I awake in my my bed, but in an odd position. Drywall, paint, and pieces of my old wooden fan are littered across my body. I look up to see my roof has been hit fairly hard by a large object. Looking down the answer to the forming question becomes obvious, I have been slung very hard into the air. Luckily my incredibly stiff body has weathered the event fairly well , but scrapes and signs of damage can be seen by the analytical eye. At this point I start to observe all of the patterns that are forming between this and the last dream event.

I sense unknowable eyes desecrating my body, I am being watched. I note that I impossibly moved in the regular world. The last few seconds of movement before death seem to apply to both worlds. Maybe it has to do with me being transferred back to my real body? The more important question is why it happened in the first place.

Slam! My door busts wide open as Angelica frantically comes in. “Braxton! Are you okay? What happened? Wha-Wha-WHAT?” She yells at top volume after seeing my body and the damage to the roof.

“I really don’t fucking know. I woke up after a weird dream, and I was just laying down on the bed.” I say while contemplating the event.

“Thi-this is impossible Braxton. You...Was somebody in here? No...” Lines of horror slowly creep on to her face as the mystery becomes less and less explainable. Angelica leaks religious fervor as she says,”Why? I just can’t see any other reason than a divine miracle, or divine...punishment. ”

I start to seriously ponder Angelica's claim. It seems more likely than any other explanation I have contemplated. Now that the event has proof and a witness it seems many times more real than the last time it happened. I can somehow explain that my nerves reactivated shortly during my last dream. Which led to me clawing and running in my sleep last time. This time though...I am burned so badly, and I have so many different joint problems their is no possible way I can move. Much less launch myself 10 feet in the air while laying down.

“I guess I felt like superman for a second, ay Angelica? Wanted to bust through the roof to fight crime. Maybe save a damsel or two? “ I say while my voice shifts from a nonchalant joke to harsh skepticism.

“Braxton. This is dangerous. I don’t know what could have caused this, but we need to find you somewhere safe. I’m sure if I make a claim we can have you put under police protection-”Angelica is about to try and suggest solutions when I suddenly cut her off.

“Angelica please think for a moment. If someone wanted me dead, and could sneak through our house and launch me into the roof without waking me up...I’m not safe anywhere…I know you may not think this way, but I really don't have that much time. I don’t want to waste the little bit of time I have left covered in kevlar and surrounded by security cameras.”

“Braxton...Do you really think you don’t have anything to lose? ” Angelica says while her voice trembles, and her her mouth lay slightly open.

I instantly start to laugh harshly, “Hahahahhaha. Wait, hahaha. You think, hahahah.” I pause to settle down my rampant laughter. “I don’t Angelica! Threatening me is impossible at this stage. I’ll...be gone soon anyways, I can’t feel anything, I’m already crippled beyond belief...How about this Angelica. We keep living like we always do. We ignore this happened, and we taunt this ‘spooky and malicious spirit’ with our happiness. I mean, that is, if you aren’t going to get scared and leave.” She stands over me because I can’t move my neck anymore, so she hears the seriousness in my voice.

I can't blame her if she leaves... This was even more unnerving to her than me, but I have so little time... I know better than most that a happy life isn’t going to just happen. Sometimes you have to work to love life. This time we just have to work harder is all.

“I...You know I could never leave you Braxton...Nobody else could work the salt mines,” she giggles slightly,”...You’d end up all alone you know?” She runs towards me and hugs my scarred body and starts to cry. It makes me very happy as a sentiment, but the action doesn't affect me as much as I want it to. The lack of feeling dampens it for me. All the same we lay there for at least a few minutes before we decided to get ready for a visit.

The dramatic events from earlier have left me exhausted, but luckily I still have enough energy for the task at hand. My old teacher Ms. Herners was a kind enough lady. Throughout high school because of my outburst, I know she always blamed herself for my angst and pain that year. I decide that today I will visit her and apologize. I want to try to make sure I don’t leave any lasting scars before I...leave.

After getting out of the car that Angelica uses to drive me everywhere, we stroll along a pleasant suburban street. The average mowed lawn and decorative plants litter the landscape as we come to a small but well kept home. Angelica rings the doorbell, and we wait.

