I held myself, rocking back and forth. I couldn't feel anything, just a consuming, burning numbness. There may have been tears, but I don't remember them. I simply sat there for what seemed like ages, rocking as flashbacks plagued me.

His finger on my lips, pressing them gently. "It's our secret." I smiled, running my hand gently along his jawline. The rough stubble along his chin tickled my hand, and I laughed softly, the sound bubbling forth from deep within. His eyes held that playful grin that always made me smile, no matter what had happened. He laughed with me, taking my hands in his and swaying back and forth with me. There in the field....the smell of antique roses scenting the air heavily with their heavenly smell, the grass brushing our knees like angel wings gently fluttering.

"Angel?" I looked up into his laughing green eyes.

"Yes?"

"If I asked you...if I asked you too.." His cheeks glowed a pale red. My eyes must have widened a bit, seeing him blush for the first time, because he chuckled. He ran his hand gently over my cheek and smiled down at me, kissing my forehead gently. "Angel..." He knelt on one knee, gently holding my right hand in both of his. He flipped it over tenderly, uncovering my palm. In the center of my palm lay a beautiful silver ring, small leaves etched into the surface. "Would...would you marry me?"

I looked at the ring, then looked at him, amazed. I thought he was joking for a moment, until I saw his face. His eyes shone with a light I had never seen in them before. I gasped softly and nodded, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. I nodded again and managed to speak. "Y-yes." He smiled and took the ring, gently sliding it onto my finger. It gleamed in the afternoon sun beautifully, with distinguished grace. He stood up, kissing me gently on the lips. I blushed lightly, kissing back softly. He smiled and broke the kiss, leaning back. He looked at me for a moment before taking my hand in his, and starting for the far edge of the meadow. Where the blackberries were.

I was shaken out of my reflections by a choked sob. My own. It was a savage sound, bursting forth from my throat in such a primal, consuming manner I couldn't resist it. My crying eyes wandered down to my hand and beheld the silver ring for the hundredth time. I brought my hand to my lips, kissing the ring. I felt my heart breaking, splitting, tearing. It was Shattering, I could feel it. I sobbed again, curling up in a small ball on the floor, holding the ring tightly in my clutched hands. This ring was his. His ring

After my silent sobs had subsided, the tears fading away into sticky tracks and pools on my skin, salty and sweet. The pain was comforting. It set me free. It took me far away from the hazy half-dreamlike state I had been hibernating in. An odd, disjointed melody cajoling from deep within my memory....'You bleed to know you're alive...'

It frightened me with the calm way I sat in my corner now, completely detached. I had dropped the ring a few feet away from my feet, and still I sat, staring at it. I made no move to get it, because with it, he would come back. He would haunt my presence. He would follow me.

It would kill me, knowing that I lived on without him. He was my all. My everything. And here I was. Staring. I brooded in silence. Silence took his place. Silence became him. In silence, he was there. But he would never be there.

I stood up, slamming my hands against the white, blank walls again, screaming like a banshee. I kicked it, screaming until I was hoarse. I pounded the walls and floor again with my fists, until they bled. The blood splattered and smeared on the walls. I wrote in the blood, my blood. I scratched writings in it....writings of the mad...I was slowly going mad.

"Is no one here? Where am I?!" I screamed the questions over and over again, slamming my body into the bloodstained walls. I was sobbing again, the pain just serving as a temporary fuel. I shook, falling to my knees. My bloody hands felt blindly along the floor until I found the ring. I clutched it, rocking as I bled.

"Michael!" I sobbed his name, for the first time. The name brought back so many memories, just saying it once.

Pouring rain. Roses.

I shook my head, pushing the thought away.

He carried me in his arms.

"Stop it! Stop it! Make it stop!!"

His thumb running over my jawbone, gently kissing behind my ear. It always tickled.

I screamed again in despair, slamming my palms into my arms, legs. Anything that would hurt. Distract myself from it.

I felt hands gently pulling my bloody palms away from me, gently holding them. "Angel...." I couldn't look up. There was only one person that could say my name like that.

