Disclaimer:Don't own anybody and of course this never happend, just a work of fiction

Dreams Of The Insane

I see a door.

Actually, I see a lot of doors. There are doors all around me, each depicting a different design.

I know I'm dreaming.

I know I'm dreaming because I've had this dream before. This very exact dream. Every time, I see something different in here, but it's the same dream none the less.

This is his dream. This scenario, after all, was from one of his favorite movies. I always wondered why he was so fascinated with it, but now, being here, I can see why. What lies before me are the doors of my life, my memories, and my experiences. Each of which, I spent with him.

I stare at the door in front of me. There is a picture frame, along with a doorknob embedded in its ornate brass outline. I know where this door goes. I went through it the first time I ever had this dream. The frame hadn't caught my attention right away, but when the picture within began to move…it was then that I stopped. The figures within the picture frame door began to animate and recreate my memories. Right there is when I opened the door and was pulled deep into my past.

The world behind that particular door was my life when my mother was still alive. We were all so happy then. I stayed inside that world until my mother's passing, and when she died is when I was shot back into reality, awaking to the shrill ring of my phone.

Damn wake up call.

When I had the dream again, I wanted so badly to return to that place. I wanted to go back through the picture frame door and live in my mother's happiness again. But, even though it is just a dream, I knew I might not have that much time here, so I chose another door.

I worked my way through every door within this fantasy, reliving my past, seeing all my triumphs and mistakes along the way. Until now…

I am at the last door.

And to be perfectly honest…what's behind this door terrifies me. I know what is behind this door without ever having been inside.

I lived it.

The door is a bouquet of roses.

(He always loved roses.)

The flowers themselves are beautiful, but what scares me the most is the blood that trickles from each and every thorn. I know what that blood symbolizes, and no, it does not symbolize itself. What lies behind this door has nothing to do with blood or death. It has nothing to do with gore or actual bloodshed.

This blood is on my hands and my conscious. It's about hurt. His gorgeous roses…bloody and destroyed by me.

I push away my thoughts and fears, and step up to the door. I turn the knob and slowly slip away as I am drawn back into my own mind.

He sat alone, staring up at the cloudy sky.

"It's gonna rain," a voice sounded from behind him.

He didn't even move or acknowledge the man speaking. He just continued staring up at the heavens.

"I brought you something," the other man said, walking slowly towards the man who was still had his eyes transfixed on the sky.

"Here," he said, bending down and handing the man a single red rose.

"Oh, thank you," he said smelling the light scent from the flower, "you know I love roses," he spoke, finally looking away from above.

"Hmm, let's see…" he continued, "He loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…he loves me not," he went on, picking each petal off as he so loved to do.

Picking the final petal off he glanced at the other man.

"Well, what do ya know? He loves me," he finished, kissing the other man on the lips sweetly.

"Love you," came the reply after they broke from each other.

"Love you too Matt,"

"Hey, who are they from?" A voice asked of the man behind him.

"Who are what from…oh," the other man questioned as he stepped over the threshold of the door.

"Looks like you have a secret admirer," he replied as he stepped past the table and sat down in one of the chairs.

"I know who they're from Shane," the man said, pulling a rose from the bouquet that sat on the table.

"Oh really? Who?" Shane asked, smiling at the grin on the other man's face.

"A friend…" he trailed off as he began pulling the petals off of the ruby colored flower.

Walking into his the adjoining room, he whispered silently to himself,

"He loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…"

"We can't do this! We're gonna get caught!"

"No, we're not Matt. Just be quiet," came the reply from somewhere within the small, dark room.

"Where the hell are you?" Matt whispered as he felt around in the darkness.

"Right here," he answered, sliding his arms around Matt's neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

After the quick feeling of shock faded, Matt moved his hands to the other man's hips, drawing him nearer. He kissed the other man back harder as he was pushed backwards into the wall of the tiny room with a thud.

They suddenly pulled apart and ducked behind the nearest thing when the door opened, and the light in the hallway illuminated the darkness.

