It had been twenty years to the day that Sam and Diane had parted ways for good. She was still alive and well because her name was constantly in the papers for her work in the aesthetic pursuits like playwriting and such. He didn't dare tell anyone that he saved every newspaper article and/or picture and put them in a scrapbook. It was a best kept secret from those he was closest to. If only she knew how proud he was of her.

Sam had called it an early night and had turned of the tv. Diane was still on his mind as he drifted off into subconcious. It wasn't long before the darkness that surrounded his vision had suddenly turned to light as he felt his eyes flutter open. He had his arm around a woman who he didn't recognize. This was strange; he didn't have a woman spend the night. How they hell did she get in here? She was a rather pudgy woman with long, grayish blonde hair. Sam moved in a little closer and tickled the woman's neck to get her to wake up.

"What's your name, Sweetheart?"

"Ha, ha, good one, Sam."

Sam jumped back on his side of the bed. This graying, plus size woman was Diane Chambers! What has happened to her? It has been a while since he had a picture to put in his scrapbook but he didn't see that coming. She finally rolled over to face him and he realized how much she hasn't changed. Disregarding her puffy face, she still had the same sky blue eyes and the same full lips whose smile could light up her world. His heart welled up with love for this older version of his woman. He envelopes her in a hug that makes her melt into him. Her chest that was rubbed up against his own began to feel hotter and hotter to the point where he felt like she was burning him somehow. He looked down to see smoke escape from her cleavage. In a panic, he separates her breasts to find her pumping heart on fire. He takes a closer look and sees a house, their house, on fire that is taking place in the middle of her heart.

Then he woke up. He shot out from his spot on the bed to the other where Diane would be had he still been asleep. He put his hand to his chest and felt his heart beat a million miles per minute. Hey, man, he thinks to himself, it was just a dream. Yeah, it was all just a dream. He got out the remote from under the pillow and flipped the tv back on. By this time they were running the elven o'clock news. Maybe not the most comforting thing to watch but he figures he'll fall back to sleep so what the hell, right?

"...And breaking news at this time, an abandoned house has been burnt down to the ground tonight..."

The news anchor kept going on and on but Sam sat there glued to the screen in horror. It was their house. The house that was supposed to be theirs to grow old together in. Another reporter took the viewer to the scene of the fire and what was once a fine house was now a burnt, crumpled up piece of shit.

He buried his face in his hands and wept. Wept for the fact that another piece of history with Diane was gone. He still remember that family's last goddamned Christmas party; he remembered the quiet nights he and Diane shared before their ill-fated wedding; he still remembered the nights after she left when he would go be in that house by himself and feel her ghost roaming around the house with him.

"Let it go, Sam."

Diane had reappeared looking the same as she'd had before. She had a calm, peaceful look on her face as she said those words. How the hell could she manage to be this way?

"Fuck you, Diane! You don't know how much that house meant to me!"

With a smile on her face, Diane vanished without a trace. He was horrified and begged her to come back. It did no good and he was up again just in time to welcome the next afternoon. He had no idea how he slept that long but man he did not feel rested. He got out of bed, threw on his bathrobe and got his Sunday morning paper that was laid out by his apartment door. The front page proved that he didn't dream of the news story last night. He sighed at the headline and went back to his kitchen table to finish the rest. He got to the arts and culture section and almost spit out the coffee he was sipping. There was Diane Chambers looking exactly like she did in his dream. He read further along and could have died when he saw what her new play was called.

The House That Wrecked Me.