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I Dreamt About Boston

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Author's note: I am very concerned about the widespread violence that seems to be shaping our world.I guess that...  Show full author's note »
Author's note: I am very concerned about the widespread violence that seems to be shaping our world.I guess that concern has inspired me to write. I hpe that by sharing our thoughs we can still curtail evil and help the preservation of the good.  « Hide author's note
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2

So it was all just a dream. I should be feeling relieved, but all I can feel is the hopelessness of this case, event, day; as if there is a hole deep inside of me, as if it all really had happened. I felt awful. The room was completely dark, the bed sheets were soaking wet and I could still hear myself breathing heavily. I decide I’ll just go back to sleep. Sleep until noon and forget about this terrifying dream. Never ever remember it again. Though I always remember my nightmares; they are horrible memories from which you can’t get rid of.
I close my eyes and try to calm myself down when I hear the alarm clock, ringing so loudly it hurts my ears. I switch it off. Right, it’s not Saturday today. It’s only Tuesday. Work awaits me.
I get out of the bed, go to the kitchen and sit in front of the table. I’m still seeing parts of my dream, that lady on top of me and most importantly, her eyes. I’m probably never going to be able to forget her eyes but I should try to accept that it was only a bad dream, something that will never happen and will fade eventually in the past, along with all the stupid things that happen to us all.
I stare at the table, my eyes closing. I still feel like a train went over me or something like that. And I could think of only one thing that is capable of making me feel better.
‘Co-ffee?’ I murmur, my voice still sounding weak.
‘Right away!’ A quick response, in a loud, friendly voice.
My blue-eyed boyfriend is already up, making breakfast. It’s 6:30AM, how can he be so… Fresh?! I could even hear him singing some lousy country song. He’s all dressed up in light blue, in his pajamas, whose color matches the one of his eyes perfectly.
He looks at me lovingly and smiles, showing all his teeth, whiter than a summer sky’s clouds.
I try to smile back at him and although it isn’t working, I could feel that he’s the first thing that makes me happy this morning. I remember when I used to say his smile enlightened my whole world. Probably sounds kind of corny. Long gone, but still makes sense.
The sun hasn’t risen yet; the sky is rather grey.
Just now, I realize the TV is on, too. Gosh, that boy always takes care of everything. I have a quick glance at it, not that I’m interested in the news.
‘Sugar in the coffee?’ asks Jay, his voice sounding melodic, so pleasant to listen to.
‘No… Just make it hot. Please.’ I answer, still staring at the empty table. I feel like there’s something in my throat I need to swallow; it even hurts.
‘Of course.’ he responds immediately. He’s so full of energy some may find it very annoying. Yes, I’m sometimes one of those “some”.
I finally see him carrying his and my coffee in his right hand and an enormous sandwich in his left. Definitely not for me, of course. He puts it all on the table and immediately after he places a plate with my eggs in it. My breakfast always contains of one egg and strong coffee. Bread – almost never.
As Jay sits in front of me, I let myself look deeply into his blue eyes. Soon I look away, thinking I’ll make him feel uncomfortable.
As I touch my cup of coffee, I realize it’s not even warm. The only thing I asked him for was hot coffee. I give a deep sigh and drink. Surprisingly I find out it is hot. It is perfect. Probably like most things Jay does. I see him looking at me. He frowns.
‘You look…’ he tries not to sound unfriendly, his voice – so soft.
‘Probably awful, I know.’ I sound rather angry.
He lifts up his eyebrows.
‘Nightmares…’ I answer his question before he asks it.
‘Ah…’ he smiles. Jay stands, leans on me and places a kiss on my cheekbone.
‘Poor thing! I knew something was wrong. You’re always happy and fresh in the mornings.’
The person he’s describing was himself, not me, but I don’t feel like arguing. It’s so strange I had bad dreams. I didn’t even watch horror movies before I went to bed. And that’s what I usually do. Because I am rather weird.
‘A-ha.’ I nod, not taking very much interest in what he tells me. Probably rude, I know. Not a great way to treat a boy, so wanted by everyone. Boys including, sometimes. What can I say, he was just handsome and we all noticed it.
The sun is already shining and the atmosphere doesn’t feel that unfriendly anymore. I bet it’s cold, but still, when it’s sunny I always feel happier.
