Make a Mess of All the Plans We Made

"I would rather die than be with you any longer than I have to. Mikey, I don't love y-"

Mikey pulled the trigger.

Frank screamed out in pain as the bullet entered his shoulder.

"Oh...god... Frank... I..."

"You missed!"

"I didn't mean to-"

"Miss?"

"I didn't want to-"

"Miss?"

"I just..."

Mikey pulled the trigger again.

Frank sat up, his whole body shook violently at the memory of the dream. Why did it have to replay in his mind over and over?
He'd lived through it once, why can't it go away?

Frank threw the white, stiff sheets off of his bed and swung his legs over the side. The floor was icy beneath his bare feet as he shuffled over to the bag with his street clothes in it. He checked around for any nurses before quickly changing.
He needed out, and he needed out now.

Frank did a quick check of the hallways before sprinting down the silent white halls.