"We've got AIDS," she wrote, hands shaking. Shivering, she undressed and filled the tub, a small sliver thing tucked into her hand. Slowly, she lowered herself into it. She sucked in a breath and took the blade to one wrist. She gasped as it broke the skin, crimson seeping through the crevice. She quickly slit the other wrist and cried out.
"Oh God!" We shouted together.
I sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily.
"Damn it," I panted. That was the fifth time I had had that dream. The red headed girl had killed herself, leaving a note for her boyfriend. Red, as I called her. She was young, no more than 23, pretty, and full of life.
I had had other dreams, as well. I had been in Red's boyfriend's body. I never saw my face, only Red's body, the note, and the track marks on my arms, scarred and fresh.
There had been another man with me, a pale, skinny person with glasses, a scarf, and a camera, but I took no notice of him.
The howl of rage and grief that ripped through me was like nothing I had experienced before, conscious or otherwise.
I touched my forehead. It as cold and clammy, and my hair was plastered to my forehead. I lay back down, and immediately fell into a new dream...
I was Red's boyfriend, but Red had nothing to do with this. I was sitting in a turquoise hospital chair, with six other people with me. I stared at the man in the bed, hooked up to the monitors. He looked so sick. She, my mind corrected.
This, too, was amazingly clear. Every face was sharp, as though I had known them for years, rather than they were right out of my mind.
No, not here, my mind as Red's boyfriend thought. I won't die here.
Just then, a beautiful Latina girl's face caught my eye. She looked at me sadly, and I stared back accusingly.
The scene shifted.
The phone rang and two men's voices said "Speeeeeeeeak."
A deep baritone voice spoke.
"Guys... i-it's Collins-"
The pale man picked up.
"Hey Collins."
A faint, broken buzzing signified that the man named Collins was answering him.
His pale face went even paler as he nodded.
"Ok. Collins, I-I'm so sorry," he said, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. "Ok. Bye."
He turned to me and spoke in a thick voice.
"Angel's gone."
I abruptly woke up again, tears streaming down my face. It was still dark, but, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't go back to sleep. Not after tonight's dreams.