Writing a Dream

Posts tagged “Death

Easy

I read an article on Amy Winehouse and it gave her cause of death after a lengthy inquest to try to figure out how and why she died. Turns out she went on a sort of bender in the days leading up to her death. She died of alcohol poisoning. As before, the jokes about rehab and her song started swirling all over again. I couldn’t help but think to myself how mean spirited some people are. It seems its so easy to make fun of someone like a celebrity who had a real world problem. People seem to forget that there are millions of people out there deal with alcohol addiction, not just musicians, actors, or professional athletes. I think it’s also really sad that for some reason, rarely do other feel the need to defend people like Winehouse and only look to tear her down.

She had a problem just like anyone else in the world. It was a problem she needed serious help with. It’s unfortunate that the help came too late for her.

Things like this are no unusual in the world of entertainment. You have a lot a money and you have access to things like illegal drugs and vast amounts of alcohol. I think the main reason why so many celebrities fall victim to such things is because of the public. They have an image that they have to live up to so they stress themselves to the breaking point to try and fit that mold; to fit the model that the public wants to see. Sometimes they succeed. Other times, we get Amy.

It’s so remarkably sad that when it comes to someone with money, us everyday Joe’s feel the need to bash and tear those people down. We seem to think that since they have money that they should be happy. As the public, we love our sayings and quotes from famous people, yet when it comes to the downfall of a great person, we never hesitate to knock them. They are easy targets to us. Somehow, it makes us feel a little better to know that someone much more talented and gifted than us can fall. I am waiting for the first person to say otherwise. That person will simply prove my point.

It doesn’t matter who it is that has the problem. As with most things, it’s harder to create something than it is to tear something down. We as people have a choice as to what course we should take. Do we help create something to give to the world or do we just tear it all down. Someone once told me it’s harder to be good than to be evil. It’s harder to be a good parent than a bad parent. It’s harder to be a best friend than an enemy.

Which one are you?

Amy Winehouse

Image by Mr. Mystery via Flickr


To Murder a Child…

I’ve been getting a lot of feedback about the article I did on Casey Anthony and I must say, most people have made some very good points.

The original article can be found here.

So that I do not have to keep constantly making this clarification, I’ll say it here for all to read. The article was intended to encourage debate regarding the media and the way we view it and absorb it’s contents. It was never meant to condemn or condone the actions of Ms. Anthony so please do not assume that was it’s intent. That being said, I welcome any and all comments related to the article with open arms. As a few others have said and as I stated in the article, we may never really know what happened to Caylee. It’s quite possible that Casey did have, at the very least, a small role in her demise.

While I am, as I said, open to criticism and debate, the death threats…yeah. Not cool. If you thumb through the notes, it was suggested by a reader that I have a child only so that it could be murdered so I could know what it felt like to lose a child. Not only was the comment very assuming, but it actually condoned the murder of yet another innocent kid. I must say, quite frankly, that’s no way to further your cause. If you disagree with my article, I am fine with that. Debate is good. Suggesting that children should be murdered just to prove a point…well, that’s just sick.

 

Be sure to check out this petition to enact what will be known as “Caylee’s Law.”

Cool Cat keeps his cool about the Casey Anthony verdict


Dying

When someone comes out and tells you they are dying and they don’t give a damn about life anymore, it makes you wonder: why the hell are you even telling me then if you truly don’t care anymore? How can you say something like that to someone and then give no other details? I am obviously not the most stable person on earth, but at least I don’t screw around with people like that. That is the worse thing you can possibly do to someone who gives a damn about you. Why even tell me then? Why not just go off and die then and not ever tell anyone why? It seems to me you DO still care and you are just looking to make everyone else feel as miserable as you do because of your cancer diagnosis. Well you know what, that’s very fucked up.

We’ve all been sick, some of us more severely than others, but in the times when I was ill at least I had the decency to tell my friends what i was sick from. At least then they were in the loop as far as what was going on. I never screamed fire in a theater, then didn’t stick around to show them where the smoke was coming from. That’s the most screwed up thing you can do. How dare you pull a guilt trip like that on me, then expect for me NOT to ask about what’s going on.

If you want to run off somewhere and die alone, there is nothing I can do to stop that. Luckily some of us have a choice on how we want to die. Others do not. I suppose those of us who can choose our demise should die the way we want to. If you want to die alone and bitter at life just because you got cancer, then go ahead. If you want to hide it all from us, then fine. If you want to be forgotten and not leave some sort of legacy, it’s your choice.

