Ch. 9

Everything is dark except I can tell there is light coming from somewhere through my eyelids. I manage to blink them open to a soft, sunny, blue, cloudless sky. I smile as I lower my gaze to my surroundings.

I find myself on a small, lush, grassy knoll in a grand clearing of trees. I can hear birds singing softly in the distance, but something off to the side catches my eye.

I turn my head and suddenly lose my ability to move. I'm even afraid to breathe, because I feel that if I do, then whatever is happening will all disappear. My heart is pounding, my breath staggering. I feel my throat start to tighten and tears try to make their escape from behind my eyes. This can't be real.

There beside me lay Doyle.

He is perfect, just as the day I last saw him alive. His fine, walnut colored hair shines underneath the sunlight. A tender, magnolia-scented breeze causes the bangs of his shag haircut to be gently swept to the side following the left side part he usually kept his hair in. His smooth, lightly tanned skin glows in the warm sunlight. He has on my favorite shirt of his: a cream colored button-down, a pair of designer jeans and his brown low-cut Converse shoes. He's also got on the brown leather strapped watch that never worked but he always wore anyway. It was a family heirloom of sorts. He even has on the shark-tooth necklace that I'd given him as a silly Valentine's present for our first Valentine's Day.

I watch in increasing shock as his eyes slowly flutter open, his nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath of the sweet air that surrounds us, and his lips start to curl into that familiar, easy smile that I always adored.

With a trembling hand, I slowly extend my arm until my fingers just brush against his smooth face. His light grey-green eyes lower their sights until they finally rest on me. His smile widens as he sits himself up and takes me into his secure, firm and comforting embrace. I completely melt to fit into every niche of his body as I cling to him, quietly gasping for breath.

This is impossible…

He pulls back and looks at me with genuine concern. He reaches out and gently wipes a finger along my cheek. It is only then that I realize I am crying. "Angel," he calls soothingly. "What's wrong? You're shaking."

I can barely find my voice. My mind is going a million miles a minute wondering how this is happening, why, and for how long. Just as one thought wants to be voiced, another one jams its way in. I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths. Freaking out isn't going to get me anywhere.

Once I believe I'm a little more or less collected, and make sure my voice is a little less wavering, I begin to speak. "Doyle, I don't even know what to say. Everything I think of sounds so cliché and like it just doesn't express how I really feel at all. I've missed you…for so long it seems, so much I can't even begin to express- I just can't believe I get to see you again, touch you- There's so much I need to tell you-" I stop as my throat constricts and tears swell up behind my lids.

He just smiles lovingly and takes me in his arms once more, laying my head on his chest so that I can hear his heartbeat. I close my eyes and allow the sound to calm me. I've missed it so much. "I'm here, Angie. I told you I would never leave you, didn't I?"

I slowly raise my head up to meet his gaze and I nod. I know I must look like a mess, but I don't care. These emotions of mine have reached their spilling point. This is easily the greatest day of my life. My wishes have come true and I couldn't ask for anything more.

He brushes a small strand of hair from my face and carefully tucks it behind my ear. His voice drops to a deep, soothing whisper. "Angie, I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I only wish you knew how much you really mean to me… And even through death, you're the one I will always cherish, want, and take care of. I promise."

"I love you, too, Doyle. You don't know how hard it's been without you, keeping things together-"

"Shh…"

I close my eyes and sigh quietly knowing I shouldn't be getting so strung out. I mean, we have time don't we? Time to talk about everything?

"Angel."

Every thought buzzing through my mind immediately ceases. Oh, how I've missed they way he calls my name… I lift my gaze up to his where I close my eyes as he leans in slowly and gently presses his sweet lips against mine in the most beautiful kiss I've longed for just one more time for the longest time. I allow myself to get lost in its sweetness, its safety, its warmth and carefully wrap my arms around his neck as I feel his arms slide around my waist and hold me firmly.

I press my body against his not wanting this moment to end anytime soon, not even to take a breath.

Something changes, though. The fine hairs on my arms and neck start to stand up as goose bumps make their presence on my skin. I open my eyes to find the sky has darkened with purple and black clouds. Low thunder rumbles.

I realize I am alone.

Looking around I realize I am in the local cemetery, sitting right in front of Doyle's headstone. My heart sinks and my body starts to shake as everything begins to crash down around me. I cover my face with my hands and let the sobs wrack my body as they flow freely with each gasp of breath I take.

Then I feel my arm being grabbed. I gasp and look to see a boney, rotting arm protruding from Doyle's grave and the hand is wrapped tightly around my wrist. I scream as I spot the watch Doyle always wore.

