Spike's eyes fluttered open and he's in an open field, under the beaming blue sky. Surrounded by soaring dandelion pappus and long fine fescue, cradled in a gusting wind. The sky was clear, dabbled in white fluffy clouds that held no shape. The sun shone high and pecked his tan skin. He blinked at the open terrain and looked about for some sort of direction. What the hell? A tap at Spike's shoulder and a small giggle alerted him to a small girl, appeared not much older than 15. She grinned widely and seesawed herself against her heels. Her black wild hair flowed down her shoulders as she hung her head aside, peering at him. Edie? He couldn't mistaken her, she was identical to the picture in Edie's rap sheet. Her rosey cheeks were plump and sunkissed.
"Come on!" Edie cheered as she held out her hand toward him, egging him to follow her. Her eyes shone, reflecting the sun's honey glow. Spike opened his mouth to speak and clutched his throat at finding his voice escaped from him. His hand, involuntarily, eased its way to grip hers. But as their fingers brushed against each other, Spike studied his abnormally thin hand. He noted the fact that the palm of his hand was smooth rather than callus, how scrawny and weak his fingers seemed to be. His eyes widened at the realization. Are these even my hands? He held out a hand void of scars, dirt and years of worn. He held out a bare, youthful hand. His arm remained in the air as he canvassed his own clothing. Spike's blue suit was gone and in its place, he wore a ridiculous t-shirt and some sort of gym shorts. Instead of black boots, his feet were equipped with sneakers. He was a kid again. Memories flood into his head as he recalls the oversized t-shirt his grandmother "found" him. He was seven and when she asked, he told her his favorite animal was a wolf. She came home, a few days later, with a large shirt with wolves howling at the moon printed on the front of it. Spike remembered the shirt draped over his small, childish frame like a dress, even so, he was still giddy. It was one of the few gifts she had scraped together before dying a year later. And here he was, wearing it once more, at what he assumed his body to be age 16.
"Are you coming or not?" Spike's attention shot back to Edie and her inviting hand. He rested his hands atop of hers and in response, she gripped his fingers, pulling him along with her as she raced through the open field. Edie would peek behind her, ever so often, to smile, warmly, at Spike. Everytime she'd laugh, her eyes twinkled. Her long dark hair whipping back and forth in the trailing wind. He wanted to ask her where they were and where they were running to but, once again, he found himself at a loss for words. As two teenagers, the two sprinted into a surrounding forest. Rays of light beamed through the cracks of the canopy and brightened the trenches of the forest floor. Edie slowed her pace as the pair neared a massive angel oak tree, overgrown in moss and wildlife. It was isolated amongst the vast amount of trees in the unknown forest. Spike gawked the monstrous tree that stood, at least, over 65 feet above them. Its branches spread out like the wingspan of an angel. Edie turned to Spike, as he was still engrossed in the tree, and took his other hand, till she held both his hands in hers. His vision shifted from the tree to the petite girl in front of him. Even as kids, he, easily, stood a head taller than her.
"Edie." Her name seeped through his parted lips. Edie slid her hand up to caress his soft features. Her fingers tangled themselves in his unruly hair. Then, in an instant, her eyes shot open and pushed Spike with all her might. As he tumbled to the ground, the sound of a gunshot pierced the air of the enchanted forest. Spike scurried to all fours, watching Edie's body collapse before him. Spike crawled over to her sprawled limbs and searched her body for a wound. He found it in her chest, blood soaking her shirt. Her face lost its color of hues of pink. Her hair encircled her head, reminding Spike of the gold ring above an angel's head.
Edie's chest heaved as she struggled to breathe. She gave out a throaty cough, coughing up blood onto her milky skin. Spike touched her cheek and recoiled at the sting of her cold skin. He scoured the forest for any signs of the shooter but saw no one. The sun hid itself behind dark clouds, casting a large shadow that spread across the forest. Water slid down Spike's face and his eyes shifted, frantically. He looked to the clouds and felt drops of rain cascade down his forehead and eyelids.
"Spike." Edie whimpered with a ragged breath. She held out her hand to reach him, once more, but went limp after minutes. Spike scooted himself away from Edie's body and his heart raced, causing him to breathe irregularly. Her flowing hair was cut short to bob with light blue at the ends. A discoloration at her thigh caused him to hold his breath. A tattoo. The Edie he was familiar with laid broken on the floor. The annoying, dirt mouthed, 20ish year old Edie was bleeding out on the floor before him.
Spike shot up from bed and grunted aloud. He rested his head against his forearms and felt the sweat from his drenched hair run down the back of his neck. His chest expanded and shrank in fast pace while a loud ringing in his ears shook him. A banging at his door alarmed him and he dragged himself to his door. Spike flinched at seeing the person on the other side of the door.
"Spike, are you okay?!" Edie demanded, distressed by the ever continuing noises ascending from his room. Spike's eyes eased and he slouched against his bed, avoiding Edie's worry stricken gaze.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"It sure doesn't sound that way. Did you have some sort of nightmare?"
"It was just a dream." He undermines the nightmare, casually and carelessly. But, Edie doesn't buy it.
"Yeah sure, that's why you're sweating like it's 100 degrees in here." She picked at Spike's soaked hair and in return, he shooed away her touch.
"I said I'm fine, didn't I?" He laced his fingers behind his head and placed his head on his pillow, closing his eyes. Edie's nostrils flared and she attempted to bite her tongue, but to no avail. She stole away the pillow from underneath Spike's head, dropping his head with a thonk onto his bed. Edie, fuming, whacked Spike's face against the pillow causing him to growl and rub at his nose.
"What is your problem!? Here I am, trying to be a concerned friend and you just scoff at my face."
"You have no reason to be even concerned in the first place," Spike rested himself against his elbows and grimaced at the woman. "I already told you, bitch, I'm fine."
"When are you gonna pull your head out of your ass?" Edie grumbled behind her clenched teeth. "When are you gonna let me just help you?"
"Help me? Who said I need help? And why would you want help me?" He, nonchalantly, questioned.
"Because that's what friends do. They help each other. They believe in each other." Edie threw her hands to her hips and jutted her thumb to her chest. Spike snickered at her and returned his pillow to its place underneath him.
"Who says we're even friends in the first place?" He hissed as he turned his back to her and rested on his side. Spike closed his eyes and ignored her presence as if he were going back to sleep. His eyelids clenched tightly as his bed shook slightly. Edie perched herself to the foot of Spike's bed and sighed. She was waving the white flag on this one. There was no point in arguing any further. What good would it do anyways? Waste breath and cause even more headaches, if you asked Edie. She dawdled with her thumbs and settled into silence. He's never gonna listen. As if he wants to. Edie wondered what he dreamt of that got him so spooked. How do I expect him to talk to me and be honest with me, if I'm not even honest with him? Her insides churned. She wished the truth just poured from her heart but that doesn't happen because she doesn't let it.
"You're right, Spike. I'm sorry I intruded." Edie whispered into the darkness of his quarters, as she sits up and lets herself out.
