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Epilogue of Recycled Dreams

Recycled Dreams

-  Epilogue -

So generic. The same thing everyday. The same routine, over and over.

                He just stood there; tapping his foot in time with the music. Each tap causing the puddle below him to thrash around. It was inaudible; everything around him. It reminded him of a silent film. The tape was rolling and the frames moving. Frames moving faster than the eye could realize. It created a scene. It was the scene of an average day. Well, average in this boring neighbourhood.

“Here in my car,

I feel safest of all,

I can lock all my doors,

It’s the only way to live,

In cars...”

                The people around him were racing. To work. To school. It was neverending. It was continuous and predictable. The song didn’t seem to fit the scene it was playing for.

“Here in my car,

I can only receive,

I can listen to you,

It keeps me stable for days,

In cars...”

                Suddenly; only for a moment, a strong, sinking feeling happened throughout his body. Was he sick? A sudden case of heartburn?

                “It’ll pass...” he thought as he began to pace forward, still seemingly in time with the song. The music continued...and so did the ‘feeling’. It was nameless. It was nameless and it was beginning to agitate the boy. The description of it was changing and it was gradually making him loose focus of where he was going.

“Here in my car,

Where the image breaks down,

Will you visit me please?

If I open my door,

In cars...”

                “Hmm...” He wasn’t sure how to react. It began as the infamous ‘butterflies’ that cause your stomach to churn and cause nervousness to inflame your body. It then shifted to a dark, hollow feeling. A moment where you feel empty from the inside out, this happening whenever depression takes place; the interpretation of loneliness even when people are around. It stopped for a moment. For good, he hoped. And then slowly, with the new addition of chills, he felt bad. Just plain bad. As if something horribly wrong was about to take place.

                “What is this?” His thoughts were quickly clouded with horrific images; flashing before his eyes. He couldn’t even take time to let the images sink in. What were they? He had to stop in his tracks to focus for a moment. Stitches. Blood. Decapitation. Necrophilia. Slaughter. It made him sick to his stomach.

                “What is this feeling?” It was bad. It was bad because it was a ‘sign’.

                In the next few seconds something happened that was too quick to react to, not that anyone would have wanted to. The boy glanced up. That feeling? It was gone. He smiled to himself before turning his head slowly to the left. And that’s when it hit him...literally.

“Here in my car,

I know I’ve started to think,

About leaving today,

Although nothing seems right,

In cars...”
                How ironic. Maybe the song really had fit the scene perfectly. Too perfectly. The boy was leaving tonight. He was leaving and entering that coma we all know and love...death.