These Dreams…

By: Seuss Fan

(Note: I do not own Repo! or any of its characters. So, Terrance Zdunich and Darren Smith please do not sue me! Also, anything written in italics indicates singing)

Chapter 2: This must be my aching hour…

A year had passed since Sasha had the dream about Graverobber. Every day she thought about the way he touched her skin and made her feel like heaven really did exist. She prayed that they would be reunited but her prayers were never answered.

"It was the best dream I have ever had!"

"Sasha, I know. But you have to let this go. It was a dream, okay. Just a dream and nothing more."

"Jim, how many times have you go on and on about a story idea or some hot girl you had a one night stand with?"

"But I generally stop after a few days. You've been going on for an entire year!"

"But, Jim…"

" No 'buts', Sasha. Call me when you're finally over this."

That night Sasha lay in her bead, tossing and turning. She couldn't get Jim's words out of her head. She knew she was being ridiculous. Her dream about Graverobber was just a fantasy. There was no reason why she should still be thinking about it. However, in the back of her mind she knew that there was something different about that dream. Not only was the subject matter strange the colors and feelings were stronger than in any of the dreams she had before. Besides, most of her dreams she would forget just a few hours after waking up. But for whatever reason she still remembered every detail of her Graverobber dream. As she pondered over this fact Sasha closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When Sasha opened her eyes she felt a sense of déjà vu wash over her.

"This place looks vaguely familiar." she remarked as she examined the pitch-black sky and dark, dilapidated buildings.

"I'm back!"

Sasha immediately began to search for Graverobber. If this were the same world as last time Graverobber would be waiting in a dark alleyway with a long line of scalpel sluts trailing behind. As she moved through the streets, Sasha was hit with a new name.

"My name is Bridget," she thought.

As Bridget continued to move through the streets she became familiar with her new identity. Her family was some of the few people able to keep the repo man at bay. Because of their vast wealth they were able to provide Bridget with an impeccable education. Upon graduating from college Bridget received an invitation to be the personal assistant of the opera singer Blind Mag. As she remembered this information Bridget changed course and headed in the direction of Geneco's headquarters.

"I'm Bridget Smithson", she said to the receptionist at the front desk, "I'm here to see Blind Mag. I'm her new assistant."

Even though the receptionist was wearing dark sunglasses Bridget could tell that she was giving her a blank stare.

"Ah, yes. Well Bridget take the elevator to the fortieth floor. Blind Mag is waiting for you."

"Thank you." Bridget said as she walked away from the receptionist.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a bleak room highlighted with red lights. In the center was located a large bed with black satin sheets that had red lace trim. Off to the right was a desk and vanity mirror upon which were located roses and pictures sent in by fans.

"Miss Mag?" Bridget called out.

"Behind you." Mag replied.

"Oh, Miss Mag I didn't see you there."

"That's quite alright. Please don't be a stranger; come in and sit down.

Bridget walked into the room and quickly discovered a white whicker chair located next to the vanity.

" So, what do you need done first?"

"I'm glad to see that you're willing to get to work but first let me get to know you a little better. Oh, you have beautiful green eyes."

Bridget looked into the mirror and examined her eyes for herself.

"My eyes were brown," the Sasha within her echoed.

" Thank you, Miss Mag."

"Please, call me Blind Mag."

"Ok. Blind Mag, what do you want to know about me?"

" Just basic information."

"Well, I was born in London. I moved here when I was three. My parents and siblings have supported me throughout my entire life ensuring that I've had the best opportunities."

" Sounds lovely. Now dear, will you do me a favor and read off my schedule."

" Sure. First, you have to film a commercial for next week's Genetic Opera. Next, you have to fix the voiceover for your last Geneco commercial. Then, you have an appearance on Organ News Now. And, finally, you have a tech rehearsal for your final performance next week.

Mag laughed at her hectic schedule.

"A diva's work is never done."

That first day Bridget watched Mag very closely. She knew that Mag was retiring but her actions didn't match her situation. She treated every activity like it was the first time she was doing it. Mag was humble, courteous, and treated her colleagues with the utmost respect.

When they returned to Mag's dressing room, Bridget quickly began gathering her things.

"Before I leave, do you need anything else, Mag?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Mag responded as she sat quietly stroking a picture located on her mirror.

"Who's that?"

" An old friend."

"What's her name?"

"Her name was Marni. She died 17 years ago."

"I'm sorry. I bet you miss her a great deal."

"Yes, but I'll always have a piece of her with me…"

"Incoming message from Rotti Largo. Incoming message…" Mag's watch repeated.

" I have to take this. You are dismissed. See you tomorrow."

"Bye." Bridget said as Mag slammed the door in her face.

Over the course of the week Bridget began to see through Mag's façade. Mag was not being kind to her peers on purpose. She was trying to cover up something. Bridget tried desperately to figure out the mystery as she drove Mag around the city.

"Anything wrong Mag?" Bridget asked her boss two nights before the opera, "you can tell me anything."

"Well no, but yes I can't tell you what it is exactly but there is something that is bothering me."

"Can you give me a hint?"

"Alright."

Leaving this place is harder than it looks

It's not because of memories

It's because we share a bond

A bond I wish that I could break

A deal I wish I hadn't made

They gave me sight

But that gift has only deepened my plight

"Mag!" Rotti's voice ran through the intercom.

"Bridget, you have to leave! Now!"

"Blind Mag report to my office at once."

"Shouldn't I go with you? My hours aren't over yet."

"No, leave!"

And with that Sasha woke up in her bed, drenched head to toe in sweat.