Her Tragic Dream

Reads: 267  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Two girls have a intimate conversation about their personal dreams.

Submitted: August 09, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2012



Samantha Lee

Rose Lane

North Canton, OH





I was sitting on the back porch having a cigarette, taking a mental break from the party, thinking about everything and nothing. When I heard the sliding glass door open and close quietly, as if it were a secret it were being opened and closed, I looked over my shoulder and saw her stepping towards me to sit next to me. “Hey” she said. “Hey” I said. We sat in silence for a moment. She was the girl that everyone knew, but no one quite knew where, exactly, she came from. She was the mysterious hippie type with long flowing hair and gorgeous makeup that I always tried to copy but ended up removing most of it because I felt trampy, yet she never looked trampy, and I wondered how she was able to pull that off. She was the girl that everyone wanted to know and be around, yet still, we didn’t really know what she was about, “what is anyone about anyway” I wondered as I took a drag from my cigarette and glanced sideways at her, hoping she wouldn’t notice I was looking. I was trying to be very cool and nonchalant you see.

“It’s getting a bit wild in there eh?”

“Yeah, I just came out to get some air and smoke”

“Can I bum one off of you?”


I handed her one out of my pack, took another out for myself, we lit up and smoked in silence for a bit. I had a joint in my pack I had been thinking about for awhile, that’s actually why I came out but was just relaxing first, and while she was here I figured it would be polite to offer. “Wana smoke a bit with me?” I said as I lit it up,  which of course to which she replied, “absolutely” and for another moment we sat in silence inhaling and exhaling in a fog of calm. She then said to me, “what are you doing out heranyway?”  as I thought to myself , it’s only obvious, but simply said “Oh I was just thinking”, “about what” she said. “Dreams” I said. “Dreams?” “ well yeah, last night I had a dream that I ordered a pizza and ate the whole damn thing and was wondering how a person could dream about eating a freaking pizza, like who dreams about that ya know.”

She took the joint from my fingertips and took a deep inhale and said with exhale and smoke, “I had a dream last night too”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I had a dream my boyfriend and I were to be married and he was killed on the way to the wedding.”

I didn’t even know what to say, here is me, talking about fucking pizza and she’s talking about her boyfriend dying, I felt like a damned moron, just sitting there saying nothing and was wondering if she was going to change the subject, go inside or continue.

She continued on as I handed her another cigarette, lighting my own and passing her the lighter, I was curious yet delighted that she was divulging this dream of hers to me, rather than any of the million other friends she had to share this with, and she continued on inhaling and exhaling smoke with her words  “ it was like I was watching it from far away, in slow motion, like watching one of those old home movies with no sound where everyone looks so happy and smiling but you can’t hear anything. I saw myself in my dress with my veil flowing behind my hair outside the church waiting with my family and they came up and told me. He had been in an accident and was killed instantly. Everything suddenly stopped, the smiles fell and I sunk to the ground and even though I felt that I was watching an old home movie, I could feel my heart sink to the pit of my stomach and my world was over. Even though I was watching a movie, it was my movie and it felt as though it wasn’t real and I felt horror and dread and denial. I didn’t believe it was true. I felt that any moment he would come back to me, that at the very next moment he would walk through the door and would be there and it wouldn’t matter if we were ever married or not. I felt as if I had done this, I was the one who wanted to get married, not him. I was the one he had done this for and I was the one he had died for. He was coming for me, and he died because he was coming for me. I felt at that very moment a fear that I had never felt before in my life and even though it was fuzzy and hazy in the dream I truly felt it in my heart. I felt heartbreak that I had never known before. I felt like Richard Gere in “The Mothman Prophesies” when he said “It’s like, oh a happy couple, I’ve been waiting for you”. I woke up soaked in my own sweat and tears and he wasn’t next to me and I felt a feeling of panic and searched the room wildly with my eyes and found no solace until I heard the tv on downstairs that I knew I had turned off before I went to bed. I slowly went down the stairs and curled up next to him on the couch, even though I was cold, and lie there for awhile. I never told him about my dream. I was too afraid.”

I looked at her and could see, behind the fringe of her dark lashes the sparkle that everyone fell in love with that lie in her eyes, but beyond that I could see pure terror menacing beneath, yet I did not know the source, nor did she, I think.

“Dreams are crazy right?” she said and stood up and straitened her skirt and tossed her hair and said “thanks for the smoke, I’ll see ya in there eh.”

© Copyright 2019 samlee. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Flash Fiction Short Stories