The Dream

Her vision was blurred but there was no mistaking feeling of dread; like a hot stone sinking inside her chest, burning her heart.  The pain took her to the brink of choking; gasping but she remained seated; still.  Along the back of her neck, dusting her ears came the whispers.  They were light, soft and filled with venom. She pinched her eyes shut behind the veil and willed her ears to ring and drown them out. Vicki couldn't take one more word.  She felt stuffed with sympathy and tears. She was on the verge of exploding in to a screaming rage that would tell them all to go to Hell and to leave her alone.  She didn't want their greasy hands touching her arms or holding her hands to reassure her.  She couldn't bear the thought of one more "I"m so sorry." Her ribs threatened to break apart and spill out all the sorrow she was holding in; too afraid and angry to let it out to be seen by anyone.  Steve had left her alone.  He had promised forever and now that wasn't true. He was gone. There would be no retirement, empty nesting or rocking chairs on the porch.  Gone was the hope of cruising the country in their large motor home meeting new people and camping with their dogs. There would be no children or weddings or graduations; no knock-down drag out fights for the sake of hot make-up sex. She had lost her best and favorite playmate.  She wanted Steve to be here ... at his own funeral so they could giggle and laugh; so he could make her feel strong and beautiful because at the moment, she had never felt so alone, terrified and weak. Vicki sat perfectly still, praying all the pain and grief wouldn't cling to her like gum from the sidewalk on a summer day that she would carry home. She was hoping to leave it all in the dirt marked by a cold etched stone. Now her eyes filled with warm tears. They snuck over the edge of her lashes to streak down her cheeks. Bowing her head, she felt a hand touch her arm accompanied by a soft bump

"Vicki?"

She looked up confused by the sound of the voice and gazed around. She was in the limo now.

"Vicki, honey, we're at the church.  Are you ready?"

She looked down at her hands holding flowers. Through the veil, she saw familiar faces all smiling and laughing.  At first she furrowed her brow and scowled, finding their displays callous and sick.  Next to her was her sister in a lovely formal gown and a smaller version of her own bouquet and on the steps across the street was her father in a tux. Waiting.  Already wiping his eyes.

"Awful." she said quietly, blotting her eyes; "Awful dream."

"What honey?"

She shook her head wanting to clear it and bring it around to what should be the happiest day of her life. She watched as everyone began to swat playfully to shoo her fiance' up the steps and into the House of God. She smiled nervously. It was all going to happen. She was starting her life. He was there. Steven. His strong arms to hold her, his sense of humor, his warm eyes, his kisses; forever and ever. Amen.

"Nothing." and the smile spread.  She felt the sick warm paste in her belly turning to flitting butterflies.  she started to anticipate the evening, the honeymoon, her new role as Missus right next to the man of her dreams.

"Let's do this." she said to the girls all waiting for her reaction to set it off. The bride reached for the handle as the chauffeur opened the door.  Everyone grinned from their foreheads to the tips of their shoes.  The camera began to click and flash.  She blinked, smiled and waved to everyone she loved.

The truck never slowed; hitting the limousine at a whopping 40mph making the stretched out car look like a stumpy boomerang. Glass burst into the air like jagged fireworks.  Bending crumpling metal screeched as tires smoked and lubbed to a stop.  There was shouting. Above her appeared his face, Steven.  Vicki thought rain was streaking her forehead and remembered hearing it was good luck; rain on your wedding day. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw his tears.  His hands and arms gathered as much of her as he could, pulling her to him. They sat in the road; this battered bride and pristine groom, a symbol of all that a life together is; uncertain, messy, vulnerable.  He sang softly to her their song which was to play later that evening after they were man and wife. he kept kissing her face.  People, like gnats buzzed around; each attaching themselves to the net and either taking photos for Instagram, vine or Facebook or calling someone to be the first to tell them of the horrible tragedy about to upload to Youtube.

There were sirens and flashing lights. Vicki reached up and touched Steven's face.  He smiled and gently kissed her again.  

"The dream." she whispered. But in her ears it echoed like a thousand gunshots

"What dream Baby?" Steven was looking around and rocking back and forth. "Someone HERE. SHE'S HERE"

"I dreamt I was at a funeral."

"No Honey. Our wedding. Today is our wedding." His voice was jagged and hitched. "You are my wife."

"Not yet." she chided and tried to show him her left hand.  Steven screamed for someone. Vicki tried to understand why he was so angry on their wedding day.  She was only teasing. She thought his nerves were getting the best of him.  He would relax and be better at the reception she hoped.  "I just need to rest. So. tired." She was aware of a heavy warmth spreading through her body.

"No not yet. No Vicki. Wait..." and she felt a jabbing pain as he grabbed at her hand and slid the ring over her finger. "Don't leave me. You're my wife.  We are supposed to be together."

"Forever." she finished.

He kissed her hand tasting bitter cold metal. She closed her eyes and blew him a kiss tainted with sad, dark blood. The emergency crew arrived and pulled her away from him; trying to help her hang on. It was impossible.

His sobs floated into the sky like the doves they were to release after their vows.  Even now, at her graveside he could barely stand. People whispered condolences. They touched his arm and he did all he could to not pull away. He missed her so much; his rock, the one woman who understood his humor, who made him feel smart and strong. He stared at the gaping hole in the ground and the stone that would be placed above her.

"How could you leave me?" the shattered groom lowered his head and others began to whisper as his shoulders shook with grief and despair.

The wind blew coolly through the trees rattling those that were already dried and fragile.  Steven smelled her perfume; probably her mother or a sister, he thought absently.  He swore that he heard her voice tickle the back of his neck. He took a ragged breath and dropped her favorite flower next to her grave.  With all his effort, he began to walk; passed a life that never was, a woman who couldn't be his, and a dream unreachable.



How's that grab ya? Not a cheery tale at all, but I still liked it.  I had a horrible dream one night and had to write it down and twist it around a little. I needed to get rid of it. Thanks for visiting.  I am trying to get back here more often.  With all that's going on, I need the outlet and feel better spending a little time with you all. 

Well I hope you had a grand weekend. I am gearing up for football and have my picks ready for today. I can hardly wait.This year, I hope to reclaim my trophy. 

May the wins be with you. :)
See you soon.