This story is based on a reoccurring nightmare I’ve been having about my best friend, Kurt, dying. My hope is that by writing this short story my nightmare will go away and it will never become a reality.

Lying in bed that morning, I could hear the rain dripping on to the roof. There had been a storm just hours ago, which had dwindled down to a light rain now. The chill in the air lingered even as the sun’s beams crept over the trees.
Last night had been a great night. Chris and I had gone to the movies where we ran in to a million other people from school. Everyone had to comment on the fact that we were together, even though they should all know by now that Chris is more like a brother than anything else. There could never be romance between us, there just isn’t a spark. I don’t know how many times they have said things like “go get a room” or “why don’t you two just get married, it’ll happen eventually.” Yes, Chris will always be in my life, but not as my husband. In fact, he is the reason that I have life in the first place. When things get tough, and I feel like giving up, he’s always there consoling me, making me feel needed. That’s what last night was for. I had another fight with my father, and had popped some pills the night before. When I told him all about it, he couldn’t help but want to help. That’s the way he is, always kind and considerate towards everyone. He has a way of making all of your fears and worries melt away into the inner-most depths of the universe.
My head spun trying to reenact all the laughs and smiles last night had brought. I was in this sense of euphoria, as if the world had not yet started to move. Then the phone rang, bringing me back to reality. Being only 9 in the morning, I couldn’t imagine who it could be. My friends know better than to call me this early, I’m usually never awake.
Stumbling out of bed, my hand reached out and grasped the phone and pulled it towards my face. My voice had not yet woken, and it took a second to screech out a “hello.”
“Michelle? Hi; this is Chris’ mother. Do you know where he is? He never came home last night”
“I don’t know. That makes no sense. He left right after the movie…it must have been around 11:30. I’ll get dressed and come right over. I’m sure we can figure out where he is.” My voice had regained full strength by now, and I rushed to recover my balance as I stood up and threw on an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I scribbled out a note for the parents, and ran to the car. I made it to their house in less than 10 minutes; record time.
When I pulled in to the drive, I was confronted by a police officer. Turns out Chris had gotten in to an accident on his way home. They found his car in the ravine just 2 miles down the road. They found him half a mile from there. He had minor head injuries, and had made it through the night. There was no reason why he should have to spend more than a few days in the hospital.
Later that day I visited him in the emergency room. They kept him there for a while so he could be closely monitored. He looked fine, full of life as always.
“You got me really scared, you know. When they told me what had happened, I thought I was going to lose you. But I can see that will never happen!”
“No, it won’t, I promise. You’ll never have to think that. As a matter of fact, they’re sending me home today. Looks like I didn’t get hurt too bad.”

The next couple of days went by slow. He spent most of his time in bed, resting. We all thought that he was fine. Even the doctors said so. I still don’t know how they could all be so terribly wrong. Why didn’t they run more tests? How could they miss it?
Three days after Chris came home, he died in his sleep. His brain had bled internally, and none of the tests found it in time. When I got the phone call, I thought my heart was going to fall out of my chest. Tears started pouring down my face, my legs gave out, and all I could do was lie on the floor in a ball. My worst nightmares had come true. He was gone.
The funeral was held only 2 days later. As I walked in to the room, I couldn’t understand how people could look so unaffected. Sure, they wore their finest black suits and dresses. They knelt at the coffin like all the rest, and gave their respects to the family. Yet for me, I could barely move. My eyes drifted to the coffin, but I couldn’t see inside. My eyes were much too soggy to see his figure. I’m almost glad I couldn’t see him. If I saw his body lying there, lifeless, I would be forced to believe that he really is gone.
When the services began, I had been asked to make a speech on behalf of all his friends. This is what I said:
“Chris was the greatest friend that anyone could ever ask for. He would give anything in order to make you happy, even if it meant sacrificing what he really wanted. His heart was filled with nothing but sympathy, compassion, love, joy and kindness towards everyone in his life. His smile made others smile. Whenever he walked in to a room, people would look up, and know that everything was ok. There has never been, and will never be a greater person than him. You ask me to stand here and tell you all what a wonderful friend he was, but I don’t need to. Everyone in this room has been affected by Chris’ generosity and kindness. That is why you are here. If it weren’t for Chris…well, I wouldn’t be here.”
My passion overwhelmed me. My whole mind broke apart at that instant. I realized that if he must die, then I shall, too. He was the reason I am alive, now there is nothing left.
Somewhere between running down the street and collapsing in the town green, I came to the realization that Chris wouldn’t want me to run off and kill myself. If I did, then everything that he had done for me would be for naught. He had given his life trying to save mine, and I could never be so ungrateful as to wasting all that.
Twelve years after Chris’ passing, I married a man who made my life whole again. He was everything Chris had been. That year we brought in to the world Christopher Michael with the hopes that he would be the best friend and savior to someone in his life. If he has to lose his life to save another’s, that is something we can work through, because you always have to look at death for what it is. With the death of one brings the life of another.

