Midnight Requiem Chapter I &2

Prelude

My mom had once told me a prayer to say before I went to sleep every night. It stuck in my mind on account of the usual Catholic tactics - to scare the shit out of the youth. Actually, now that I think about it, something must have worked to get it locked in my memory all of these years. The prayer went something like this; “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” This simple prayer comforted me with the thought that my soul would be safe in the hands of God, but then I wondered… What if I died and God didn’t take me?

CHAPTER I

Clock Strikes Twelve (Future)

“When the lamb broke the seventh seal, there was silence throughout heaven for about half and hour.”

-Revelations 8:1


I can see myself, or at least the side of my face. I'm driving to an unknown destination. We just left the bowling alley for a quick game of pool, and to buy a pack of cigarrettes for Ashley. Ash ran into her ex boyfriend who happened to be bowling a game, so we all voted to leave.

Everything seems normal; the radio's playing, Ashley's wallowing in depression, streetlights and cars are passing us at forty miles an hour. Everything is normal except, the car isn't moving. It's like we're on one of those conveyer belts they have for lazy people at the airport. We aren't moving, but instead the world is moving around us. Something else is off to. Who am I? If I can see myself driving there must be someone else in the car I'm sharing views with.

My head tilts, causing me to realize what I already knew - that I have no control over the body I'm in. That's the one bad thing about dreams - you never understand the things that would be most obvious to you when you're awake. Yet, I still can't seem to figure out who I am. If only this mystery passenger can just speak one or two words I might be able to figure this out.

Something seems to real about this dream. My senses are working at full force, if not better than usual. I look over at myself driving and he looks back at me. His face is tired and nervous but he still manages a smile that makes my body tingle. He must sense that I feel uncomfortable so he opens my window for me. Wave after wave of cool summer's air glides over the surface of my face, reminding me of autumn nights in California. I look outside and catch that familiar aroma of rain that came and went not to long ago.

My head shifts again to the backseat, passing Ashley so I could talk to Brandon. He looks angry at something. I want to ask him what's wrong but I can't get any words out.

That new song from Unwritten Law just came on the radio. It catches my attention and I look toward the CD player. It reads "12:04". I can actually feel the words flowing through my head, "You can't save me, you can't change me", the words seem to be holding a significance that I can't describe. "Well I'm waiting for my wake-up call, and everything, everything's my fault." A car horn snaps me back into "reality" and I once again got a tingling feeling, but this one made me sick to my stomach.

Tires squeal, I swallow deeply and look one last time upon my real self. My head turns enough so that I can look through the windshield and see a very bright light come towards me with a blaring horn that won't shut up. The car comes to a sudden stop and that broken seat belt in my car rips. I only felt pain for the fraction of a second it took for my neck to snap on the windshield as I was ejected out.


I must have blacked out for a few seconds after the accident. My body looks fine as if I wasn't even in the car when the other driver hit us. The only concern of mine is to see who made it. My body runs over to the car, with each step causing my stomach to turn - not with physical pain, but with a sorrow which is indescribable. The feelings I had were heightened, so much so that if I weren't dreaming, I might have gone crazy from the despair.

Touching the hood of the car was the only way to tell me the damage done. I dared not open my eyes because the insanity would have been to much to take, even for a dream. The hood was smooth and undamaged from the left side of the vehicle, except for the broken glass from where I was thrown. As my hand moved up the hood I could feel the places where the metal had risen like a ripple in a pond. Tears were falling down my face now as my hand moved over a very large chunk of crushed metal.

As my hand lifted, I had no choice but to open my eyes. My eyes lift for all but two seconds, just long enough to reveal the drivers side of the car entirely crushed in. My real body lay somewhere under a few tons of metal from both cars. I fall to my knees crying, not because of the dead body thrown about in the car, but because my soul is nowhere to be found.

I realized who I am. It all makes so much sense - the bowling alley, the conversation at the coffee shop, it all makes sense! I'm the only person who could ever feel this way for me, I'm -

- awake... I'm awake in my bed, covered in sweat but colder than I've ever been. Why can't I remember? It's not fair- why can't I remember?


CHAPTER II

Morning (Present)

"Peter! Will you tell your damn friends to stop calling this early in the morning! What the hell is so important that you have to talk at 6:00 A.M.?!" My mother's words echoed in the bleak, dreary haze of the morning. My eyes hurt; a shear sign that they'll be red for the rest of the day, prompting everybody to think I've been up all night smoking pot and partying on a school day. Strange, I didn't even hear the phone ring...

"Hello?" I say into the reciever with a clear sign of longing for sleep.

"Jesus Peter, did I wake you up? Why the hell aren't you out of bed yet?" Of course it was Brandon. No doubt he did stay up all night smoking pot, except his eyes wouldn't be red at all, a sure sign of a veteran.

"Brandon... Listen closely. GO TO SLEEP! Man, I have to get up for school in half an hour and I need that little bit of sleep to get through first period."

"And I need sleep in first period to get through second and third." Brandon had a way of playing off my plight.

"Just let me go back to bed and I'll talk to you later." I spoke in monotone; to tired to care.

"Peter what are you dumb or something? Today is a staff inservice day, there is no school."

You ever have one of those feelings of unbelievable joy that you just feel like dancing around, Risky Business style? Any teenage kid knows that feeling when facing a three day weekend. I would have danced all morning, if the call of sleep wasn't tugging my drowsy head in the direction of the bed. Just two more... Four more hours and I'll be ready to attempt to get out of bed.