Dream Come True

He woke up drenched. Drenched in his own sweat. It was the nightmare; the same one which always woke him up; the one which scared him too much; the one which made him fear living the next day; the one where she left him and went away forever.

The neon display of the clock beside his bed screamed out a time just before 3 in the morning. He wiped the sweat lining his brow with the t-shirt he wore and rose up to get a drink of water. Having forgotten the fact that he had bruised his leg the day before, he stepped down too hard and as the spasm caressed him with the pain, a soft moan penetrated his mouth. Walking back he checked the phone beside the bed. The light shone loudly in the darkness, but there was no notification. He slipped back into the covers; and the dream kept replaying itself again and again. He kept on turning in bed till darkness overcame him and sleep took him away.

His eyes opened as the rays of the sun shone through the French windows. He rose and walked to the window to enjoy the stunning sunrise. On the way he picked up the phone and said a silent prayer to keep everything all right. In the distance, the orange ball glowed strikingly hot, and refurbished the dark blue sky into a blanket of red and yellow; wiping away all of the dark from the slate of the sky. But as he keyed in the lock to his phone, the message on its display took the earth away from beneath his heels.

The brightness of the sky vanished in an instant; the murky and gloomy night returned. The only thought which crossed his mind was the dream; not the dream, it had to be a nightmare. It had been true, it had to be; now it wasn’t a figment of his imagination, it was reality. The moment which he had been scared off had come to haunt him.

His reply was short and concise. It just asked the details and what was going to happen next. As the message left his phone, the clock chimed 8 times to signify the early winter hour. And then he waited. Waited for his phone to reveal her reply.

Thoughts flooded his mind; memories punctured his soul; and her face danced in front of his eyes. The time they had spent together played itself all over again in his mind. The walks they had in the park; and the never ending talks. The moment when she first held his hand; and the first time she had kissed him. All of the memories returned back to him. Everything flashed back.

Silence reigned as he slid to the floor, drowning in his own tears as the sorrow engulfed him. His experienced 23 year old brain slid into action and took command of the situation. The thoughts of sadness and misery soon were taken away from him but the question still remained in his mind-what had he done to receive such brutal treatment from God?

Had he hurt her so much? Had he been too possessive? Had he been such a pain to handle? These questions flooded him, and as time passed, he started becoming sure that it was his fault. He was sure he had been such a pain for her. He had loved her more than his life, but he had made her cry. He had made her suffer. He had done so many things in her life which could not receive forgiveness. He had made her life a living hell.

Whatever be the matter, he would not go back to her. No way would that happen. He would not hurt her again. But he would solve this issue first, but her reply was necessary for that. The thoughts still hovering in the background of his mind, he lifted up the phone which had slipped from his grip and lay overturned on the floor and checked for a reply. There was none. He felt as though he had waited for hours, but the display of the mobile phone in his hand thought otherwise. It just displayed a minute past 8. Time was sprinting past him at the speed of a sloth.