You want all that? Fine. Then go die. You want to push everyone away? Fine, go die. At least when i go I can say that I tried until I couldn’t try anymore. I can look at my life and say that I left my mark. Whether people appreciate it or not, only time will tell. You on the other hand, if you think this is the way to go, obviously nothing I say will change your mind so go on and do it.

Go Die.


Christina

Christina

“What the hell just happened!” I yelled right after I felt a massive jerk from an apparent rear end collision.

Getting out of the car, I felt a slight tinge in my lower back which radiated pain up through my arms and down into my lower extremities. I placed my hand on my back in a supporting fashion, feeling as if it would give out at any moment. I walked back around behind the car to see that my rear bumper was completely smashed in and both of my rear tires where flat. I looked up to the car that collided with my own just in time to see a faceless man fleeing the scene.

“Are you serious!” I yelled, watching his gauntly figure disappearing into the distance. I looked back down at the car then remembered my passenger. I looked up and over the top of the vehicles to see that she’s already exited as I had. She seemed ok, not showing any signs of pain or discomfort. “Can you believe that guy just nailed us then took off like that?”

“Well,” she said, tossing her hands into the air. “Not like it’s really an option to go chasing the guy. Besides, the car is still here. Maybe they can track him down with it.”

“I supposed you’re right,” I responded. “Unless he stole the car.”

“Let’s just hope that’s not the case.”

As we stood by the car which was situated just off the curb on a surface street, I began to feel a little light headed so I thought it best to have a seat on a small bench on the other side of the sidewalk. I took a deep breath, wondering how long it would take for the police to arrive to work the accident scene, which, because of the other driver’s unwillingness to remain and deal with the situation, had now become a crime scene.

As I sat, I looked up and down the street and noticed that the neighborhood we were in was rather barren. The sidewalks were devoid of people taking walks or children playing with the friends. I began to listen and notice the absence of sounds most people take for granted such as the singing of birds or the occasional bark of a dog. I looked back up and noticed Christina still standing by the car, looking it over as if it were meant for close inspection.

“Maybe you should sit down as well,” I said to her, prompting a glance. “In accidents like this, sometimes you don’t even know that you’re hurt. My head seems ok though. I don’t think I bumped it.”

“I think I am fine actually,” she said as she smiled at me, her long brown hair flowing in the breeze. “It’s sad though that your car is trashed though.”

“I really like my car,” I said as I threw my eyes onto it. “The shape it’s in though, I might just as well see if the insurance will total it for me.”

“I am sure it can be fixed. It looks bad now, but with I am sure you can get it as good as new.”

“I doubt it. Once you’ve had an accident, the car is never the same. Sure, it can be repaired and it will drive and get you places, but there is always something different about it. Like there is something not quite right.”

“Then you have to adjust to it,” she said, moving her head left and right, as if steering around invisible objects. “I mean if you think about it, as the car gets older, little things here and there will go wrong with it regardless of how much prevention you take. What keeps you in the car though is making sure the major parts of it are still intact; in good working order. As long as you can do that, you’ll be ok.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said as I took another deep breath, my back throbbing with discomfort now. “I feel like crap here, yet you look perfectly fine. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” she said, folding her arms as a smirk ran across her lips. “All I know is I guess we’re missing the reunion.”

“Missing it?” I said. “If we miss it, they’ll be mad at us.”

“You maybe,” she said with a laugh. “I went to the reunion last year. As for you…” She paused for a moment and became lost in thought. “Have you ever gone to one?”

“No,” I said. “And I’d thank you kindly to not remind me of that. It just feels weird going to those things.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know any of those people!”

“Those people? Those people are your family. Stop being so dense!”

“Well, I know that, but I don’t remember any of them. It’s like I see photos of them and all I can think of is I am looking at ghosts.”

“Why ghosts?” she asked.

“I just can’t for the life of me remember things like you all can. I can’t remember birthdays, thanksgivings, Christmas’, Easter’s, anything like that from when we were kids. I might as well have not even been there.”

“You can’t remember. Fine. Then instead try making some new memories. Try getting to know them all over again. We are you family and we understand.”

“It’s embarrassing,” I said, lowering my voice. “I don’t want to get into that awkward situation when someone comes up to me and greets me and I have no idea who they are. I mean I know who they are because of photos and my mom telling me who they are, but I don’t remember anything of them.”

