Dreaming of Death

Last night I had a dream. It is probably one of the worst dreams I have ever had.

It started and I was driving. I was lost, and I was alone. I didn't know where I was going. Then it was black.

I saw myself from above, and I was floating away. Someone had hit me, and I had died. I watched as they pulled me from the car, and pulled the white sheet over my body. As the sheet covered my face, my sight went white. All I could see was white.

A lady appeared. She told me that I had died. She then asked me a question. "Is there anything you left on earth that you would like to bring with you?"

"What do you mean?"

She said, "Some people bring a childhood toy, others bring blankets, pictures, things with sentimental value. Would you like to bring anything with you that holds some kind of value?"

"Andrew. I need Andrew."

"We can't bring another person. We cannot kill another body. But you do have an option." She was patient and kind when she spoke these words, and I could see that she knew how I was feeling. 

"What are my options? I don't want to be here without him. I don't want to be without him..." I was crying. I didn't know I was crying, but I was.

"You can go down to earth, where you will stay while he lives the remainder of his life. When he moves on from the physically world, you will come with him. But there are consequences, and you need to make sure that you think this through before you make your decision."

"What consequences? I just want to be with him. That's what I want. That's all I want."

Everything went white again. And then I saw him.

I saw Andrew. He was there, and it was only him. Slowly, his surroundings became visible. We were in his room. He was crying. There was a picture of me held in his fist.

I wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. I put my hand on his, and he jerked away. He didn't know I was there. He couldn't feel me. 

I just wanted to hold him, to let him know that I was still there. Let him know that I loved him. 

As the days went on, I watched his heart begin to heal. When he would cry, I would cry. I didn't want to see him hurting. I began to get frustrated. I wanted to leave. I didn't want to see him hurt anymore.

"Please! Take me back! I can't watch this anymore!"

No answer. I began to cry out of frustration. The mirror in his room broke.

I had broken the barrier. 

I shaped the shattered glass into words I knew he would know as mine.

"Most Toast."

It was broken and shattered, but as he watched the shards of glass form those words, he knew. He knew I was there.

"I love you too..." He said these words in a whisper. He cried.

I woke up.