"Angel.." The voice was firmer. A hand reaching underneath my chin, gently lifting it up. I brought my eyes up to meet the voice's. Michael.

"Angel...Angel, you're hurting yourself. Stop it."

I shook my head violently, pulling against him. I savored every touch of his, but I hated it. I wanted it all to go away. To forget.

"Angel. Stop it." His voice had an edge on it that he had only used perhaps once around me. He was angry.

"M-Michael.." He looked at me, quietly waiting for me to admit it. "M-Michael...you're...its...there's no.." He leaned forward, gently placing a finger on my lips to silence anything else. His nose quivered like it always did when he wanted to tell me something, something exciting. I looked up expectantly, rubbing my eyes. The ring was still in my hand.

"Angel, all that's behind us now. It's all over, don't you see?"

I cocked my head slightly, furrowing my brow. I instinctively curled my hand around the ring, feeling the blood drying on my hands.

"Angel, my love." He smiled gently, brushing a stray wisp of hair from my face. "It's all over. There's nothing left."

I still didn't understand. He took my hands in his bigger, stronger ones before standing up, pulling me up. He turned slightly, placing one of his hands over one of my bloody handprints on the wall and pushed.

It fell forward, dissipating like it had never been there. The sweet smell of a meadow, fresh rain, antique roses...all the smells I loved in the summertime. I automatically smiled, taking a step out, my eyes closing in the bliss. I opened my eyes in shock when I felt water falling, splashing my face with its little dewdrop kisses.

Something brushed against my knee. I looked down. It was a rose bush. There were blackberries a bit further, but everything seemed to be magnified in beauty. I turned to look at Michael, watching his gentle smile.

"Don't you see, Angel? You could have come out anytime you wanted to. You just had to want it."

"What?" My voice wasn't the raw, hoarse voice I had heard a moment ago. It was sweet, like Honeydew.

He walked to me, taking my hands, now perfectly whole in his, swaying back and forth. The meadow grass brushed at our ankles, just like it had the day he had proposed to me. He smiled, ducking down so he could kiss me, his lips dancing lightly across mine, their touch tender. My eyes filled with tears, as I closed them to just soak up the moment of happy peace.

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"You remember that day...I gave you this ring?" He gestured to the ring that he had slipped on my finger.

I nodded. "How could I forget, Michael?"

He kissed my jawline tenderly. "I want to show you something." I nodded. He took one of my hands, leading me on a small, lightly trodden path through the meadow, a thicket, and a bit of wood. We came to a sheer cliff, but the vista was amazing. The sunset blazed across the sky like flaming love.

I gasped, overlooking the mountains and the sun shining pleasantly on my face. He smiled. "You like it?"

I nodded, stricken. "Michael?"

"Hmm?"

"Where...where are we?"

He looked at me, serious for the first time since we were in the room. He kissed my hands, each of them softly before speaking. "I'm here. You...you're down there." He pointed down the chasm.

My eyes widened in alarm.

"Angel, no. Don't fight it. I'll come and get you soon. Never doubt that. I'll be there always."

"Michael?" My voice was frightened, a small child's.

He just shook his head and closed his eyes tightly, pushing me over the chasm.

"I love you, Angel my darling. Fly!"

I closed my eyes tightly, spreading my arms like wings. I couldn't speak, but I could feel it. It echoed around me, everywhere.

I love you too, Michael.

It echoed in the meadow, the valleys, the mountains, the sunset itself.

He was setting me free.

Everything was on fire. The air reeked of smoke and burning oil, shattered glass all around. There was blood, endless pools of it. They seemed to stretch on as far as the eye could see, seeping into the earth beneath us. I opened my eyes, looking around. I was perfectly fine as far as I could tell, my clothes still looked the same, so did my hair. There wasn’t a scratch on me.

I shifted, sitting up. I had been thrown from the car, to a small grassy verge near a telephone pole. I stood up, looking around. I was completely numb, like something out of a film. I saw a hand on the steering wheel and smiled. Michael’s strong hands in control of the car. I blanched when I reached him. Grey matter was strewn about the seats and dashboard, blood oozing from every abrasion and injury on his body. His face was a pulp of unrecognizable melted flesh and broken bone.

