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Life imitates dreams, far more than dreams imitate life.

Short story By: ToniTaylor


Submitted:Jul 12, 2011    Reads: 89    Comments: 7    Likes: 3   

...I don't remember how it happened, or how we even met, or why we met; we just did. Something in him made me love who he is. And because of that 'something', I left home three years ago, I don't regret it. My parents never approved of my relationship with him. However, I loved him unconditionally.


‚ÄčAt that time we were 'living' in a cheap hotel; his parents didn't like me either.
I can recall one specific moment which is stuck in my mind ever since... Once, we were in my school's bathroom, I believe, I do not remember why...
He was kissing me, rather playfully, but I didn't want to kiss him back, I was trying to piss him off slightly. I remember him saying,
"I'll continue to kiss you, until you kiss me back." And when I finally wanted to, Daven turned his head around. That was one of our daily "games". Like if I was sick, and I didn't rest, he'd refuse to hug me until I do, and would not hug me for 5 days after... well, his plans always failed. All I know is that it was impossible for us to get bored of each other.
I remember him telling me that he wanted to find a new job, since his old one wasn't playing enough. I told him that I'm okay with it. He then sticked his tongue out, refusing to say anything, or to receive a kiss. So I just placed a kiss on his nose. We soon had to go, Daven for his job interview, and I to my class... Actually, this wasn't too long ago.


Suddenly I started feeling really sleepy, although it was only 7PM, it was probably because I didn't sleep last night. I went to bed. Daven wasn't here yet, hefinishes work around 9PM.. or even 11PM. For some reason, he didn't like talking about his work. However, I soon fell asleep.


Some noise awakened me, I didn't even know what the time was; I was feeling strange but I didn't know why. I stood up a bit, so I was sitting in bed, instead of lying. Finally opened my eyes. I saw Daven, with blood dripping of his face, and bloody stains on his shirt; his clothes were covered in dust, and his knuckles covered in blood. I couldn't make a noise, just stood there half lying, half sitting in the hotel room's bed. I was thinking how different he is: how caring and fun he is with me, and how outrageous he can really be. He always got into fights, but it was never this serious... Daven couldn't stand on his feet, he was just leaning against the door; couldn't even keep his eyes open. He still didn't notice I was looking at him. I finally saw he's trying to go carefully in the bathroom, and I realized how he literally couldn't walk... I could feel a piece of my heart break. If all of that blood wasn't on him, someone would think he's just terribly drunk, or high. But I knew he wasn't. I followed him to the bathroom, and stopped by the door. Daven was washing his face and hands, then took some knife out of his pocket and washed that as well. My heart started racing. I said something that was supposed to sound like "What happened?". But instead it came out as "I... don't care what you did... I don't wanna know. Just tell me you're okay... please just tell me you're okay!" My voice was shaking more than ever. Daven was looking at me surprised. He came closer, and looked at my worried face... which, I was trying to hide behind an anger mask... I failed. Daven embraced me tightly, kissed my forehead and said "Don't worry." I wanted to push him away, so I started yelling at him, but instead of backing off he pulled me closer, putted his hand slightly over my mouth and simply said, "I'll explain everything, love, I promise. But don't worry, and leave me alone for a while." Of course, I'd never do that, even if he was holding a gun to my head. I simply replied "Get out of the bathroom, and go sit somewhere. I'll help you, you can't even keep your eyes open properly." He let go of me, and turned around so I wasn't able to see his face. Daven tried to say something, but I interrupted, "And get that soaked-in-blood shirt off!". He walked out without saying anything. I washed the sink of all of that blood. I noticed that the knife was still in here, but that didn't bother me. I got all of the things I'd need to disinfect his scratches, and headed out to the bedroom. The hotel only had a bathroom, and a little bit bigger room where our 'bedroom' was; with a desk on the opposite side of where the bed was placed, and a table beside the bed.


I walked in, Daven was sitting on the edge of the bed, still in that shirt, it seemed like there's more blood on it that before. He instantly got up; took the band-aids and the alcohol, with which I was planning to disinfect his scratches, out of my hands, threw them on the bed and locked my hands in his. Daven pulled me closer to him once again, only that this time it was a bit harsher, and said "I don't think you'll be okay with seeing and trying to heal, or whatever, my... let's say... scratches. I know you can, but I'm not letting you do it. We both know you wouldn't let me go out for a month at least, if you saw my scratches..." He stopped talking, as if he was waiting for me to say something, but I was just staring into his blurry, but still gorgeous baby-blue eyes. So he continued, "And we both know that it's like I can never say "No" to you, I'd do whatever you tell me to..." I didn't let him finish; interrupted him by simply saying "...'Cause I obviously worry about your health more than you do yourself." Daven replied with "Probably...", hugged me once more, and whispered "But no one worries about your health more than me, I'd even become a doctor if needed." I laughed and hugged him tightly, even tighter than before. Daven tried to say something, but it sounded more like a sigh. I realized that it might be that scratch, that was probably still bleeding a little. I didn't wait a second longer, backed off, and pulled his shirt off carefully. Of course he tried to stop me, but that didn't matter. I was... shocked... Daven asked "Well, do you like the sight of this?" I replied with another question, "How do you even managed to get hurt so badly?!", we were still standing up, until now; I felt like I need to sit. He sat next to me and started explaining, "I got in a fight... My new job, which I didn't wanna talk about,... no no, I don't sell drugs! I work for this guy, and this other guy owed him money, so all I did was to get the money for my boss. And I...-"
"Did you kill someone?" I asked straightforward.
"No, I didn't even hurt anyone badly. I just got slightly hurt... Plus, we needed money."
"I know this." I said, rather angrily.
"I love you." Daven said.
"Too bad you'll feel pain when you hug me... with that huge, deep "scratch" across your chest."
"Yeah, but it'd be worth it."
"You know there are hospitals..., and such, right?" I playfully asked.
"Oh, very funny, jokester." I said.
"Hilarious, I know." Daven sarcastically replied.
I carefully kissed beside his swollen lower lip.

I know we needed money to pay for the hotel, and my university. Well, I don't think I'll continue studying, I'm not giving 4000$ for tuition. However, he let me cleanse that huge scratch. I then asked randomly,
"What's the time?" I really didn't have any idea.
"Around 4AM" Daven replied.
"Hey, are you hungry?" I asked again.
"Haha, no." He said.
We finally curled up in bed.

Me and him talked for quite a while, even though I had classes in the morning, but I didn't bother thinking about that; Daven probably wasn't going to go to "work"... I guess tomorrow will be one of those lazy days of ours, or should I say "today", since it was most likely already 6AM.
Although, we continued talking. Daven started singing some love song quietly.
"You're a bad singer. But I still love you, and you should know that." I was quite sure, that this was the most honest thing I've ever said.


Suddenly, she woke up... she looked around, to just find out that it was only a dream.
You could clearly see the loneliness in her eyes. As soon as she got out of bed, she grabbed a pen and some notebook.
It seemed that she wanted to write that dream down, no matter how painful the memory of it will be...
She started writing something, and stopped as she finished that one sentence.
Her deep brown eyes got watery. Soon the tears were sliding down her cheeks: they seemed like they'd never end, and despite of the fact the only sound she could hear was her tears falling onto the paper sheet, there was something beautiful about them. If you had the chance to look at her long enough, you'd compare that sight to a waterfall: beautiful, but so alone - even if there was someone next to her, it'd be impossible to get close enough to make her feel less lonely; and the tears running down her eyes looked as endless as the water of a waterfall.

"I love you, and your baby-blue eyes; I just wish you were right here, right now."


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