A Nightmare's Fate

Nevermore

Chapter Six: Nevermore

Explosions of torment; the fluorescent floodlight of worry, beaming through my veins, wanting me to run but I don't. I stay glued to the gravel, yearning to know what happens. I want to save him, but I can't get him out of the way. I open my mouth, but I can't scream. Nothing comes out but a muffled squeak, too low even elephants can't even hear. Flames of combustion set off and I'm too late.

            He's dead.

            Now that I can finally move, I run to his corpse as he lies on the ground. Kneeling next to him, I put my palm underneath his head and my other hand on top of his chest, as I rake my fingers through his blonde hair. Tears form in my eyes, screaming through my unbaled-to-breathe lungs, because it hurts to even respire. My throat throbs as I keep bawling, but I ignore the pain. The only agony I truly feel is losing him. Losing Kenton. The only living thing I care most about throughout the whole universe, but he's dead now.

            My screams get louder, my anger consuming my physique. I can't stand this. It's like someone is drilling a hole through my chest, laughing at my displeasure. People, whom surround me, try to calm me down, but I push them away and yell at them. They can't tell me to stop being angry, to be sad.

            Screeching louder, my voice rises, "Don't touch him!" I narrow my eyes at each person, my rage increasing more and more with each second that goes by. I get a glimpse of Kenton again, then back to the people around me. I take a knife out from one of my pockets and plunge it through my chest, twisting it so I can die faster. Major pain goes through me, but I ignore it as blood spills out from my body.

            This is the Romeo and Juliet side of our love story. How Kenton gets killed and I commit suicide because of it.

            My eyes flutter open from the nightmare; I sit up and realize that the sun hasn't shined through my bedroom window yet. Looking at the clock, it's four in the morning. Moaning, I lie back down and shut my eyes. But all I see is darkness and the little clear balls that one sees floating around in their eyelids. Taking a deep breath, I throw my duvet cover to the side and stand, pacing my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, making myself a new pot of coffee. After making it, I pour some into a cup, sit down at the kitchen table, and drink while staring at my phone.

            I notice a voice-mail message that hasn't been checked. I press it and put the phone to my ear.

"Raven, you need to wake up and come to work. I know you're having a tough time, but you need to bulk up and be brave. I'm losing patience with you. Goodbye."

As the receiver ends, I roll my eyes. Of course, typical Wayde, always ordering everyone around but in a nice matter, I think. She's more of a boss than a friend. She's friendly but tough, mean but nice. We never hang out after work times, unless a meeting is hold and it isn't at the occupation. But I shouldn’t be sitting here and giving criticism to her because I know she is right. I haven’t been in work for more than two weeks. I’m just surprised she hasn’t fired me yet.

            Drinking the rest of my coffee, I go back upstairs to take a quick shower and change into my work clothes; a red suit shirt, skirt, and jacket and red high heels. When done, I race down the steps and into the garage, sitting in the car, and putting the key into the ignition, as the car roars to life.

            Arriving at a large building, blackened windows around the skyscraper, I find a parking space and park the car. I walk out and see a sign that says "CITY TIMES." It's a short sign covered in beige and black writing carved into the stone.