My Nightmare
Longer version I just wrote
Slowly but surely, the cigarette fell from the ashtray where it had been laying there. Unaware it was still burning; the woman and man who had lit it went off to bed. The ashtray lay beside the windows, where the curtains were. It fell on the ground, slowly lighting the carpet on fire. The flames licked their way up the carpet, and onto the curtains adorning the windows. It takes awhile for the flames to spread to the walls, and the rest of the house. Suddenly, a piercing alarm goes through the house, alarming the owners of the fire. The alarm was so loud the neighbors heard it. They looked outside, and saw the fire ablaze and called the firefighters.
The sound of sirens was soon in the air. I awoke hearing them. I gasped and suddenly knew breathing in hadn’t of been the best idea, because it had sent me into a coughing fit. I looked around, my eyes burning from all the smoke in the air. Billy had been shaking me away. Dazed, I asked between bouts of coughing, “What happened?” He shook his head and said, “A fire started.” He got up and went towards the window and opened it. He told me to climb through and that he would be there shortly. He told me he was going to go get our stuff out of the safe.
I went and crawled out of the window, kissing him one last time and whispered, “Be safe. I love you.” I jumped, and was surprised to feel someone catch me. I looked up and saw a young firefighter. He nodded and said, “Ma’am.” He set me down on my feet. I told him what Billy was doing, and he shook his head. I looked around, my green eyes bright and watery from the smoke. I then asked, “What’re you going to do?” He looked down at me, eyebrows raised and said, “Go after him, what do you think?” He nodded a nearby firefighter and told him to come with him.
I waited to see what would happen, and saw them carrying a body out. My stomach did a flip. I didn’t see Billy moving and a thought popped into my head. I shook my head, and smiled. He was okay. He was okay. That was, until one of them set him down and came over to me looking sympathetic. “No…” I whispered. I shook my head, tears swimming my vision. “NO!!!!” The scream escaped my lips, sending jolts through my body at the ferocity it owned. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. I ran over to Billy, stumbling along as I did. I pushed through the firefighters and reached my husband.
I saw him on the ground blackened from the smoke, and eyes closed. “No...” A sob came from my lips before I could stop it. I reached down and brought him into my arms. I soon began to cry. My heart hurt. I grabbed at him and rocked him in my arms. The tears tracked down my face in a matter of seconds. “NO!” I yelled again and held him kissing his face. “No.” I said over and over again, trying to make myself believe it wasn’t true. “Why?” I asked, trying to speak clearly, but a sob getting in the way of my speech. I held onto him crying.
I held onto him like that for hours. Finally, the people from the morgue came to take his body. I stared at him body tears falling from my pale green eyes. I hugged my small frame. I stared as they took his body away on a gurney. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see who was touching me. I looked up into the caring eyes of my father. He looked at me worriedly and whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” My eyes began to well up again, making it impossible for me to see. I then said something I hadn’t said in a long time, “Daddy!” I said and was pulled into his arms. I cried into his chest, looking like I was about to fall apart.
I leaned on his heavily, my arms around him as I cried into him. The sobs racked my body. I went to take a breath in as knew as soon as I did that all I smelled was smoke. The smell was wood burning, the smell you smelled when you smell a bonfire, except this one smelled more malicious. I shook my head and held onto my father. Soon, I was all out of tears, and I knew if I kept crying I would make myself sick.
We eventually got to my parents house. I was up all night. I couldn’t sleep. We got a call in the morning from someone asking when I wanted the funeral and visitation to be. I told them Wednesday and Thursday. They asked how I wanted it. I told them to just plan it anyway they wanted. I told them his favorite songs. They told me they were sorry for my loss, and they would plan it. I told them the times. Tomorrow would be his visitation, and then Thursday would be his funeral. I sighed. I rubbed my eyes. They were red still. I curled up on the couch and stared away into space.
I pulled on Billy’s favorite dress of mine. It was a white strapless with a black belt wrapped around it. Good thing I had left it at my parents. I pulled on my converse, the only shoes I owned, and looked at myself in the mirror. I applied my makeup to my reddened eyes. I pinched my cheeks to add color to my pale face. I sighed. I looked horrid. I brushed back my pretty auburn hair. I wasn’t that tall, but I wasn’t just plain dwarf height either. I was five foot five. I’m not that short. Not tall, but not short.