We continued talking like this, discussing my neglectful ways of dealing with this issue and soon, she saw fit to take a seat next to me. The breeze continued to blow and the evening air grew colder as we continued to wait for help to arrive. As we sat, she teased me about various things such as my ears and how I could pick up satellite transmissions with them if I wore a foil hat.

After she had a good laugh at my expense, she confided in a few worries of her own such as her children and her various considerations on raising them. She also mentioned an accident she had at home not too long ago. Spending they day with their grandmother, Christina saw fit to come by my mother’s house to pay a visit and to see if she could talk me into coming to the reunion. Needless to say, she was successful which is why we were heading there before the accident stopped us. My mother had prepared several dishes for the feast that was to occur that evening and unfortunately, they all did not fit in her vehicle. Christina, who had an SUV offered her car to my mother, stating that she would ride with me out to the meeting spot.

After helping my mother pack the SUV with the various foods, we saw her off and Christina had accomplished her mission. She had come all way down from east Texas to go to the reunion and she knew that her only way there now was if I drove her, which meant I was going too.

“I still say you tricked me into coming,” I said as I nudged her. “Or did you secretly collude with my mother to make this happen?”

“My lips are sealed on that question,” she said as she lifted her chin into the air and smiled.

Looking up and down the carless street again, I took notice that we’d been waiting for help for quite some time and still, not a single police cruiser or ambulance had arrived. I held my breath and listen for the sound of a faint siren or the hum of a car engine, but nothing broke the evening silence.

“This is just odd now!” I said as I stood up, instantly feeling the muscles in my back contracting with disapproval. Grunting a bit, I said “We’ve been out here for at least 20 minutes.”

“Yes, we have,” Christina said, keeping her seat on the bench. “They should have definitely been here by now.”

I walked back over toward the car which was quite mangled, a light stream of steam coming from the crushed front end. I looked at the front of the car and, for the first time, noticed that we’d been pushed into another vehicle.

“Christina!” I said, raising my voice. “Did we hit someone when that guy slammed into us?”

“I’m not sure,” she said standing up. “What do you see?”

“How is this possible?” I said as I looked over and finally noticed another car in front of my own. “When I got out earlier…I must have hit my head because I didn’t even notice this other car! Damn it! Maybe someone in that car is hurt!”

“And we’ve been sitting here this entire time!” she said with an upward inflection.

Much to the displeasure of my body, I ran around the front of the car neither of us had noticed and looked inside the driver’s side. To my surprise, the seat was empty. I looked up to Christina with a look of disbelief.

“It’s empty,” I said as she walked over to me. “What is going on here!”

“I’m not sure,” she said in response. “This is like something out of the twilight zone!”

“Ok, we seriously need to start looking for help instead of just waiting for it.”

I looked up and noticed that the lights in the houses lining the street were all turned off. There were no cars in the driveways and none of the mailboxes had addresses on them. As I looked for any signs of life, I suddenly felt a great and terrible pain course through my chest, as if my heart were racing and about to burst. Unable to withstand the building pressure, I fell to my knees, stretching out my right arm to brace myself from hitting the pavement. I began to struggle for breath, my lungs feeling as if a horrendous force were being exerted upon them. Fear gripped my being as I felt life being pulled away from me.

“Christina!” I said as loud as I could, the lack of air almost muting my voice. “Something’s wrong!”

As I called out for her, I spun myself around, falling down onto the street, almost flat on my back. I could see her standing there looking upon me, the breeze still catching her hair as it blew past. Her eyes seemed bewildered and her smile had turned solemn. The breeze suddenly turned fierce, blowing leaves from trees and lifting tufts of dirt from the ground. As it grew stronger, Christina still remained, her body barely moving as if the wind had welcomed her into its realm. Stronger and stronger it grew till I could barely keep my eyes open. The eerie whistle of the gusts rang thru the trees and seemed to play a melancholic tune which drew my attention away from her. Leaves danced past my eyes and the noise, which had started as a melodic symphony, roared into a hellish tempest.

Rain fell and stung my face, beating me mercilessly into the pavement. Hail began to fall, piercing my existence with furious anger. Glancing around, I felt I had no other choice but to see cover from my car. Scampering over, I felt the wind pushing me from left to right and the rain penetrating my skin and pinching my nerves. A crack of thunder alerted me to the presence of imposing size of the tempest as it seized control and ripped away all faculties of my sanity. My face pressed against the fender of the car, I look up to see Christina still standing there, unaffected by the raging storm which had charged in.

