Paint My Skies Black, I Never Wanna See The Sun Again

Someone knocked on the other side of the hotel door but Sunday didn’t hear it since she was listening to her iPod on full blast. After about the seventh knock, the housekeeper assumed that those who were out and the room was safe to enter and clean.

Too bad the seventh knock was the same knock that Sunny had heard and had gotten up to answer. Her hand was a few mere millimetres away from the doorknob when it swung open fast and wide enough in attempt to make enough room for the toiletries cart.

It hit Sunday’s forehead with just enough force to send her flying backwards and unconscious.

...

“Is she waking up yet?” a familiar voice asked from a few feet away.

“I don’t know – Oh look! Look! She’s stirring!” another voice reported.

Her eyes were still closed, but she was definitely conscious. Sunday registered the sounds, voices, and her surroundings by feel. She was on something soft, no longer the ground. Perhaps they picked her up and lain her on the bed.

There was an All Time Low CD playing softly in the background – she’d know the sound anywhere, but she hadn’t been listening to it before, and the guys weren’t really the type to just put on their own music. There were humble about things like that.

The last thing was the voices: there was something a little off about them, and she did not hear Alex’s voice except for the one on the CD.

Something was not right.

Sunday took a risk and her eyes fluttered open. She gasped, “What the hell?”

Instead of the hotel room, or even a hospital, she was back in her house, lying on her own couch. Turning her head to the left, she was even more surprised at what she saw: her mother, Lynne, and a bulky man in a paramedic’s uniform.

Her mom was speaking with the paramedic and Lynne jumped at her, wrapping her arms around her best friend enthusiastically. Sunday hugged her back, somewhat weirded out by the situation as she listened in on the conversation.

“Well it looks like she hasn’t suffered and major head or internal injuries, but I’d advise you to wake her up every two hours in case of a concussion. Worst-case scenario, call or bring her to the hospital.”

Her mother nodded wordlessly.

Sunday shifted her attention back to Lynne who was still rambling on about how she thought she’s lost her forever, oblivious to the fact that she hadn’t been listening.

“What am I doing here?” she suddenly asked, cutting Lynne off.

“What do you mean?” Lynne answered with a question of her own.

“I mean, where’s Alex and Jack and the rest of the guys? What about Kara? The hotel? How’d I end up here? I’m supposed to be in Vegas.”

Lynne, her mother, and the paramedic all looked at her as though she had three heads and just urped the Greek alphabet with her ear. When they didn’t answer her, she said, “What?”

“Don’t worry, she’ll be alright,” her mom excused the medic.

Good ‘ole mom; back to her old ways. Sunday thought. It was like they never had a heart-to-heart.

Once the paramedic left, her mom threw her a quizzical look, “Sunday,” she started with the utmost formality in her voice – much too formal to be speaking with your own daughter, at least – “It’s Friday. When I came home and opened the door, it appears as though you were on the other side and it hit you.”

“Wait – what?” Really? Where’s Alex?” Are you guys playing a trick on me, because this is so not funny.”

“Alright, who is this Alex that you speak of? I already don’t like this boy.”

“I don’t care. I love him,” she muttered defiantly.

“Oh, who’s this Alex guy?” Lynne asked, searching for more juicy details.

“Don’t act like you don’t know Lynny. Gaskarth.”

Her friend’s expression turned blank, “Do you think I’m stupid, Sunny? You can’t love him just because you really like their music. Plus, Gaskarth’s in Vegas. With the rest of All Time Low. They’re appearing on Kimmel tonight. That’s why I’m here. We were gonna watch it remember?”

“No they’re not. They already were on Kimmel. Last night ; I was there.”

“Uh, no you weren’t, and they didn’t. Yesterday you were at school. Graduation’s this week.”

“What?” That was when she glanced down at her clothes for the first time. White skinnys with paint splatters, a black tank top, layered necklaces and her fluffy toe socks – the exact outfit she was wearing the day she met them.

Sunday dug through the mass of necklaces on her chest – not a sign of Alex’s gift. She hadn’t taken that off since the moment he gave it to her.

That meant – it never happened.

She was knocked unconscious and dreamt.

She dreamt the whole thing.

Sunday exploded into tears. An inexplicable mass of hysterics that could not – would not – be held back.

She had never thought about it before, but it truly was possible to get your heart broken by something you never had, and learn the true meaning of ‘IN YOUR DREAMS’.