“Hello?” A crackly older woman says while opening the door. Her face becomes a horror filled rag before she continues by opening the door and saying, “Bra-Braxton! I saw what happened on the news. I’m sorry for not coming by the hospital. ” She says the last sentence with fear. My throat falls into my stomach as I imagine the old lady cowering in front of my burnt and battered body. How can I cause so much fear? Do my internal thoughts reflect my external appearance?

“I know you had things you needed to do. Plus not everyone I have ever known my entire life can come visit me in the hospital right? Please don’t worry about it. Do you...Do you have time to talk right now? ” I say with heavy breathing.

“Of course! Sit down and I’ll fix you both a drink. What do you want?” She says while trying to put on the usual social airs desperately needed in these situations.

“Please Give Angelica some tea. I’m fine without anything.” I say while being rolled into an old looking living room filled with knickknacks.

After about 5 minutes she comes inside and sits down. Her old wrinkle covered hands slightly shake as she brings in the drinks. like she is about to be psychologically mauled. I feel pieces of scar tissue slightly move in front of my eyes and face. I try to close my eyes to absorb some of the impact of the old lady's fear, but my own skin fights the efforts, and it wins. I try to smile as well, but I settle for internal happiness. I thought my blowup five years ago didn't really effect her, but...apparently no one really knows how much of an impact they have on others.

“First off I wanted to say that I am sorry Ms. Herners. I really don’t want you to feel like you're a bad person... or that you made some kind of mistake 5 years ago. I was a teenager grief stricken by my circumstances, but that’s no excuse for what I did. I...I think you're a wonderful person. You’re always trying your hardest, and I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.” I say while moving my head slightly to try and show sincerity.

We sit there for awhile before my sudden declaration really hits her. As if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders, the old woman says while finally relaxing, “I guess I can finally let that go. You know...I never thought less of you for that. Nobody did.”

I quickly respond, “Not true...I felt like I had been beaten and broken by my disease after that. Like I had let my disease define me…” I pause for a few seconds to gather my emotions and words before saying, ”I think this is the final step to defining myself, and not letting excuses, or pride, or some disease decide who I am.”

After a silence permeates the room for a few minutes we resume the conversation in a much lighter way. We talk about the school and its students. We talk about old teachers, and what has happened since. After about two hours I decide it is time to go.

“I just want to say goodbye Ms. Herners.” I say while my voice cracks..

“Haha!” She laughs with energy defying her age. “You don’t really sound like you're saying goodby to me…” She pauses as if to breathe in the moment before continuing. She smiles a gentle and knowing smile when she says, “We all have our demons Braxton. I’m just glad you’re getting past yours’.”

When we leave, I think about how she is right. The angry and dejected me of the past ignited and burned to cinders. I came here to try and heal her. In the end her acceptance and understanding is helping me far more. I weep like a child while Angelica drives me home.

I later defend my thesis on neutrino therapy as a form of curing certain forms of malignant cancer successfully. The thesis creates a method of using neutrinos instead of standard gamma radiation in chemotherapy. This process uses neutrino streams to react with the electrons in cancer cells to release controlled beams of radiation. This allows a non-invasive operation with substantially less side effects because the radiation is more controlled compared to normal chemotherapy while being far more accurate. Ensuring much lower chances for recurrences of malignant cancer cells. I can stare into the abyss a little less afraid knowing it will be used to save a lot of people some day.

Two weeks after my thesis, I can no longer speak or move except for my eyebrows. Two weeks after that the doctors tell me I have no time left. All of my loved ones are waiting near the hospital for the news that I have died, so when they call everybody is somewhat prepared for what is about to happen. Even me.

The funny part is that I can't hear or see very well, but I can feel their love. I can see Luke crying like a baby, Kinslee slowly letting tears fall with a smile, my Mom's face grimaced in pain, and Angelica in the corner with her face in her hands. I feel surprised by how much everyone cares for me. I guess I could have done worse. I know it is over when I can't breathe anymore.The darkness that has surrounded me for the last few weeks becomes pitch blackness instead.

********

I cried again while editing this. Damn man.