Little Deaths (Joey)
Joey opens his eyes as he bites back a scream. One word resounds in his head...Justin! The shark, the blood...Oh God, he has just watched Justin die! He looks around frantically, still expecting to see the expanse of the ocean before him but instead he finds nothing more than the familiar outlines of his bunk and the one above him. He sits up quickly and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness while he feels what is around him. A mattress, sheets, his pillow. Everything exactly as it was before he went to sleep. He sighs in relief as he realizes that the horrid scenes he has just witnessed have all been nothing but a nightmare. Granted, one of the worst nightmares he has ever had; but a nightmare nonetheless.
He wills his heart rate and his breathing to slow down as he rises from his bunk on slightly shaky legs. In normal circumstances he would just go back to sleep after a nightmare, but not tonight. Tonight he feels an overwhelming need to check on his friends, to maybe even wake them and share with them the details of the horror show he has just experienced. He reaches Justin's bunk first and touches the sheets gingerly. He whispers his friend's name as he moves his hand around the bunk; feeling...searching.
Justin is not there.
A small tendril of fear snakes across his heart at the realization that his friend does not occupy the bunk. He reaches up to the bunk above Justin's; JC's bunk, as he tells himself that Justin merely went to the bathroom or to get a bite to eat. He calls out JC's name as he peers over the top of his bunk. Nothing. Even in this dim lighting he can tell that the bunk is flat and that no person occupies it. A second tendril of fear joins the first and his heart begins to beat a little faster.
He rushes to Chris' bunk and then Lance's, repeating the ritual that started with Justin. Nothing. They are not here. His heart is beating much faster now. The tendrils have mutated and are now a thick, dark web of fear that covers his heart. He runs towards the back of the bus calling out his friends' names but he receives no answer. He yanks open the bathroom door, praying that at least one of them will be in there and that at least he will know that one of them is safe, but again he sees nothing but an empty space.
Damn! Where are you guys?
He runs towards the front of the bus now, again praying that he will see them, that they all had insomnia and are sitting around the table talking nonsense. Please let that be it. Please. He reaches the sitting area and looks around it in shock. Nothing. They are not here. They are not anywhere on this bus.
Suddenly, he feels the bus lurch to the side and he is thrown sideways. Damn, could this get any worse? He wonders as he falls into the booth where he and his friends eat. He pushes himself up and runs the few remaining yards to where James, their bus driver sits. Maybe he will have some kind of explanation for where his friends are. He pulls back the curtained divider that affords James a semblance of privacy and what he finds causes him to gasp in disbelief. James is not there either.
He is the only one on this bus.
His mind reels as he stares down at the empty space before him and he wonders how on earth this bus can still be moving. Almost as if the bus can hear his thoughts, the steering wheel turns crazily to the left and Joey is again thrown against the steel of the bus. He cannot actually see what is happening now but he can feel it. He feels as the bus careens into the highway guardrail and smashes through it. He feels as the bus flips into the air and as it lands heavily on the grass. He feels as the bus tumbles down the steep embankment on the side of the road. He yells as his body is thrown about almost casually, as his skin comes into contact with the unforgiving steel of the bus over and over again. He screams as he feels a tearing agony rush through his stomach. Then, all is still.
The bus has stopped. Joey groans as his eyes open and search for the source of the burning pain that is consuming his body. He looks down at his stomach. There. A wickedly sharp piece of jagged glass from one of the broken windows is lodged in his stomach. It is pinning him to the floor of the bus. He wraps his hands around it in an effort to pull it out but all he accomplishes is to bring himself more pain. He looks at his hands, completely covered in blood and then down at the floor where his blood flows like a river away from his body.
He is already feeling the loss of his blood. He is so weak and dizzy. He lifts his head and tries to cry out for help, yet all he can produce is a whisper. He lets his head fall back heavily and feels as tears fill his eyes and run down his face. Why bother asking for help? There is no one here to help him, there is no one here to comfort him. No one here to hold his hand as he dies.
He closes his eyes as he listens to the silence that surrounds him. This was not the way it was supposed to be. He is not supposed to go now. Not so young. Not alone. He has so many things he wants to do...so many things. He is sobbing now as the strength seeps out of his body.
'God, somebody please, don't let me die like this,' he pleads silently as his fear rushes from his heart and consumes him even as his body gives up its struggle to survive.
** FLASH **
Blinding light, then pitch black dark. Then...
The five young men sleeping in the bus wake at the same time, all sitting bolt upright in their bunks. Four of them are breathing as if they had run marathons. One of them is screaming as he hold his hands protectively over his stomach. After a moment they fall silent as they take in their surroundings and the fact that they are all unhurt.
"I had the worst dream," Justin says as he jumps from his bunk. He begins to describe it but doesn't get far before he is interrupted by his friends. They have all had the same dream; the same nightmare. They stare at each other for a moment, uncomprehending, then they rise from their bunks and embrace each other tightly. They are all right. All of them are all right.
***********************
High above the traveling bus one pair of dark eyes turns towards the other. A beautiful face smiles, then laughs in great amusement. Her laughter echoes throughout the heavens.
"Morpheus, I truly thing that you have been given the wrong title. God of dreams! You should be the god of nightmares. That was brilliant!"
"Eris, you are much too kind. Really." He smiles. "I am just glad that you enjoyed their torture. Although I wouldn't expect any less from the goddess of discord."
She smiles. "I enjoyed myself greatly dear. Perhaps we can revisit these boys again soon?" she asks. Her long dark hair swirls around her in the night and Morpheus reaches forward to capture the some of the wayward strands in his hand.
"Whatever my lady desires," he says as he brings the strands to his lips.
Then nothing as the two beings fade away into the night sky.
End.