"Don't shoot!"
I shout out in the dark as I hold her in my arms. Struggling, I find myself in pain and confusion as I tighten my grip around her. With one arm clinging around her chest and another pointing a gun at her temple, I guide both our way out of the unlit corridor. It is bright of white and blue outside. There are incidences of flashing yellow light in the corners of my eyes. They have us surrounded.
She was crying. Her body visibly shaken and unsure of what to do or what is happening. I try to whisper some sense into her ear but it only made her flinch. She was scared of me. I wouldn't be surprised. I just woke up in this situation; a scenario most people refer to as a hostage crisis. In my confusion, I hold the gun firmly. I could see the red lines pointing at my body, desperately trying to find an unguarded spot of me.
I'm tired. Exhausted. I've lived countless lives in the past few weeks. Don't know how long I can last but one thing's for sure. I'd do it for her. All over again for her. My Sophia Noel.
Her tears start falling on my arms and it hurt me to be in this position. What do I do? Once I die in this dream, it's over for me. I'll be dead on the outside, never to see her again. Maybe that's a better ending for our story. Think. Think quick. I look around me only to be blinded by the spotlights pointing at our direction. After a loud and piercing feedback, I hear a voice.
"We've got you surrounded, Harry. Let her go."
They called me Harry. In this narrative, I am a Harry. The hostage taker. At least it sounds closer to my real name. Trying to break free from my clutch, I hold Sophia closer to my chest.
"Please let me go" I could hear her voice break as she pleads for her life. I didn't want any of this either, I wish I could tell her that. This is her dream. This is a story her mind created. It is I who is just invading the works of her beautiful mind. Maybe I was just unlucky that I took the role of a criminal.
"Please… let me go"
It was the most painful thing she could ever say. I don't want to. This is the closest I've been with her for days or even weeks. To hold her again like this in my arms. To have her feel secure and not this way. Maybe this is her saying it's time for me to move on. She might know I'm here in her dreams. She's probably seen how much I tried. For me, it wasn't enough.
Keep yourselves alive in the dream. That's what the doctor told me before I went into the program. You die in it, you'll never get back. Well, what's the use of going back to a life without her with me. She may be present but I'll never get to feel her love again. A world wherein no matter how many times I tell her that I love her, nothing will change. She'll be lying there peacefully. Maybe that was better. I could never hurt her again. But I want to tell her this:
"I'm sorry."
And the struggle ceases. It is as if she understands what I meant. For a moment, I felt happiness escaping through my being.
"I just want to hold you one last time" I whisper into her ear. Releasing the safety of the gun, my fingers try to find the right places for that one last shot. This is the time I let go of her. I keep repeating this to myself until I have an echo doing it for me. Maybe this is what she wants. For herself. For me. For us. It is the time I move on and find happiness in which she isn't the source.
I can't.
I can't imagine a life like that. My heart beats faster as I hear a voice counting loudly. It was a stern voice, ready to kill. I know I don't have much time. I have to decide whether to die now with her or to slowly die on the surface without her by my side. Tears burst out of my eyes as I tore my heart from my mind in choosing what's best for us.
Silence fills the air. My breathing became more apparent to me than ever. With every breath, a second wasted on indecision. I hold my ground.
In a split second, I unwrap her from my possession. She runs forward until two men catches her in the safety of their embrace. My gun I dare not wave in the air but instead point it to my own temple. With one last breath to take, I make sure it was the deepest one yet. Smile. Our memories flash before my eyes. All the stories we shared together out there in the surface and in here, in her dreams.
Fire.
I fall down slowly thinking it is I dying from my own bullet. But as my eyes catch my gun spinning in the air, I feel a sharp pain on my neck. Helpless on the ground, I reach out to the source of the pain only to find a dart, empty of its poison. Rumbling feet sounds closer and closer to my deathbed. I try to fight my eyes from closing.
The sky is dark and the stars are nowhere to be found. Soon, the view becomes a kaleidoscope of faces and white lights directed at my iris. Breathe in, breath out. No. No, I say to myself. The ending I tried making for myself was only another beginning. I fight it as my lids begin weighing down. My body rises from the ground through hands that carry me by force. I couldn't feel anything. All I knew was that my body was too tired to care. And that my eyes need another rest.
Maybe when I wake up, it's another chance. Another story to unfold before me. But she'll be there. I know she'll be there. I smile knowing this. Then, I let my rest take over me.
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