“Get over here!” I yelled to her. “You’re going to get hurt! Get over here!”

The wind and rain still ravaging the air, Christina looked over at me and smiled, her visage unobstructed from the wrathful storm. As I looked upon her, a violent crack of thunder shook me down to the foundation of my soul and forced my eyes shut. An explosion of sound filled my ears, and an insensate pulse tore away my consciousness.

Opening my eyes, I could still see a light rain falling and the street below me was quite wet. Lifting myself up, I no longer felt the agonizing pain in my chest, nor the cramping muscles in my back. Next to me was my car, still mangled from the car accident along with a car in front of it and behind as well. Wiping the moisture from my face, I looked over inside the car and there, on the passenger seat was Christina, looking as if she were simply napping, her head lying back against the rest.

Unsure if she were alright, I managed to pry the car door open and climb in beside her. As I was about to touch her face to try and wake her, the sound of a siren suddenly broke the silent calm of the evening. Glancing toward the rear of the car, in the distance, I could see the unmistakable flashing lights of a squad car approaching. I let out a sign of relieve as I watched the car draw closer to us. I looked back down to her.

“Hey, Christina, they are finally…”

I stopped. I looked down to see only an empty car seat where she once was. I looked into the backseat and was greeted with emptiness. Panic quickly set in as I pulled myself from inside the car, becoming tangled with the seatbelt. As I climbed out, I noticed a man near the back of my car holding his neck and grimacing. I turned to my other side and noticed a handful of people gathering, a few of them on their phones and talking while others stood there taking pictures and shooting videos. Slowly a sharp pain began to gather in the nerves of my back and pulse rhythmically with the beating of my heart.

The squad car I had spotted finally pulled up and as I looked around more and more, I began to notice other police vehicles as well, along with an ambulance. Exiting his car, a police officer walked over to me and spoke to me.

“Sir,” he said, with a cautious undertone. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need the medics to look you over?

“I think I am ok,” I said as I kept looking around. “My cousin though. My cousin Christina. She was in the car with me.”

“Where is she now, sir? Is she ok?”

“She was just right here with me, but now I don’t know. She must have gotten out or something.”

“Well then she must still be in this area.”

The officer walked over to the crowd and began to ask them questions. He talked to several people who all had the same response. Turning around and waving at me, he called me over.

“Sir, some of these people said they saw the accident happen and none of them recall seeing a woman exit your vehicle,” he said, the concern on his face growing. “They are saying you were alone in your car when the accident occurred.”

“What?” I said. “No, no. I was with her in the car. We were heading over to a ranch for a family reunion. She came over to get me to go. My mother took her car so she had to ride with me. I know she was in the car with me.”

My voice was becoming erratic.

“Do not stand there and tell me you didn’t see her cause she was right there with me!” I said, my nerves on edge.

“Sir,” the officer said. “I need you to stay calm. Look, maybe they were mistaken and they just didn’t see her get out of the car.”

“That right!” I said, my eyes darting around emphatically. “She was here with me! I looked right at her when I noticed your car pulling up, then suddenly she was gone. Maybe she hit her head. Maybe she became confused and got out of the car and just walked away!”

“Sir,” the officer said putting his hands on my arms and trying to calm me still. “I really think you need to get checked out. You’ve got a pretty nasty gash on your forehead.”

“Gash?” I said, putting my hand to my head. Pulling it back down, I noticed a slight trace of blood. “How in the hell did I get this?”

“You just had a traffic accident,” said the officer. Taking me by the arm he said “You really should go to the hospital.”

“But Christina…”

“I’ll let the guys here know we may have a stray lingering about and we’ll have our guys keep an eye out, but right now, you need some medical attention.”

I reluctantly got into the ambulance and let them look me over. What was once described to me as a gash seemed to be serious so the paramedic insisted that I go to the hospital to get checked out. He patched me up to stop the bleeding and instructed his partner to head out.

Once at the hospital, I was looked over and tested and stuck with needles in various parts of my body. I was scanned and x-rayed to make sure I was alright. As I waited for the next test, an officer from the scene made his way to me and asked me about the accident. I told him that I was rear ended and apparently pushed into the vehicle in front of me. When I asked about Christina, the officer looked away from me and up to the nurse who had just retaken my blood pressure for what felt like the 100th time. He waved her outside.