I got into the car, and let my parents drive us to the funeral home. Once there, I stepped out from the vehicle and sighed seeing all those faces pitying me. I avoided all eye contact that I possibly could. I looked at his body and felt a single tear drop fall. It rolled down my right cheek and onto my chin before plopping right smack in the middle of his forehead. I leaned down, hearing everyone holding their breath. I pressed my lips against his forehead and whispered, “I love you, and always will.”
I then pulled away and turned away from him saying my last goodbye. I put the rose I had gotten right down where his hands were. I went to a couch and sat down. I stared ahead in the air, waiting for someone to ask me something. I got hugs here and there, and got told sympathetic things, that I didn’t need. I just nodded, staring right through them. I didn’t really hear them. I wasn’t paying attention. I was in my own world.
After two hours, the visitation was over. I walked out with my parents, and got into their car. They dropped me off at the apartment they had gotten for me. I kissed them each on the cheek, and gave a small smile, before waving goodbye. I closed the door, and the smile fell almost immediately. I walked sullenly, not bothering to strip from the dress. I kicked my shoes off then fell onto the couch. I curled up into a ball, hugging myself.
After awhile, I got up to take a bath. I drew the water. I watched as the bath tub filled up with the clear water. I climbed into the water after it filled the tub. I set myself down in the water. I looked out the window. I had a window on my left, and then mirrors on the walls. I looked at myself in the mirrors. I looked pale, and broken. My eyes were swollen, and red from not sleeping and from crying.
I lowered myself, so I was on my back. I kept my head above water and looked up at the ceiling. I felt the same empty feeling in my chest. I wanted to feel alive again. Billy wouldn’t want me feeling like this. I noticed a razor on the edge of the bath tub. I grabbed it, my heart thudding dangerously loud in my chest. I was afraid that someone would hear it. I looked down at my wrist, and then back at my wrist. I took a deep breath, and then dug deep into my skin with the razor and sliced my wrist. I winced feeling it, and then realized I had felt it!
I sliced again and again, sudden tears falling from my eyes. I quit after awhile and cried. I stayed like that for awhile. I then got out and got some clothes on. I stayed up all night. The next day, I got some clothes on, and headed to the funeral home. I stayed through the service, and when they took his coffin out, and carried him outside to the hearse, I went with my parents. I went with them to the funeral site.
Once there, I watched as the preacher said some more words, and then they started to lower my Billy into the ground. Oh, my sweet Billy. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I gasped out breath, and leaned into my dad. I felt his arm go around me, as if to hold me up. I stayed for a long while, staring at his grave. I then went with my parents and they took me to my apartment.
It had been a few weeks, I had gotten sleep here and there. It was midday Thursday, when my mother called me. I answered it. I heard her crying, and felt my chest contract. I heard her tell me, that my father had had a heart attack and that he was gone. I dropped the phone. I quickly snatched it up off the floor and told her, I had to go. I looked at myself in the mirror in the bathroom. I hit it with my fist, tears streaming down my face. I hit it again, sinking to the floor sobbing. I saw the razor, and shook my head. I grabbed sleeping pills and swallowed the whole bottle. I then climbed to the roof. I was consumed by grief, I wasn’t thinking properly at all. I looked down the edge, once on the roof.
I looked down, seeing all the people beneath me. It was a long ways down, wasn’t it? I didn’t care. I just wanted my family back. I held myself crying. I screamed at the sky. After a few minutes of crying, I stepped back. I then went all the way to the other side. I turned back around to face the other side of the building. I braced myself, and then propelled myself forwards. I kept running, until I had leaped off the edge of the building. I had tears running down my face, mocking my misery. I stared down at the ground as it came hurtling towards me as I fell. I closed my eyes, and hit the ground.
I screamed awaking from my horrible slumber. I kicked around and screamed again. I was suddenly pulled into the arms of my husband. I looked up at Billy and burst into tears. I sobbed into his chest and told him all about it. He shushed me and told me he was here, and that my father was alright. He rocked me, telling me none of it had happened. It wasn’t real. I sobbed against him, more from relief than anything. I don’t know what would’ve happened if that had been real. Wait, yes I do. I would’ve been dead. I held onto him, happy it wasn’t real. I then mumbled, “That was my nightmare.”