I look around frantically and start scrambling trying to get away, continuing to scream at the top of my lungs. Something catches my eye for the briefest moment in the field below the hill. A person that looks vaguely familiar. It is too far to tell.

I continue in my effort to yank free, screaming more when I see that I'm pulling up a boney, sunken face. "Angie," a hollow voice calls. "I'll never leave you."

I bolt from my bed screaming and into a corner panting, chest heaving. Max raises his head looking at me sadly realizing something that I am beginning to realize too. I'm having the nightmares again. I look at my clock. It is 3:14 A.M.

I can't move. I am paralyzed with fear. I can't go back to sleep either. I won't. It can't be done. It is too early to start to make breakfast, so I do the only thing I can do. I curl up on my side in the corner and start to cry holding nothing back.

"Angel."

I stir a little, not fully out of the darkness of sleep. I feel a hand on my arm and it all comes back to me, the dream. I suddenly punch out and jerk away screaming as I open my eyes just as I start to crawl away from whatever it is that has touched me. It suddenly jumps out at me and grabs me by the waist and starts to drag me to it. I scream louder and start to flail.

"Angie!"

What has grabbed me jerks me to face it, but I clamp my eyes shut not wanting to see it, the skull, the dirt, the empty spaces… "Look at me! Angie, it's me! Tom!"

I freeze. I let five loud heartbeats go by until I slowly open my eyes. Sure enough, it is Tom that is holding me in his grasp. I practically throw myself at him and start to break down. I feel his hand gently rub my back as he holds me tight with his other arm. "Angel, what's wrong? I came in to check on you and you were curled up in the corner asleep. I put you back in bed. Then, all I tried to do was wake you to get some breakfast and you swing at me? I'm lost as to what's happening here."

I just lay my head on his chest. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"It's fine. I just want to know what's wrong. I want to help."

I swallow hard feeling the tightness in my throat from the crying. I don't want to go back to that nightmare. I don't want to see what happened again. I don't want to go back to the pain, and not just the fact I had been grabbed by something dead, but it had been Doyle, the only boy I truly ever loved and always will. It was his hand, arm, that sunken face and rotting flesh…

This is all too much. I suddenly push Tom to the side and run to the bathroom. I was going to be sick. I am getting sick. I close my eyes as I feel my stomach give way to the nausea. I cough and gag at the foul taste, which only makes me sick even more.

Tom comes in hesitantly, carefully pulls my hair back and holds it. I sit there for a while making sure the worst has passed, not daring to take a breath through my nose or open my eyes knowing it will start all over again. Tom helps me up and flushes the commode. He lets the lid down and sits me on top of it as he fixes me a glass of water from the sink and hands it to me.

I swish the water around in my mouth and spit it out into the sink a few times before brushing my teeth. He leads me back to my room and I curl up on the bed where silent tears roll down my cheeks and onto my pillow.

Tom stands before the bed looking down at me for a while until I finally can't bear it anymore and turn onto my other side. I hear him sigh quietly and take a seat in the cushy chair that is in the corner of my room. I can hear him punch numbers on his phone. I know he isn't calling 911 and for that I am happy.

I guess I have dozed off because the next thing I know is I'm waking up to being poked in the back with something not so pleasant. I quickly reach around and grab what feels like a stick from outside. I jerk it as hard as I can and suddenly feel a body on top of me. I groan under the sudden weight. "Uh, she's not a zombie," I hear Sean say and he quickly gets off of me as I try to grab him.

I roll onto my back and prop myself on my elbows. I groan as I see the entire crew in my room. Maybe it would have been better if Tom had called 911 and had me put in an asylum. I fall back flat on the mattress. "Did you really have to do this?" I whine. "I mean, just because we're a crew and stick together doesn't mean we have to share the same saliva, right?"

There is a moment of silence as I turn this over in my mind.

"Okay, bad example, we don't have to all go to the bathroom at the exact same time, do we?"

"Ew!" Lucy cries. "Tom said you were messed, Angie, but that's a little more than I expected."

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"What happened last night, Angie?" Tom questions softly.

I roll my head to look at him. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. "I had a dream…about Doyle," I whisper.

Everyone is silent. They fidget and look at each other unsure of what to do.

"It wasn't really a dream either," I continue though not knowing why. "I mean, it was at first, but then it changed into a nightmare. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced."

I can feel my throat start to close up again. Lucy and Tom come over and sit on either side of me on the bed. Greg, Sean, and Jimmy all stand there close, but I can tell that Greg and Sean aren't quite sure of what to do. Tom gently tugs me over so that I am leaning against him and Lucy leans on me with an arm around me. For the longest time, no one says anything.