Jay interrupts my thinking. I believe my thoughts weren’t that wise, anyway.
‘Did you hear the news about the terrorist attack? Ah, listen.’ He turns the volume up and I can now hear a woman talking although the TV was behind me. I don’t bother to turn around. As I listen, I understand that there was a terrorist bombing in Boston. Looks like the whole day will be quite horrible. Apparently it was a sports marathon. It must’ve been so crowded. Crowded. The word repeats and echoes deep inside of my mind. Sounds familiar.
‘There are many killed, too. And these who weren’t… Are basically dying. These psychos are everywhere!’ Jay hits the table. ‘Why would you kill or even injure so many innocent people, none of them who harmed you in any way?’ Jay usually doesn’t stop talking easily. You just have to let him he say what he has to say, pretending that you’re listening closely.
‘I know. So terrible.’ I answer in a robot-like way, still not taking any interest. My voice probably shows the fact that I actually don’t care. The news will probably upset my mom, too. And she’ll definitely give me a lecture or two. She’ll tell me to take care of myself more, that such a thing can happen to any of us. I’ll smile and tell her something like “Oh, I know, mom. Chill, mom.” And again, it will all fade away in the past; we’ll realize it wasn’t even that important or meaningful.
As I listen to the woman on the news, talking about the terrorist attack, giving us all the details, it hits me out of nowhere. I almost choke with my coffee.
‘It all makes sense now, doesn’t it? It’s all clear.’ a little voice in my head says.
I can now hear myself talking in hesitation and uncertainty. There’s a little note of fear, too.
‘Wait…’ I begin, looking right into Jay’s face, probably for the first time today.
‘The streets, so different from these, here in Seattle, the feeling I had, that I’m in a crowded place, the explosions… Boston. Hundreds of people. The bombing.’ I can’t stop talking, the words keep flowing. I notice that Jay’s mouth was wide opened; he was staring at me in disbelief, holding his half-eaten gross sandwich in his hand.
‘I think I might have…’ I say so quietly.
‘…Dreamt of the terrorist attack without knowing about it at all?’ He lowers his voice, something so not typical for him; he doesn’t sound happy anymore. When he says it that way, it sounds so… Weird. So hard to believe, though it isn’t easy for me to admit that.
‘Well… yeah.’ I respond, looking away from him as if I felt ashamed of what I had just said, uncomfortable, exposed and not sensible at all; my eyes glued to the floor again. I was trying so hard to accept these facts. It turns out that what I had just realized makes things worse, not more logical – just the opposite. How did this happen?
‘Whoa.’ is all that comes out of Jay’s mouth, his eyes still not moving from mine. In a moment, we just sit silent, looking at each other and just when I’m at the point of breaking that silence, he does it.
‘Well, Tate…’ I feel like it’s even hard for him to talk. My name spoken in this desperate way sounds like a lost prayer, like a symbol of hopelessness, even like a cry for help.
‘Maybe you heard it on the TV without really… You know, listening to it.’ He tries to find a possible explanation, I can feel it. But there is no explanation.
‘I haven’t watched any television yesterday; you know I was working on my essays all day, until about 1AM… You know that, Jay.’ I say, trying to sound calm and controlled, but failing. Apparently, now I have to convince him I’m not lying. Are you kidding me?
He now looks offended.
‘Well, maybe someone told you about it and you forgot or you just heard about it by chance, by accident, you know…’
‘No!’ I realize I’m shouting at him.
‘No…’ I say more quietly.
‘Okay, well, maybe…’ Jay tries for the last time to think of something logical, with his mouth full. I bet he’ll want a second sandwich. Stress makes people eat more.
I give a veeery deep sigh. He probably doesn’t believe me and I refuse to convince him I’m not lying. I can’t bother. It’s not worth the struggle. I guess I shouldn’t have told him in the first place.
He realizes I’m getting angry and sighs as well.
‘Look, I just don’t… Get you. I don’t follow.’
Sounded like he was giving up. He’s now irritating me. Very much, actually.
‘Whatever, I should go and dress up for work now. Bet I’ll be late… And I don’t want that, do I?’ I try to sound as confident as I can.
Jay shakes his head in response, looking rather dumb, as if he didn’t understand a word I said.
I drink the coffee that’s left fast, head for the bathroom and leave him alone in the kitchen, in his blank expression.
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