Days That Hold On - 1. Story

Days that Hold On

by Jfalkon

It is amazing how many memories a cold hard piece of stone can hold. I ran my hands over the carved monument and time seemed to dissolve. My mind regressed to my college days and played them back like old scratched vinyl records.

I sat on the edge of my bed with my head in my hands listening to my roommate shuffling through papers. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep this up. We’re only five weeks into the semester and I’m dying,” I moaned.

“I told you you’re taking too many classes,” answered my roommate as he continued his search for some misplaced item among his homework and art supplies.

I sat in silence for a few minutes not thinking. I was tired and angry. I had been at the head of my class in high school but college was harder than I thought. To make matters worse my professors seemed to take some dark pleasure in my suffering. I was snapped back to consciousness by my roommate Dylan sitting down on my bed. He looked at me with a smile that showed how much he was enjoying college. He was the rich kid who had come to school to party and to rough it in the dorms.

“You need to relax,” he said holding up a small red pill.

I shook my head. “The last thing I need now is drugs. Engineering isn’t like art. You can’t do it stoned.”

“So, take a break. Look the sun’s setting in a few minutes. The day is going to be over and you won’t get it back. You should have some fun before your chance disappears.”

He left me with those words and took off for another party. I reclined on my bed and let my vision blur as I stared at the ceiling. Dylan’s words stuck with me because I knew there was some truth to them. Maybe he was right and I was letting all the good things pass me by.

The little red pill Dylan left on my nightstand caught my eye. I stared at the little jewel lying there bright as the setting sun outside my window. I picked up the nameless drug and decided to do something desperate and stupid. It burned as it went down my throat as if I had swallowed an ember. I waited to see what its effects would be and suddenly the room started to morph. Turning wicked colors, everything seemed to spin and pulsate to a sound that was everywhere and nowhere. I listened to the rhythms of the wild music that grew stronger by the minute.

I watched mesmerized by the spectrum of colors washing over the whole world. I watched a green sunset fade to a blood red night and I understood what Dylan liked about these strange drugs. Everything looked new and warm and none of my problems could reach my detached brain. My withering grades and my homophobic relatives no longer concerned me. Mom and dad’s desire for grandchildren had all the significance of last year’s snow. I was happy and that was all that mattered. I got up from the bed and began to dance to the music that only I could hear. The colors changed around me and for once in my life I managed to move to a rhythm. I danced in front of the mirror and smiled as my skin and hair turned all the colors of the rainbow.

Then without warning the light show ended. The colors were all gone. Instead of music I only heard the empty sound of my heart beating too fast and too hard. Reality snapped back into sickeningly sharp focus and I felt a loneliness that I had never imagined before. It was literally painful. I could barely get a grip on the new feeling when it was replaced by something much more sinister. Suddenly I knew that I was not alone. I could not see it but something was in the room with me. I looked around the room desperately trying to locate the intruding entity and hoping that I could somehow go unnoticed by it.

Then it showed its terrible self. It was only a dark shadow but it was darker, deeper, and more solid than anything I had ever seen. I felt myself go weak as I tried to escape its faceless stare. It was more real and more awful than anything in my world. Trying with all my strength I could not take my eyes off it as it approached me getting more enormous with each step. There was no running or hiding from it and I was sure it would kill me but somehow I managed to find the strength not to drop to the floor.

Somewhere inside of me I felt angry. I was sick of putting up with everyone’s bad attitudes. I was sick of never measuring up to everyone’s standards and having to live by other people’s rules. When I was young my family made all the decisions. Now that I was in college it was the professors, the administrators, and even the damn meter maids. I was furious and my anger gave me the strength to face this daemon. This time someone else was going to get hurt. I made a fist and hit the monster and then hit him again. He took a step back as I grabbed a textbook off my desk and hit him again. I drove him back a few more steps as I bashed his head with the book that had caused me so much anxiety only an hour ago. He made the mistake of trying to run. I cornered him in the pathetic little kitchen I shared with Dylan. The dark shadow was much less ominous now. Lying on the floor he looked small and even vulnerable. I smiled, dropped the textbook, and grabbed the frying pan. I continued to hit him and his blackness faded. He seemed more human now but that only fueled my rage. I grabbed the big kitchen knife and began to stab him. His blood now covered my hands and I enjoyed the feeling of warm liquid starting to saturate my cloths. I fell to my knees to get closer to my victim as he drew his last breaths.

He was no longer a shadow but a man laying face down in a pool of blood. He had features, cloths, and hair. I turned him over so I could see my defeated enemy’s face. The feeling of victory was short lived because I quickly recognized the shattered face of my roommate. Suddenly I felt sick with horror. I screamed.

I opened my eyes only to realize that I had been asleep but when I looked around I realized that I was not in my bed but on the kitchen floor. Thankfully there was no one on the floor next to me. I got up and was relieved to see the knife and the frying pan in their places. I walked back to the bedroom and found everything as I had left it. The little red pill watched me from the nightstand like a hideous bloodshot eye. I picked it up and threw it in the trash.

Dylan got home safely later that night. We got to be friends over time and even dated for a while. I told him about the dream hoping that he would give up the pills and drinks but he only laughed. Over the years that I knew him I tried to forget the dream but I could not just laugh at it. I was afraid that somehow I would harm him. I had nightmares about it many times but in the end it was the little red pills that took his life.

Dylan believed in seizing the day and living in the moment. I loved that about him but I wish he were here to help me let go of the past.

© 2009 Jfalkon

Story Discussion