I could hear him speaking to her and letting her know that I was stating that I was with a woman although none one by that name had been involved in the accident. Just then, the attending physician walked over and spoke to the officer as well. I could see him just outside my door as the cop told him the same story he had just told the nurse. Looking over at me, the doctor nodded his head. Walking in with the nurse and the officer, he smiled at me, pulled up a stainless steel stool and had a seat.

“Who is ‘Christina’ to you?” he asked as he tilted his head to the left.

“Did you find her?” I asked. “Is she here?”

“Son, that’s not what I am asking. I need to know who she is to you.”

“Christina is my cousin. We were on our way to…” I was interrupted.

“To the family reunion,” The doctor said. “Yes, the officer here filled me in on that. He said you are claiming that she was with you in the car?”

“I’m not claiming. I know she was with me. We had the accident and I saw her there in the seat next to me. I know she was there!”

“Ok, ok,” the doctor said. “Just stay calm, son.”

“Stop calling me son!” I said, my rage beginning to spill over. “You need to get out there and find her! What are you all doing to find out what happened to her!”

“Sir,” the officer said, a solemn look on his face. “After they left with you to bring you here, I asked around some more about your ‘Christina’ and after talking to over 30 people, not a single one says they saw a woman in the car with you. You were alone in the car, sir. Your cousin wasn’t with you during the accident.”

Lying in the hospital bed the night was a restless affair. Sleep would not greet me, although I was remarkably tired from explaining the same story to several different people throughout the day. Although I didn’t want to stay, the doctors were dead set against me leaving the hospital, claiming that I’d suffered a concussion and needed to be monitored. I tossed for what seemed like hours, trying to figure out what was going on inside my head. I replayed the events of that evening over and over and still couldn’t figure out what really happened. Unable to rest, I lifted my head and sat up in bed. I looked over to my hospital room door and noticed it was slightly cracked.

A ray of light was penetrating the darkness in my room, setting off a series of shadows which rocked to and fro. I could hear a voice just outside my room and took it for the night time nurses conversing. Just then, I heard a light knock on the door. I noticed a feminine hand reaching through, grasping the door and slowly pushing it open. As it swept open, my eyes were temporarily blinded by intense white. With wincing eyes, I forced myself to look at who had come in.

“So you did bump your head,” she said as she looked at me from the doorway. “Don’t be a pest to them. Let them check you out.”

“Christina!” I said, raising my voice. “What happened to you? Did you take off or something?”

“I didn’t take off,” she said. “I was there with you the entire time.”

“No you weren’t. The cops looked for you. They said no one has any idea of who you are.”

“No, they don’t.”

“What?”

“They have no idea who I am,” she said as she smiled at me.

“Why wouldn’t they?” I asked.

Looking to her right, Christina said “I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Time for what?”

“To stay here.”

“What are you talking about.”

“I have to go soon. I did what I came to do and now I have to get going,” she said as she slowly retreated backward out of the door. “I can’t have you talking to yourself too much. Someone might think you are crazy.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

As I spoke, Christina disappeared out of view. I eagerly threw the blankets off my body and flung myself toward the door, almost ripping the IV from my arm. Grabbing the IV stand, I moved as fast I could out the hospital room door and into the hallway. Just a few steps in front of me she stood, her eyes fixed on me and her smile as bright as sunlight.

“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” I said as I gasped for breath.

Sighing, she responded.

“I’m afraid it is,” she said, the smile disappearing. “It wasn’t your time yet, so I asked if I could come and make sure you were ok.”

“Make sure I was ok?”

“Yes.”

“You mean you left your kids with your parents to come see if I was ok in the hospital?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” she said. “Let’s just say sometimes things happen and we aren’t really supposed to know why they do.”

“Wait a minute,” I said as my mind began to work. “So you weren’t with me in the car when the accident happened?”

“We’re always there with you,” she said. “Me, Grandma and Grandpa Sanchez; we’re always around and we always will be.”

With a massive lump in my throat, I said “So you mean you’re…”

She nodded her head.

“The accident you had…”

She nodded once more.

My knees weakened, sending my body slumping down to the floor. My hands begin to shake and sweat poured from my forehead.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said. “Like I said, it wasn’t your time. Not for a long time.”

Laughing a bit at the comment, I said “How do you know?”

“I have it on the highest authority,” she said as I looked back up at her. “I really do have to go now, but I am glad I came to make sure you were ok.”

“Christina,” I said as she turned around to walk away. “Will I ever see you again?”

