Eight reviews for chapter eight! Awesome. You guys made this girl so happy! Thank you all for reading and partaking on this story. It is coming to an end. Sad but proud. Mixed feelings! Keep reviewing and enjoying! (No answers!)
I don't remember how I made it to my room. Did I even make it there? I don't know. My body hurts still. Each second that passes is making it heavier and heavier, and if it doesn't stop, I am sure that I am going to die. But despite the physical pain, my heart is causing an even greater agony. Why? Because you left me. You disappeared, leaving me all alone. That should be the worst part, but it is not. I wished that it was, but it is not even close.
I would give up the world if it meant that you would be living. I really would. You might not believe me, but it is true. If I had to pretend to not know you, to not care for you, then I will act my role out with a smile. As long as you were breathing, and maybe happy, I would make myself invisible for you. I would do anything.
You might be wondering why I am bringing this up in the first place. Well, I wouldn't feel the need to if it weren't for the current, reoccurring nightmares. God, I hope they are nightmares. If they are some premonition of some sort, I…Please let it be a dream. Let it be fake when I see you in the rain, walking the street that I carried you on. I am on the other side of the crosswalk, and I am debating if I should make my way over to you. The lights are red, signaling that it is okay for us to cut across the road, and though the machine indicates for us to go, I remain in the same spot. My feet are not glued to the sidewalk; they are molded in the cement. I can't move. I can't move, and it is killing me because though it is safe for pedestrians to cross, it is not. Because a car is coming your way. Because it is not breaking. And the inability to move that is killing me is now killing you.
I don't know why it is not stopping. The driver can see you, can't he? How can he miss you? You, who is so beautiful? But for whatever reason, he remains driving. His foot steadily presses on the gas pedal. I want to yell at you to look out, but I can't find my voice. It is catching in my throat, and try as I might, I can't warn you. Look around. Please! You don't. The car heads closer and closer to you. Please…
There is no honk or screech of the tires as it collides into you. Nothing that demonstrates the driver's attempt to stop or his remorse. Nothing to mask the undeniable sound of metal hitting flesh. It is only when you are on the ground that I am able to move. Only now that the people I had failed to notice around me start talking, whispering, and gasping. Only now that I am crying because I know that I am too late to help you. I run to you anyways. No one follows my lead, but you do not need them. You have me.
I reach you at last, and I carefully turn you to face me. Before I can see the damage the car has done to you, the images fade. The dream breaks apart, and for the moment, I can breathe again because it is all a horrible hallucination until it starts over. Then it is unbearable, for I am in the same damn predicament, waiting for that car to crash into you, again and again, unable to aid you, to save you, to die for you! And it is Hell because a world without you might as well be.
Since my body has this crushing pressure that renders me motionless, I have to suffer this nightmare in a constant loop, without the capability to press pause or to push stop or fast forward or to just turn it off. I lay in this dark abyss of horror with you withdrawing yourself from me in the same, unchanging way. Over and over. It comes to the point when I think that maybe I am growing accustomed to it from the consistent exposure, but then the already crippling nightmare becomes excruciatingly destructive to my mental state as each replay brings me a tad closer to seeing your face after the accident. It is horrifying because I need to see your facial features. I need to know if you are alive, and if you are, what shape you are in. If you are d-dead, I need to memorize everything about you before time inevitably steals you away from me. I need to see you, but I am afraid. I am so scared of your unknown fate that I pray for my stifling pain to increase past the threshold of my capacity to stand it so that I go into shock and slowly die. I actually believe that it is working because after an abrupt sharp throb of my heart, I feel lighter. My limbs don't feel as if they are chained to the ground anymore. I feel like I am heading to, as cliché as it is, the light. It is a piercing ray of light that finally brings me out of my hellish stupor. The light that wakes me up for once and for all.