Post by Scruffy on Jul 24, 2015 8:44:44 GMT -5
(Something I wrote almost a year ago, so 'last winter' means february 2014. It's a true story and one of my most important works to me, although when I started writing it it wasn't going to be something I was going to put any work into.)
Last winter, a boy in my graduating class died. A combination of alcohol poisoning and the cold night air killing him on the night he ran from a busted party to avoid the cops.
I didn’t know him, but in high school, he seemed to like me - although I could never tell if he was joking. He asked me out in junior high, and touched my arm in class one day in senior high. He was cute, he was athletic. He joked around a lot. But I didn’t know him that well, or have any platonic or romantic feelings for him. I knew his mother to an extent because she often came to the library I worked at.
The morning after he died in a field a ways from the party, my mother received a phone call. I was sitting on the couch, and I just stared at her for awhile after she told me. For weeks, I didn’t believe it, despite the large number of trauma support groups in school.
I went to the funeral, I hugged his mom, I watched his memoir video and viewed his pictures. His mom stopped coming to the library for awhile.
His football number had been #4. My classmates and teachers talked about how they kept waking up or falling asleep at 4 am, and other situations involving the number. I found it interesting but let it go, glad they had something to hold on to, at least.
It wasn’t long before I started having the dreams. By it wasn’t long I mean a month, maybe two. In the dreams, he was alive. Now, at least half of my dreams are lucid, but none of these were.
In the dreams he was happy, he was alive, his friends were there and on some occasions them and I asked what he was doing, he was supposed to be dead. He often replied, “what are you talking about?” or shrugged it off.
I often woke up wanting to know why I was dreaming about him. After all, we weren’t friends. We rarely, if ever, talked. He was the friend of my friend’s crush.
Last night, I had a dream about him again. It’s been about a month since my last one. This time, it was lucid. I was a little shy about asking, but I wanted to know. We sat next to each other - I think at some kind of pub. I said, “Michael, why are you always in my dreams?” And he turned to me, and I can’t remember what he said.
I feel like he might’ve said “I just don’t want to be forgotten.” How could I, or anyone, forget him? Why does he want me to remember? If that’s what he said, I don’t understand. And I can’t remember clearly if that’s what he said, or something else, and it’s very upsetting.
Last winter, a boy in my graduating class died. A combination of alcohol poisoning and the cold night air killing him on the night he ran from a busted party to avoid the cops.
I didn’t know him, but in high school, he seemed to like me - although I could never tell if he was joking. He asked me out in junior high, and touched my arm in class one day in senior high. He was cute, he was athletic. He joked around a lot. But I didn’t know him that well, or have any platonic or romantic feelings for him. I knew his mother to an extent because she often came to the library I worked at.
The morning after he died in a field a ways from the party, my mother received a phone call. I was sitting on the couch, and I just stared at her for awhile after she told me. For weeks, I didn’t believe it, despite the large number of trauma support groups in school.
I went to the funeral, I hugged his mom, I watched his memoir video and viewed his pictures. His mom stopped coming to the library for awhile.
His football number had been #4. My classmates and teachers talked about how they kept waking up or falling asleep at 4 am, and other situations involving the number. I found it interesting but let it go, glad they had something to hold on to, at least.
It wasn’t long before I started having the dreams. By it wasn’t long I mean a month, maybe two. In the dreams, he was alive. Now, at least half of my dreams are lucid, but none of these were.
In the dreams he was happy, he was alive, his friends were there and on some occasions them and I asked what he was doing, he was supposed to be dead. He often replied, “what are you talking about?” or shrugged it off.
I often woke up wanting to know why I was dreaming about him. After all, we weren’t friends. We rarely, if ever, talked. He was the friend of my friend’s crush.
Last night, I had a dream about him again. It’s been about a month since my last one. This time, it was lucid. I was a little shy about asking, but I wanted to know. We sat next to each other - I think at some kind of pub. I said, “Michael, why are you always in my dreams?” And he turned to me, and I can’t remember what he said.
I feel like he might’ve said “I just don’t want to be forgotten.” How could I, or anyone, forget him? Why does he want me to remember? If that’s what he said, I don’t understand. And I can’t remember clearly if that’s what he said, or something else, and it’s very upsetting.