Not waking

A very short story about a dream i had about a friend a while ago.

Not waking

Whenever I dream, I feel like I get another life inside my life for a few moments, but that also means when I wake up I die. The world, the dream I have, I never have it again.

I dream again but never like that, never that dream, not exactly. This is what I think and this is the dream where we both lived for a few moments.

It's dark. My dreams always start in the dark. Now im on a bus. It's empty, it seems to be night time and im riding on a bus that is driven by no one and there are no passangers except for me and you. The only light that clears the darkness comes from street lamps that we pass and for some reason its a blueish light that gives an ethereal nuance to everything. I wonder why you are here, I never thought I would be dreaming about you, I look at you and try to ask where are we and where are we going but you have a calm and knowing expression on your face, and somehow I know that you belong here, now.

After what it felt like minutes you rise from your seat next to me and go to the middle of the bus and look out the window. I come after you, curious to know what you are looking at. Its and endless street. I think to myself “just an endless street” like that is something common and the right attitude is to be annoyed by the realization.

After a moment of gazing at the endless repetition of street lamps coming and going it starts to rain, and the street is getting different now. We seem to be going somewhere. The bus suddenly stops, and we are looking out to see buildings near a coast line, lightning reveal them to be ruined and deformed. And there in the rain walking behind the buildings is Him. The enemy, the one that hates.

He is walking away not seeing us, a brown hood masking his face as he treks in the mud. Suddenly a flash of lightning strikes a building near Him and he stops and looks in our direction, like he was looking for something. But he still couldn't see us so he resumed his slow walk among the buildings and away from us.

While this happened you looked out the window and didn't say anything. You just focused your eyes on him and nodded as agreeing to some explanation I never told you, like you somehow knew exactly and who he was and what this meant.

The bus starts moving again and we just stood there looking outwards into the empty streets for, i don't know what. Now we are suddnely on the pier near the old casino house. It stopped raining but the sky was still heavy with storm clouds. We're looking out at the sea and in the horizont I see what I think is the sunrise and I tell you “hey look, we caught the sunrise”. You turn at me with a sad look like the one when someone knows something bad is about to happen and dosen't know how to say it, you say “That's not the sunrise... it's, buring.” Right after she uttered the last word I zoom towards the faraway light to see that it was just flames whiping out in all directions burning the clouds and the sea.

They felt never ending and impossible and so out of place but it was just staying there like a line someone drawed to stop them from burning everything.

That's when I woke up, and it felt nice for once to have a friend there with me even if it wasn't true, even if I may never have it again, once, for a few moments you lived and died there with me in a emtpy buss, looking at an endless street, seeing one of my shadows and watched my burning horizont.

Thank you for being my friend.