Friday, March 13, 2009

Shot

A dog barked and ran. The soft thuds of each paw hitting the earth was muffled by the grass. The round, green and purple tennis ball flew out of the hand of a somewhat tall girl, laughing as she enjoyed the game of fetch.
The yard was big, but it was not hers. She didn't even know why she was there. She threw the ball hard. Over a hill and down the other side. The dog didn't even run after it. The girl ran to the ball, her brown hair back in a ponytail. She bent down to pick up the ball, her knees making a slightly sickening crack as she lowered herself.
Soft footsteps were heard behind her, startling her. She quickly turned around and saw three men, two friends and her significant other. All three were brothers, but only two by blood.
A smile started to snake its way across her face, but quickly faded once a gun with a silencer was raised. It was a MGC Ingram M11 Heavy Weight. A friend shot the ball from her hand, face showing no emotion. He raised it a little higher, and that's when she ran.
She ran through woods. The path was narrow and heavily wooded, she had to swerve, jump and move out of the way so she didn't fall. Tree branches hit her, cut her and slowed her down. Their roots came out of the ground in many parts, making her jump over them.
Four women blocked the path. An elderly grandmother, a mother and two daughters.
They're trying to kill me. There's something going on.
But they didn't giver her a second thought. Her lungs were on fire, her legs were weak, and she felt the blood that still ran warm in her veins, running through her system. They were all behind her, swift and silent.
She was sure to be finished until she saw a long, stone pathway, with grass on either side. The president at the very end of the pathway. Few people were there, but enough were. She fell before the president and stayed there.
He was so nice.
She looked back and there he was. Her lover, her romancer. He was being swift, cutting onto the grass. She lost it. The brown haired girl yelled, ran and attacked him, tackling him to the ground.
She hit him over, and over again, blue eyes filling with tears.
'How could you?! You're supposed to protect me!' She hit him again. 'You're supposed to love me!'
She rolled off of him and took his face in bother pale hands. 'We've known each other so long!'
He pinned her to the ground so she couldn't harm him anymore. He tried to calm her down as she cried. He picked her up and held her, sitting in a tree, holding her in his arms.
'When am I supposed to die?'
'When you look at the president.'
'But he's over there.'
He was to her side. She looked back to see a man dressed in all black, standing a few feet away with a gun. The same gun. She screamed, jumped down and ran to protect herself. Someone was running around, trying to protect her, but it was her lover, who shot her.
She looked at him as he lowered the gun, and she fell.
'I never did.'

2 comments:

  1. not a good dream, so many emotions, so many people, none to protect you... but you.

    Time heals most things...

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  2. *sigh* Unfortunately yes. My dreams are always like this. Weird or full of emotion.
    Time heals, but leaves scars.

    ReplyDelete