Don't Sleep

Chapter 2

Sonny sat on the sofa going though the boxes of Brenda's things all night, reliving all the memories that just her smell could bring. He looked over at the grandfather clock and saw that it was already 5 in the morning, he was supposed to be meeting Hannah for breakfast at 8. He knew he should stop going through her things and go up to bed, but he couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't stand the thought of being in that bed alone. At least down here he was with her, her memory, her things. All slept entitled him to was memories of her death. Well, not actually her death, but various deaths. Her being shot and dying in his arms, her blowing up as he watched and then there was him turning the wheel and not her mother. God she's looks at him in horror as she realized what he'd done. And sometimes he was the one with the gun thinking he was shooting Deke or Rivera and then he sees her lying on the floor. No staying down here was definitely the right choice. Maybe if he exhausts himself he won't dream or maybe god-willing he would actually dream of her not dying for once.

Two hours later Sonny is ready to pass out, he looks over at the grandfather clock once again and notices the time. He was definitely going to miss his date with Hannah. He grabs his cell phone from the table and dials her number. Her machine picks up

"Hi, this is Hannah. I'm not in right now so leave your name and number after the beep."

S: Hey Hannah, it's Sonny I've been up all night doing work so I'm afraid I won't be able to make it to breakfast this morning. I'll give you a call later tonight. Bye

God she had a totally uncreative message, he thought of Brenda's old messages they were always perky and creative and if they were actually getting along they sometimes be directly related at him. He leans his head back on the couch and falls asleep.

Sonny feels himself being shaken awake; he opens his eyes and only sees dark brown hair. Hannah, he thought she must be pissed that I missed out date. "Hey, no need for all the violence" he cries out. Suddenly the hair moves from in front of his face, it's Brenda. She's dressed in a pair of tight black pants and a red top; her hair is loose hanging around her shoulders. "Brenda?" he says in astonishment

B: Who else would it be? We're gonna be late, will you get up.

S: Huh late for what?

B: Late for what? I can't believe you, Sonny. We're meeting your father for lunch, remember, you made the date.

S: Oh yea

B: So get up and go change your shirt it's all wrinkly now.

S (smiles): You think it's wrinkly now, just wait till you see it when your picking it off the floor later tonight.

B: Yea like I'd clean

Sonny pulls her close and breathes in her hair and takes in her scent.

B: Your dad's gonna be pissed

S: He'll understand that I wanna be with the woman I love

B: Sonny...

S: No I love you, never forget that

B(smiles): I won't, I can't

~message to the readers~ever have a dream that you keep telling yourself that it's not real and that you're gonna wake up? But then somehow you forget and when you wake up you can't believe that it was dream. That's what this is, imagine the heartache of him realizing she's gone and it was only a dream. It feels like a second death, because even if it was only for a few minutes she was alive and in his arms.

Sonny wakes up and looks around. "Brenda must be upstairs" he thinks to himself. "Brenda" he yells out, when she doesn't respond he becomes frantic as the truth about what is reality invades his mind. "No, she isn't gone. I'm gonna go upstairs and find her getting ready for dinner, we're going to Luke's." He runs up to their room and she isn't there, he goes to the bathroom, the guestrooms. Suddenly he finally let's himself accept that it wasn't real and he leans up against a wall. He collapses against it and starts to cry. He's never getting her back, she's never gonna be in his arms again, he's only gonna smell her when he's near her things and soon even that'll fade. He feels as raw as the day Alberto came to tell him of her death.

A: Senor Corinthos, I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to be telling you this.

S: Telling me what (even though deep down he already knows)

A: Senorita Barret was killed

S: How? (How does one respond to news like that, news that their life is over, even though they know that the other person is lying and that it is all one big joke)

A: Her car went off a cliff, they've given up the search.

S: Leave

A: Sir?

S: Just leave