Turning back toward me, Christina smiled and gave me a nod, letting me know we’d see each again someday. As she walked away, I felt the presence in my heart, unlike I’d felt for years. Although a sadness seemed to overtake my spirit, I was left with the impression that there would come a time when I’d see her again, and she’d make another joke about my ears. I also thought of my grandparents, and knowing that they were going to be there to watch over her left me with a hopeful, yet somber sense of satisfaction.

Walking further into the distance, I could see the brightness of a new future ahead for her and I hoped she would embrace that new beginning, and not dwell on what she could no longer have say over. While her departure was sudden and swift, her spirit lived on and continued to offer guidance and comfort to those she was close to. I looked at her reach the end of the hallway and with a smile and a glance from her, she lightly touched her hand to the wall, turned the corner and was gone.

My Cousins Kevin and Christina

http://palestineherald.com/obituaries/x651393778/Christina-Sanchez


Sweet Dreams

Apparently it’s my turn to start dreaming of various different book and movie ideas. Tonights was a bit violent, the second one at least. The first was standard fair. And to better explain what I mean by “tonight” i was asleep by 6pm and got out of bed by 11pm, waking up several times throughout my “night”.

The first was Olivia and I, but our topic of discussion was a little different. We sat there in a coffee shop and we were discussing her stress levels. I was offering her suggestions to help ease it so that her health wouldn’t suffer. We sipped our drinks and looked outside, watching people walk by and go about their lives.

The second…was kind of insane. I assure you I am not some loony. This was just one of those weird dreams that’s kind of unexplainable, yet interesting. I was with a group of time travelers and we would jump from different versions of out world, parallel dimensions. We were trying to find out way back to our world which mathematically speaking may be impossible since according to many scientists there could be an infinite number of parallel universes out there. The only way to force ourselves to move from time to time was to murder ourselves in our current time. Usually it was not difficult to find us, most of the time we found ourselves at home, school, work, etc. There were a total of five of us doing this. Myself, 3 women and another man. The man was about late 20s, one of the woman was a young girl, maybe about 15, then there was a somewhat younger woman about early 20s, then an older woman who was about 45. We had apparently been doing this for some time as we had become exceedingly good at quite literally killing ourselves. We usually hunted as a group to assure our success. We would hunt for myself and the other man…the other me and the other guy to be clear…so that we can move on to the usually easier female targets. As we hunted, we would surround the locations of our other selves and move in for the kill with precision. The other guy would usually break in and scare the other us, flushing them out of the house or into a place in their location where they would be trapped. Once cornered, we would without much talk execute the other us, then move on to our next target. We continued doing this for what felt like 50-60 times and of course we were never transported home after the final kill.

The logic told us that when we got home, we would not find our other selves and that we would simply know we got back because it would “feel” like home. Finally after another successful hunt, we failed to “jump” to a new dimension, thus ending our journey. Out of frustration and knowing we would never get home, we began killing each other. The other man killed the teenager and the woman in her 20 ran for her life. The older woman and the  other man hunted each other for what seemed like ages. Finally the man caught up to the older woman and shot her 4-5 times. While she was dying, he moved over top of her and began to chastise her, seemingly blaming her for our not getting home. While he was talking trash, she was able to lift up her shot gun and shoot him in the face, killing him instantly. I heard the shot and ran over to see what was happening. When i got close, the woman was still alive, but barely physically functional. I knelled down besides her and assured her I wasn’t there to kill her. As I watched her die, i took her hand to offer her some comfort and told her that I didn’t think it was her fault, that this was something bigger than ourselves. Sitting there I did not hear the woman in her 20s come back and put a gun to my head. I told her I was unarmed and had not shot the older woman or the dead man lying next to her. I told her that I had no intention of hunting her and that it was pointless for us to kill each other as it would never help us get home. Still cautious, the woman slowly backed out of the room and left again. I looked back down at the older woman to see that she had expired.

I walked out of a building covered in blood, almost in shock over the ordeal I had gone through. I fell to the ground and the woman in her 20 reappeared. She said she thinks she figured out how to get us home and it didn’t involve murder. She sat next to me and held my hand as rain began to fall. The drops washed away the blood from the both of us and we fell to sleep. When we awoke we were home, sitting on a park bench surrounded by children and families having a good time there. We both knew we were home. We exchanged handshakes and vowed to never speak of the misadventure that we shared. We both turned away from each other and walked away.