Cher Paris

A Lifetime of Nature

   Walking alone through the woods I notice that the birds have all gone, and the trees no longer sway in the breeze. The leaves have lost their color, and all tend to be brown and grey. The ground is no longer soft and welcoming under my feet, but hard and foreboding. The breeze that hits my arms causes my spine to shiver. The backyard that I have played in many times before is now a cold and desolate place, full of horrors not yet seen.
   As I pass that tree on my right, the one that stands stories above my head, I am hit with a rush of memories of my childhood. How we used to climb that tree and act as if we owned the world. Its bark now moss covered and green shows no sign of the life it once held. Walking further through the wood I nearly trip over the rock that has served as a marker to so many lost pets of my youth. The rock wall is seen up ahead, and I make my way towards it. My destination lies just beyond the once vine-barring trees. So many times have I swung across the river on one of these vines. So many memories with my family sitting around our picnic table enjoying each others company. So many memories, yet all in the past.
   The sound of the stream has always calmed me in the past; sitting alone here on this rock, letting my feet dangle in the cool water. Tears from my eyes add to the already rushing waters underneath my hand-hidden face. The naturally dimly lit forest is abnormally dark for this time of day. Or perhaps it is later than I thought. It seems as though all time has stopped, and nature is reflecting my inner soul. I lift my head and look around. There is nothing that has ever been familiar to me. Looking down I see my hands are much tinier than they just were. I am young again.
   "Crystal!" Mother calls. "Crystal, don't wander off, I don't want you to get lost out here!" My tiny voice shouts back, "Don't worry, Mother, I am just over here." I take my first step into a strange new world. Everything is so bright and wonderful. I can hear birds chirping off in the distance, a slow trickle of water, and not even one hint of a car horn or city bus rolling past. Everywhere I turn, there is a small plant or tiny little animal to avoid. "Mommy, look, a tree house!"
   Tiny leather sandals splash through the water and up a hill into a field slightly off our property. My body stops at the base of one of the largest trees I have ever seen in my young life. At the top is miniature red house perched across several branches. My fearless older brother is the first to climb the rungs of a rickety wooden ladder. After Mom tells me it's too dangerous to climb, I decide to discover the other areas of my new land. All of a sudden, I am twice the size as I just was, and rushing through the woods, not looking where I am going. I jump across the stream, and up the ladder I go, not stopping until I am firmly planted inside the house. My leather notebook is in hand, and I furiously write my ideas down. A new song has just come to me, and I have to come to my writing spot, or else it will all have been in vein. I stand up, and my head hits the ceiling. Apparently, I have outgrown what once was my hideout. As I begin my descent I hear a voice off in the distance calling me to dinner.
   On my way back down the winding path, I walk past the lean-to that hadn't yet been built. No longer have I that leather notebook in hand, and I am now twelve years old. I crouch behind a rock and silently look on as my brother walks hand in hand with his girlfriend to his special spot. Just as he leans in to kiss her, I trip and hit my head on the rock. "Crystal! Get out of here! Mom, tell Crystal to leave us alone!" Bleeding and saddened, I sulk back inside to my room.
   Out of the corner of my eye is my guitar. "Where did this come from?" My subconscious wonders. I then realize I am not 15 and it is my birthday. I have just gotten home from what was one of my worst days. Absolutely none of my friends seemed to even acknowledge me, or my special day. Everyone is too excited over the holidays being just two days away. The phone rings; it is my boyfriend, Seth. He at least remembers it is my birthday, yet sadly is calling to break up out relationship. So once again, I run out to my secret spot on the rock near the river to drown my sorrows.
   Suddenly I am woken by a hand on my shoulder. Shawn's wife is standing beside me, and I am back in the right day, though I hardly wish I were. I rise, and she puts one arm around my back to lead me away. Looking around one last time, I see so many wondrous things that have never been there before. There is a little girl with a smile bright as the sun; a nosey sister getting her revenge; a teenager running away from the sorrows of young life; and a woman looking back one last time at what her life used to be.