man opening car doors down the aisle of the parking lot and pushing people out. He's holding a large gun in his hands as he makes his way towards our car. Logan doesn't notice, but I am too scared to move or say anything. I don't want to hear myself say it, because I don't believe what's happening.

I want to hide, but I know there is no use as the man glances at us from the next car. He comes closer and pulls Logan out from the driver's seat. Another man, about 6' tall pulls me from the passenger door and pushes me aside.

The first man, with the gun, tells everyone to line up at the windows of the shop. Logan and I manage to get as far away from the windows as possible, standing next to the man. He doesn't seem to care or even notice that we're there as he points the gun at the rest of the crowd. Logan looks over at me as tears stream down my face. I want to get away, but I know if I try to run, I'll get killed either way. We were trapped.

Logan's hurt; his face filled with anger and great sadness that chokes on a sob deep down in his throat. He looks like he might cry, but he doesn't. He looks back at our supposed ending and exhales through clenched teeth and a closed mouth. He takes my hand in his and squeezes it tight.

The man yells at us to stay and put our hands over our head. We obediently comply and Logan slips out of my hand slowly.

Memories and thoughts speed quickly through my mind. God, why? Why? I never wanted to know when or how I was going to die. How does one prepare for something like this? My heart, right then, shattered and broke down. I glanced at Logan out of the corner of my eye. I screamed and wept inside. I cried for just another day, another hour, another few minutes of life and time spent with him. At that moment, all I could think about was him. Why did he have to be here? Why did he want to come? Why did I have to say 'yes'?

But the man kept yelling at us. He told us to repeat something, which was never too clear in the dream, even after I woke up. We did as he said. I watched him pick up the gun and select his first prey. He peeked at his target and I shut my eyes, just as he pulled the trigger. I heard the cries and screams from the rest of the hostages, but remained silent through my tears. I opened my eyes, hoping to see the killer dead or cuffed by some miracle, a police officer that would rescue us from this sick, damned happening. But there he stood, aiming at the next victim, another young woman, about the same age as myself, who stood shaking next to a man that lay in a pool of his own blood on the cemented sidewalk. One shot to the head and this is how we were all going to just go away.

Click. BANG. The woman repeated her prayers with an unsteady voice, but it was too late.
Click. BANG. A child had no more life to fulfill.
Click. BANG.
Click. BANG.
Click. BANG.

I opened my eyes and choked on my breath. The man looked at my wet face and laughed as he pushed Logan toward the wall.

Click.

I screamed, besieged. I couldn't help myself as I ran forward, thinking I could protect him from any bullet the man was willing to shoot. I would take them all.

BANG.
BANG.

I blacked out and came to my senses. That's when I awoke and found myself crying, gleaming with sweat. Every night, I found myself held by Logan, but I always felt alone. Everything I felt was so real that I didn't think anyone could understand.


Logan and I lay on the mattress. He was no longer tired at my 3 AM wake up call. He ran his fingers through my long auburn hair, playing with it as I turned away from him. I tried to fall back asleep, but all I could think about was him.

"Logan?" I asked calmly. Chills ran over my body as he gently scrunched my hair in his fist, releasing some of the tension that filled my mind.

"Mmm?"

I paused, searching for words that wouldn't sound so crazy.

"I don't want to lose you."

He inhaled and massaged my shoulder, kissing the crook of my neck.

"You're not going to lose me." he said.

I turned over and he looked into my eyes with great depth. I had to give in with a smile, admiring the fact that he hadn't been irritated with any of this. I knew I was practically bringing him down with me and I didn't want to do that. I curled my fingers together.

"Promise," I told him.

He looked down at my hand and smiled. He curled his pinky around mine and let it sit there for a second before he pulled my hand across his neck with his; drawing me in to his lips.

"I promise," he said.