I wanted to run, to turn and run from the only one who I had ever really loved. But something inside told me to stop. To hold back. And I did. The paramedics were arriving, sirens wailing and tires skidding on the rain-drenched streets. Their wailing created a mournful lullaby, luring me into the sleep of rest. Eternal rest, perhaps.

They were yelling. Speaking in rushed, hurried tones that allowed no room for arguments. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, it was as if I was at a movie, watching the people talk in lively tones and such, be unable to hear. The only thing I heard was the constant drone of memories, blurred and rushed together like too many children on a playground, bumping and pushing each other aside for a spot in line.

It roared in my ears, it lurked in the quiet places of my mind, hiding in the shadows and around corners, waiting to be discovered. It screamed my name, and I kept pushing them away, sending them back to the depths. I wasn’t ready. Not yet. I couldn’t. It would kill me.

I heard a rushed yell, and suddenly I knew.

It was my choice. I could choose. I could leave. I could go see Michael.

I could almost see him scowling in disapproval at the very thought of leaving behind everything I had. I could hear his voice speaking softly in my head, from one of those lurking memories that seemed to so ready to devour me alive.

“Angel?” I nodded. “I want you to listen to me. And closely.” I nodded again. “Angel...never sacrifice yourself for my sake. Especially if I’m already dead. If I’m dead, you dying isn’t going to bring me back, okay?”

I had just told him ‘okay’ and nodded when he told me. Then the thought hit me.

Was it all a plan? A ruse? Was he just trying to commit suicide? Or maybe murder, then suicide?

I slung the thought from my head. It was just too...Michael would never do that. He would tell me. He would....he wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t. I could have handed him my very life and he would never do anything to tear it apart. He was my Michael.

I wish I could feel the pain. Just to make sure I’m alive. Because if I hurt, I know I’m alive. But if I’m numb, I might not be there. I could be back at the crash site...with...with Michael...

His cologne lingering on my skin after his touch. My blue silken dress. His tux.

Not now. Not this.

“You can’t stop love, Angel.”

I can’t stop it. It’s killing me.

The smell of roses and blackberries. Brahms lullaby.

I can’t take it.

“Close your eyes, Angel. Imagine a dress like this, only white. Roses. Flower petals swirling through the air.” I smiled, seeing it all.

“A small church. A white one. With a big field behind it.” He had nodded, grinning.

“With a creek. And blackberries.”

“Summer.”

Roses. Sumer. Blackberries. White churches. White dresses. A kiss. A ring.

My wedding.

I cannot let this go to waste. This is my future.

He’s holding me. His touch is soft, gentle and soothing as it pressed gently against my scorched flesh, his soft and quiet words healing me slowly. But I am jolted back to reality, my heart forced to beat. Then I feel it. Something in me pushes. It fights for me, shoving me back to the living. I am alive.

My heart is beating on its own. I am breathing. My body is healing. I feel it. It is searing my muscles, my veins, tendons...everything. It is setting me on fire, seemingly scorching my tortured flesh a second time.

I opened my mouth in a scream. The metal was on my skin, burning into me. Burning flesh, burning hair, everything was on fire. I pushed myself up, looking around. It was hazy with smoke, burning my lungs. I coughed violently, pushing myself away from the gurney. I stumbled through the blaze, down the hospital corridor. I saw shadowy figures, flickering through the flames, going about their lives as if the entire hospital wasn’t in flames.

I ran, screaming and crying through the inferno. It was always there, burning me even when there were no flames, in a rare moment of peace. I ran for the people, praying for mercy, screaming for it. I sobbed openly, making no effort to wipe my face from the torrents of tears, or the ash and smoke from the blaze. I slammed into a wall, like a glass wall. I beat it with my fists and hands, screaming and sobbing for mercy.

