Can you see me in your dreams? | Teen Ink

Can you see me in your dreams?

March 20, 2011
By kag1787 GOLD, Granby, Connecticut
kag1787 GOLD, Granby, Connecticut
14 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
i'd rather be hated for who i am than loved for who i'm not- kurt cobain

these violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume -Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

Can you see me in your dreams? That’s what she always wanted to ask him, but she never got the chance. It was Friday. It was always Friday. There was rain and fog, and a sullen mist had settled upon the air. It was eerie, but soft. Like a dream.
As she walked down the street back home, a one of the lampposts flickered. Just once. It was always just once. She walked a little faster, because it was starting to get dark. The mist felt heavy on her skin as she waited at the corner. She didn’t see the car that was coming down the street. It was too fast. It was always too fast. The driver was busy thinking; it had been a long day. But not long enough, because that driver didn’t see the girl.
It was Friday, and he just wanted to go home. It was Friday, and she just wanted to go home. Never again will she see her mother. Or her father. Or the boy she loved. Can you see me in your dreams? The angel whispered at the doorstep; the threshold between life, and peaceful oblivion. Now, the mist had settled upon her hair. Like the angel’s tears as she watched her mother and father weep. Like the tears of her lover, who never got to tell her if he saw her in his dreams.
It was always Friday. Every single Friday, now he dreamed of his angel. His lonely angel, alone in Heaven. A victim of the twilight, not nearly done with life. And the soft mist that gathered on her shoulders. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to run and scream and find all the ways to bring her back. Bring back life, the impossible, the only thing that stood in his way. Between him and his dreams. He wanted to go to where she was. Where the streets don’t have names, and the lights don’t flicker, and nobody wants to go home. It was yesterday, it was tomorrow, it was forever, and it was Friday. Always Friday, always and forever.

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