Something awakened in the distant echoes of Angel’s consciousness. He couldn’t put words to the collaboration of new sensations that he felt but his mind brought one to the forefront-
For the better part of his life, Angel searched for this feeling….yet it wasn’t a feeling.
He couldn’t grasp or touch it.
He just…knew….that he had reached it.
He pleaded for the ability to keep his eyes closed and maintain the ability to experience this…..realm of peace.
Like all things, good and bad, that occur with eyes wide shut, they come to an end.
Angel opened his eyes, expecting to see the flawed popcorn ceiling and lint covered fan that are representations of his apartment.
What he saw, caused him to fall out of the chair he was sitting upright in, and to re close he eyes tight.
Before opening his eyes…again. He convinced himself that he must still be sleeping and his mind shifted into nightmare mode.
“Just ride it out….” He told himself. “just ride it out.”
As he continued to repeat the phrase under his breathe, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He did his best to ignore it but the tapping continued.
He reluctantly began to opened his eyes. The nightmare wanted to talk to him.
He repeated the phrase, one more time, then opened his eyes to face to constant tapper.
“Ride it out.”
Angel uprighted himself in the chair and looked at the boy who inflicted the tapping.
He couldn’t have been older than 8, but it was hard to be definite of his age because of the bloating of his lips and body and extreme blue coloration.
The boy tilted his head, pointed at the exit wounds in Angel’s chest and asked-
“You get shot?”
The boy asked again-
“Shot…pew pew pew.” With his enlarged blue fingers using a gun motion.
Angel slowly looked down at his chest and looked at the blood stained shirt he was wearing. He lifted it up to reveal 3 small exit holes. For the moment, he had no recollection of the events. He looked back up at the boy who was awaiting an answer.
“I don’t know….what happened to you?”
The boy shrugged his shoulders and simply answered after a coughing fit that brought up murky water-
“I go swimming to catch robot that fell in lake…..” He said as he held up a small toy robot and continued.
He started coughing again, then reached into his mouth and pulled out a piece of seaweed.
“Tastes icky….here.” He says and hands it to Angel.
The seaweed feels real in his hand. Limp. Soggy. He flicks it and the remnants of lake water and saliva that covered his hand, and wipes his hand on his shirt to dry it.
His hand comes up blood red.
He looks at it, wondering when this nightmare will end.
The boy gets disinterested and sloshes away.
“Maybe if I pinch myself real hard it will jar me awake.” He thinks and proceeds to grab portions of his skin with his index finger and thumb.
He twists and tugs in his arm as hard as he can. He shuts his eyes tight, mutters “hmmph” and let’s go when he can’t handle it anymore.
Then opens his eyes.
And is startled by a large man covered in a dark oily substance, laughing at him.
He looks up to look at the man in the face, but he has nothing but a neck.
Angel scales his eyes back down his torso. The head is laughing from underneath the bulging right arm that holds it.
“I tried that too,” the head stated as it chuckled, “you’re really here. By the looks of it…you got murdered. That sucks.”
“Yeah, I’m here until I wake up. What happened to you?”
The face on the head smirks.
“Wake up? You should wake up and realize you ain’t gonna ‘wake up’. Have you seen you.” He says as he reaches his dirty left index finger out and at Angel’s bloodied chest.
“This hole is right where your heart…was.”
He pokes his finger through the hole and into where his heart should be then pulls it out.
“No one wakes up from that. Me? Oil rig accident. Tension rod snapped. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time…took my head clean off. Now I am here…like you waiting for my name to be called.”
Angel tried to grasp what the headless man said and managed to utter one question.
“Called for what?”
The head replied with another chuckle-
“Transition…wow…you are totally clueless, aren’t you. No worries, got nothing to do but wait…you go ahead and keep trying to wake up, though.”
As the large man finished his statement, a voice came over the intercom,
“CONNELLY….BUBBA CONNELLY…PLEASE COME FORWARD.”
“Hey! That’s me. Gotta go, kid. Keep your head up.”
He said as he placed his head between both hands and raised it up and placed it onto his neck.
Angel watched in disbelief as “Headless Bubba Connelly” walked up to the front of the room and greeted the man who wore an oversized grey suit and immaculately shined shoes.
Before leading Bubba down a corridor, the man looked over at Angel, tipped his fedora and put up one hand and motioned for Angel to wait.
Angel began to get up to confront the man in the grey suit before he disappeared again.
Before he could, he legs went numb and he collapsed back into the chair. His eyes rolled back as the images of his death rolled into view, as if watching a movie.
A tear rolled down his cheek, as he watched his body fall and the life he once had end.
A thought slowly ran through his mind as he watched his eyes go blank-
“Wrong place….wrong time.”
As the thought finished it’s journey, the peace that had felt when was convinced he was dreaming….returned.
And he waited for the man in the grey suit and the immaculately shined shoes to call his name.
To be continued….
Images retrieved using Google search.
Continued story from the mind of-