The sound of sirens was soon in the air. I awoke hearing them. I gasped and suddenly knew breathing in hadn’t of been the best idea, because it had sent me into a coughing fit. I looked around, my eyes burning from all the smoke in the air. Billy had been shaking me away. Dazed, I asked between bouts of coughing, “What happened?” He shook his head and said, “A fire started.” He got up and went towards the window and opened it. He told me to climb through and that he would be there shortly. He told me he was going to go get our stuff out of the safe.
I went and crawled out of the window, kissing him one last time and whispered, “Be safe. I love you.” I jumped, and was surprised to feel someone catch me. I looked up and saw a young firefighter. He nodded and said, “Ma’am.” He set me down on my feet. I told him what Billy was doing, and he shook his head. I looked around, my green eyes bright and watery from the smoke. I then asked, “What’re you going to do?” He looked down at me, eyebrows raised and said, “Go after him, what do you think?” He nodded a nearby firefighter and told him to come with him.
I waited to see what would happen, and saw them carrying a body out. My stomach did a flip. I didn’t see Billy moving and a thought popped into my head. I shook my head, and smiled. He was okay. He was okay. That was, until one of them set him down and came over to me looking sympathetic. “No…” I whispered. I shook my head, tears swimming my vision. “NO!!!!” The scream escaped my lips, sending jolts through my body at the ferocity it owned. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. I ran over to Billy, stumbling along as I did. I pushed through the firefighters and reached my husband.
I saw him on the ground blackened from the smoke, and eyes closed. “No...” A sob came from my lips before I could stop it. I reached down and brought him into my arms. I soon began to cry. My heart hurt. I grabbed at him and rocked him in my arms. The tears tracked down my face in a matter of seconds. “NO!” I yelled again and held him kissing his face. “No.” I said over and over again, trying to make myself believe it wasn’t true. “Why?” I asked, trying to speak clearly, but a sob getting in the way of my speech. I held onto him crying.
I held onto him like that for hours. Finally, the people from the morgue came to take his body. I stared at him body tears falling from my pale green eyes. I hugged my small frame. I stared as they took his body away on a gurney. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see who was touching me. I looked up into the caring eyes of my father. He looked at me worriedly and whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” My eyes began to well up again, making it impossible for me to see. I then said something I hadn’t said in a long time, “Daddy!” I said and was pulled into his arms. I cried into his chest, looking like I was about to fall apart.
I leaned on his heavily, my arms around him as I cried into him. The sobs racked my body. I went to take a breath in as knew as soon as I did that all I smelled was smoke. The smell was wood burning, the smell you smelled when you smell a bonfire, except this one smelled more malicious. I shook my head and held onto my father. Soon, I was all out of tears, and I knew if I kept crying I would make myself sick.
We eventually got to my parents house. I was up all night. I couldn’t sleep. We got a call in the morning from someone asking when I wanted the funeral and visitation to be. I told them Wednesday and Thursday. They asked how I wanted it. I told them to just plan it anyway they wanted. I told them his favorite songs. They told me they were sorry for my loss, and they would plan it. I told them the times. Tomorrow would be his visitation, and then Thursday would be his funeral. I sighed. I rubbed my eyes. They were red still. I curled up on the couch and stared away into space.
I pulled on Billy’s favorite dress of mine. It was a white strapless with a black belt wrapped around it. Good thing I had left it at my parents. I pulled on my converse, the only shoes I owned, and looked at myself in the mirror. I applied my makeup to my reddened eyes. I pinched my cheeks to add color to my pale face. I sighed. I looked horrid. I brushed back my pretty auburn hair. I wasn’t that tall, but I wasn’t just plain dwarf height either. I was five foot five. I’m not that short. Not tall, but not short.