"Hello?" a voice sounded from the doorway.

"Dude, what are you doing?" another voice questioned from further away.

"Nothing man, I just thought I heard something moving in here,"

"Oh, well c'mon, we're gonna be late. I still have shit to do before my match,"

"Okay. Hey do you know if…" the voice trailed off as the door was shut and the room was once again submerged in shadows.

The sounds of heavy breathing and simultaneous sighs of relief echoed through the room. The two men inside looked at each other even though they couldn't see.

"I fuckin' told you we were going to get caught! Why don't you ever listen to me!" Matt whispered harshly.

There came no reply from the other man, but before Matt could say another word, a small giggle sounded from the other side of the room. That tiny giggle turned into more giggling, which turned into a full fledged laugh, which then turned into what could only be described as borderline hysterics.

Matt stared in disbelief at his young lover.

"Only you would think that was funny," Matt sighed and shook his head.

"Okay…okay…but you have to ad..admit…" he choked out, breaking into hysterical laughter once more.

Matt sighed again.

"Only you Jeff…only you,"

"Yea, but that's why ya love me," Jeff replied after calming his amusement. He threw his arm over Matt's shoulder, and after checking to make sure everything was clear, they left the small office.

"Why are you doing this!"

"You know why,"

"No, I don't understand. How could…I just wanted…I love you Matt," came a small whisper, contrasting to the shrill scream that echoed through the house just seconds before.

"I know. But we can't keep doing this…it isn't right," replied the calm, unshaken voice.

"What's not right!" He was back to his screaming.

"You know better than this. Eventually we're gonna get caught. We can't risk it…neither of us are at fault, it…it just needs to end," again came the collected tone.

"I…I…why…what are…oh God," he croaked out before breaking into hysterical sobs. He fell down against the wall and crumpled slowly to the floor as he let his tears overtake him.

The other man stood there, staring at the other man who was beyond reason now. Unable to take his lover's anguished bawling anymore, he walked slowly towards him. He slowly lowered himself and set the bouquet of roses he held, down next to the crying man.

"I'm sorry Jeff," he whispered as he stood up and walked out the door.

Suddenly the man's sobs ceased and he stared at the roses beside him. He picked a flower from the bunch and began to pluck each petal off.

"He loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…he loves me not…"

He continued walking as far from the house as possible, and with the thoughts that plagued his mind, he soon realized he was home.

He wasn't sure how he had managed it, but he entered his house anyway and headed up the stairs to his room. When he reached his room he removed his shoes and sat down on the bed. Slowly, he lowered himself onto his bed and as soon as his head was upon his pillow…

Beep Beep Beep

I shoot up out of bed and look at the offensive object that so suddenly jerked me out of my dream.

Damn alarm clock.

I note the time as I shut the alarm off and sit up, sliding to the edge of the bed. Getting up slowly, I stretch tiredly and then proceed about the room. I walk around and gather clothes from my dresser and prepare to get ready for the day.

I took a quick shower, quicker than usual, and got dressed. I didn't even bother to grab something to eat on my way out. I just want to get where I need to be right now.

While I drive, I think about the dream. I knew eventually I would have to face that door and what was within. I don't know if I can face him today after reliving what happened.

And that's where I'm going. To see him.

I try to go and visit him as often as I can, but it still doesn't seem like enough. I pull into the road that will take me to him and I drive up slowly to the place, looking for somewhere to park.

I feel like I'm still in that unconscious state I was in the dream. I don't know how I ended up in front of his door, but I'm there, staring at it.

This door reminds me of the rose door I saw in my dream. I know what lies behind this door, but I don't want to face it. It scares me to death.

Instead of going in, I stare through the window in the door.

The sight takes me by surprise and I jump back.

He's there. He's sitting there within the confines of his straight jacket, the floor around him covered in a red sea of rose petals.

I back away slowly, tears brimming my eyes as I listen to his voice through the door.

"He loves me…he love me not…he loves me…he loves me not…"