Träumer

It took an hour for the whole place to clear. She couldn't stand the sight of his blood draining everywhere for yet another hour. Still Emma wanted nothing more than for them to take him away, clean him up. If there was any inkling of earthly life left in him, let him be relaxed and pass on in comfort. She was more sad about that than the actual way he died and the death itself.

Emma had found a way to slip into the bushes past the rope the police had put up to keep people away. She had a good view of Bill and the EMT's and the police from where she was. She was small so it was easy to hide.

You might ask why she wanted to stay. Wouldn't she want to go home, cry it out alone?

Emma's thoughts were different. She wanted to stay close to anything she had left. Sure, they'd never really been together, but that night could have changed it all. Well in fact, it did change it all. It made her realize that falling for someone that turns out to be a fame-plagued superstar wasn't the best of scenarios.

So she waited until Bill's body was finally, carefully picked up and placed on a stretcher. For falling from that high up, his body wasn't that badly damaged. There was a small gash in his head, but most of the damage was on his side. It wasn't as if his guts were spilled everywhere, though.

She was thankful most of his wounds were internal. She tried to picture a funeral with that beautiful, torn up boy lying in a casket, his parents and brother and bandmates sobbing over him and how terrible he looked. A few tears came to her eyes as she pictured his mother, sobbing over her suicidal left-over parts of a son.

And where were they? Surely Tom and Gustav and Georg wouldn't be so heartless as to ignore the scene of his death. Why hadn't they come at all? Maybe it was too painful, maybe they just didn't know.. Maybe some people would say they were involved in his 'murder.' They would always turn back to that, wouldn't they? Try to turn the blame from the suicidal and onto the rest of the world for his death.

He was placed in the back of a truck, not an ambulance like Emma would have thought, and a very professional-looking doctor spoke to the police for quite some time. He looked confused and nervous at the same time. She could just tell that this wasn't your normal, everyday doctor. There was something mysterious about this man.

Emma unfortunately couldn't hear a word of the conversation.

When the doctor got into the truck, Emma knew she had to make her escape from behind the bushes if she was going to follow it. It was on impulse alone that she snuck around the back of the building and followed that truck as it slowly drove through the dark Berlin alleyways. She was fast and blended in well with the grimy streets so she could follow it well.

Emma couldn't think of a plausible idea why she was following a dead superstar to some secret location. Perhaps there were still reasons to keep hope alive? Oh that was silly. Her and Bill never would have been anyway. No way in hell. But still she followed.

The building was plain, unmarked. It looked like a mix between a storage unit and a warehouse, and it was in a part of the city that she'd never been to before. She hid, out of breath, by the side of the building as the truck entered the garage. A few moments later, she slid herself up to the window of the garage and watched as the doctor and a few assistants carefully carried Bill inside where Emma could no longer see.

Her heart was pounding. What if they were going to do bad things to him? Would his parents get to see their dead son or would his death be lost in a cloud of confusion and blame?

She hurried to the front of the building, where there was a door and a small sign that read, "Dr. Benson, Morguetition."

Well, then she had nothing to fear, right? They were just going to fix him up quietly, where no one could find him. They would keep this all secretive. The press would never be able to find the place. For once, in death, Bill was free.

But somehow this clarity wasn't enough. This wasn't the closure she needed. Sure, Bill was dead but it just wasn't enough! She needed to say goodbye to something she never had.

She knew she was crazy as she started to pound on the door. Would the doctor think she was some crazy fan? Would he call the police? She always thought of the worst.

After a few minutes, the half-confused, half-nervous doctor opened the door. Dr. Benson. He had a stern look on his face but Emma knew that if she pleaded her case, he'd let her in.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be here," she didn't give him time to stop her, "and you might thing I'm just some terrible fan but I'm not. I'm Bill's girlfriend and I can swear that on my life. I didn't see him before this happened and I only caught a glimpse of him from the crowd when he was dead," she burst out in tears. "I really need to see him before you cut him up or burn him or.." she sobbed into her hands and the doctor put an arm on her shoulder.

"Come in," he said quietly and reassuringly as he pulled her into the building.

She wiped away her tears and looked at her surroundings. The inside of the place wasn't as terrible and gloomy as the outside. There were a few desks and office areas and then a waiting area with a nice comfy-looking couch. That's what she needed; some sleep.

"You want to see him?" he asked.

She nodded and he led her through a door and into the place where the actual work was done. The room was frightening. Everything was overly-white and there was an overpowering smell of cleaning chemicals. There were white curtains and white tables and white jars and scary tools all over the white countertops.

"Don't be afraid," the doctor said, seeing Emma's distressful look. He wasn't all that bad. She trusted him already.

He led her past a drawn curtain and there he lay, peaceful and bloody and godly. He still had his clothes on but his shirt and jacket were covered in blood. There was that gash in his head slightly above his left eyebrow. He looked cold.. and dead. But yet his makeup was still perfect. His lips were set in a sad pout. She would have done anything to see those chocolate pools of his eyes once more but she was afraid to touch him.

"You would know his body better than I. Do you want to remove his clothes without damaging him further?" the doctor asked.

She shook her head, tears coming to her eyes again. "I.. I can't."

So she turned away for a few minutes as some assistants cut the skin-tight clothes from his body. If nothing more, clothes like that are good for keeping your organs from falling everywhere. You have to admit, that's kind of funny.

She turned back, never thinking this was how she would see him naked for the first time, and held her breath. His clothes were just shreds of fabric on the table, on the floor. His hair was matted and bloody, the white dreads now a dismal red.

Emma went as close to him as she could and just looked at him, at this tragedy before her. She silently wondered how in the world could this have happened. Hours before he'd been smiling and laughing and truthfully happy. Or was he just that good at acting?

Emma started to believe it was something she had done or said. Had he killed himself because he didn't want to spend the night with her? Surely that couldn't be right! She knew she had to be overthinking that. He had displayed true feelings for her!

She was just about to grab for his cold, lifeless hand when the doctor asked, "I know this may be a hard time for you, but do you have any idea how this could have happened?"

She thought for a few minutes, going over every possible idea in her mind. But none of them seemed to make sense. They'd even just won the award for the third year in a row. Why stop a good thing?! At the afterparty he'd been so happy. How could that have changed in such a short amount of time?

"I don't know," she replied half-heartedly.

"You said you were with him.." he said.

She nodded. "Before the awards and at the afterparty."

"Was there anyone there that you might have noticed that had something out for Bill?"

Her eyes burned. Not this. "No. This wasn't a murder. He jumped from the goddamn roof. The media may make this a murder and make him some sort of martyr, but all the evidence clearly points to the fact that he jumped."

"But no one actually saw him jump."

"But no one would want to push him!" she cried. She couldn't tell him that Bill was an angel. No one would possibly be out to kill someone so precious even for jealousy or money or anything.

He continued questioning her and the questions started to become deep. They were about the supposed relationship Emma had said they were in. I don't want to get caught further in the lie, she thought.

Thankfully, she didn't have to talk about those uncomfortable things much longer. Oddly enough, Emma and the doctor began to hear strange noises, almost like a gurgle or a groan. She looked around, knowing that the doctor had sent all the assistants away after they'd cut away his clothes.

"Did you hear that?" she asked just as the doctor's glance shifted to Bill on the table. Movement? How silly was..

Emma turned to look at the table too and ran over as Bill's eyes flew open. He gasped for breath like a fish out of water and sat up like he had no notion of his surroundings. Instantly, he began to cry. Tears of confusion, happiness, pain, a mixture of the three. Emma screamed as his body seemingly began to heal in front of her eyes, like a regenerate.

What the hell have I gotten into?!