I frantically ran down the corridors, looking for anyone, anyone who could hear me. I saw an orderly, walking into what seemed to be a patient’s room. I ran to him, standing right in front of him. I was screaming at the top of my burnt, bruised, and bloody lungs. He simply stared right through me. In desperation, I stepped back, folding my arms back as I lunged forward, extending my arms in a massive shove. He didn’t move, didn’t even feel it. I hurtled through the air, my screams echoing in the smoky air.I hit the floor, fully expecting to be writhing in pain. But I felt nothing.

There was no pain.

I slammed my hand down on the floor, over and over again, screaming at myself, to wake up. I screamed it until my voice was a hissing rasp, my lips were so dry they bled. The smoke burnt my eyes, tortured my lungs. I gasped for air, but none came. I gasped again to no avail. I couldn’t breath. I tried to shove myself to my knees, my feet. Slammed into the floor, I couldn’t move. Nothing was working. I opened my mouth to scream, slapping my palms against the floor, my arms, chest, anything.

I turned my body, slamming it into the concrete. Over and over again, gasping for a breath of air, just a wisp of oxygen. I heard shouts and calls as orderlies and nurses swarmed the corridor around me, but their voices were bubbly, as if they were speaking underwater. I opened my mouth again, trying to force myself to breath.

Everything was going light. I felt enchanted, under a spell. I had no reason to fight the inevitable. It was coming, and I knew it. I let a small smile play on my lips. It was my time. Michael was coming. I could see him again. But something was wrong. He was shaking his head, and pointing backwards. I reached out for him, screaming in my tortured voice. He didn’t come to me. Everything was blackening, spinning. I looked up, my lungs filling with burning oxygen. I took another panicked gulp of air, letting out a bloodcurdling scream. I forced myself through the motions, my chest rising and falling with every searing breath. A wave of pain washed over me, tossing me in a tide of emotions and ripping every thought from me.

There is roar in my ears, and everything goes black.

There is no escape from it. It’s watching my every move. It’s fangs are dripping with crimson blood, it’s eyes burn red. Grinning sadistically, it sharpens its claws on the concrete, edging towards me. I open my mouth to scream, reaching for something in the distance, only to hurtle through the air, slamming onto the ground, looking up as it glares down at me, that grin peeling back it’s lips, exposing it’s yellowing canines.

I’m snatched away from it, spinning through endless dark and rain, the water hitting me with icy touch. I scream a silent scream again, my breath catching in my parched throat. Blood is everywhere. It surrounds me, there is no escape from the darkness. I can feel my body heaving with heavy sobs, yet I cannot hear. Everything is but a blur, a high-pitched ringing in my ears, everything spinning. Oblivion washes me away to the depths of unconsciousness.

Jolted back to reality, I nearly scream. The pain is crushing me, destroying me. It presses on my chest, grinding the broken bones into a bitter mash. I can see the blood, it runs from every wound in my body, slowly running down my arm....to the tips of my fingers....onto the floor....the puddle beside the gurney wheel shows I’ve been this way for no short time. I can feel the blood running freely from the side of my mouth, leaving a bloody streak across my face.....

Then it hits me.

I’m dead.

A fiery wave of pain washed over me, my body jerking with every wave of forced energy. I’m watching from behind this window, looking on as the doctors and nurses frantically do everything they can to revive me. But I can’t do it. I can’t go back. I turn away slowly from the window, walking from my body, from the hospital, from the halls, from the screams. From the pain.

I see him. Michael. He’s standing there, living art. I smile, running towards him. I stop when I don’t seem to be getting any closer to him. I call his name, reach for him. But he turns away, begins to walk on the horizon. I scream for him, dropping to my knees after a moment of frantic running. He doesn’t even look back, just walks onward to the horizon. I bow my head, sobbing freely. Tears run through my fingers, puddling on my skin and the ground, leaving me cold and alone in a strange place. I weep bitterly, bound to the earth until it is my time.

Rising, I numbly make my way back to the near lifeless body on the gurney, staring at my own broken body. Standing over myself, I scream repeatedly. “Live! Live, damn it, LIVE!” I raise my hand, bringing it down in a swift slap. The body makes no response, other than a slight heave of the chest. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I force myself to live, force myself to take a breath.

I have yet another day to live