I got into the car, and let my parents drive us to the funeral home. Once there, I stepped out from the vehicle and sighed seeing all those faces pitying me. I avoided all eye contact that I possibly could. I looked at his body and felt a single tear drop fall. It rolled down my right cheek and onto my chin before plopping right smack in the middle of his forehead. I leaned down, hearing everyone holding their breath. I pressed my lips against his forehead and whispered, “I love you, and always will.”
I then pulled away and turned away from him saying my last goodbye. I put the rose I had gotten right down where his hands were. I went to a couch and sat down. I stared ahead in the air, waiting for someone to ask me something. I got hugs here and there, and got told sympathetic things, that I didn’t need. I just nodded, staring right through them. I didn’t really hear them. I wasn’t paying attention. I was in my own world.
After two hours, the visitation was over. I walked out with my parents, and got into their car. They dropped me off at the apartment they had gotten for me. I kissed them each on the cheek, and gave a small smile, before waving goodbye. I closed the door, and the smile fell almost immediately. I walked sullenly, not bothering to strip from the dress. I kicked my shoes off then fell onto the couch. I curled up into a ball, hugging myself.
After awhile, I got up to take a bath. I drew the water. I watched as the bath tub filled up with the clear water. I climbed into the water after it filled the tub. I set myself down in the water. I looked out the window. I had a window on my left, and then mirrors on the walls. I looked at myself in the mirrors. I looked pale, and broken. My eyes were swollen, and red from not sleeping and from crying.
I lowered myself, so I was on my back. I kept my head above water and looked up at the ceiling. I felt the same empty feeling in my chest. I wanted to feel alive again. Billy wouldn’t want me feeling like this. I noticed a razor on the edge of the bath tub. I grabbed it, my heart thudding dangerously loud in my chest. I was afraid that someone would hear it. I looked down at my wrist, and then back at my wrist. I took a deep breath, and then dug deep into my skin with the razor and sliced my wrist. I winced feeling it, and then realized I had felt it!
I sliced again and again, sudden tears falling from my eyes. I quit after awhile and cried. I stayed like that for awhile. I then got out and got some clothes on. I stayed up all night. The next day, I got some clothes on, and headed to the funeral home. I stayed through the service, and when they took his coffin out, and carried him outside to the hearse, I went with my parents. I went with them to the funeral site.
Once there, I watched as the preacher said some more words, and then they started to lower my Billy into the ground. Oh, my sweet Billy. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I gasped out breath, and leaned into my dad. I felt his arm go around me, as if to hold me up. I stayed for a long while, staring at his grave. I then went with my parents and they took me to my apartment.
It had been a few weeks, I had gotten sleep here and there. It was midday Thursday, when my mother called me. I answered it. I heard her crying, and felt my chest contract. I heard her tell me, that my father had had a heart attack and that he was gone. I dropped the phone. I quickly snatched it up off the floor and told her, I had to go. I looked at myself in the mirror in the bathroom. I hit it with my fist, tears streaming down my face. I hit it again, sinking to the floor sobbing. I saw the razor, and shook my head. I grabbed sleeping pills and swallowed the whole bottle. I then climbed to the roof. I was consumed by grief, I wasn’t thinking properly at all. I looked down the edge, once on the roof.
I looked down, seeing all the people beneath me. It was a long ways down, wasn’t it? I didn’t care. I just wanted my family back. I held myself crying. I screamed at the sky. After a few minutes of crying, I stepped back. I then went all the way to the other side. I turned back around to face the other side of the building. I braced myself, and then propelled myself forwards. I kept running, until I had leaped off the edge of the building. I had tears running down my face, mocking my misery. I stared down at the ground as it came hurtling towards me as I fell. I closed my eyes, and hit the ground.
I screamed awaking from my horrible slumber. I kicked around and screamed again. I was suddenly pulled into the arms of my husband. I looked up at Billy and burst into tears. I sobbed into his chest and told him all about it. He shushed me and told me he was here, and that my father was alright. He rocked me, telling me none of it had happened. It wasn’t real. I sobbed against him, more from relief than anything. I don’t know what would’ve happened if that had been real. Wait, yes I do. I would’ve been dead. I held onto him, happy it wasn’t real. I then mumbled, “That was my nightmare.”
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This version is the one I just rewrote. Since the other was for school, I decided to rewrite it any way I wanted to. Enjoy!!