Flynn's End - A Nightmare
The sun glints off the large shiny curved blade in the hands of a monstrous person, hooded, masked. The air is still, stale, unmoving. Nothing emits any sound. Not even my breathing. Not even my thoughts. Everything is white, a blinding white, a forever kind of empty. Except for the sun, glinting off the large shiny curved blade in the hands of a monstrous person, hooded, masked. And Flynn. He is there, kneeling behind a white block. He’s so far away. I start running, but no amount of running closes the distance between us. The white expanse keeps growing infinitely and yet none at all. An invisible force pushes his head down against the block. My ears ring but there is no sound. Tears blur my vision as I reach out for him, running towards him. He’s so far away.
The sun glints off the large shiny curved blade in the hands of a monstrous person, hooded, masked. Why does the sun reflect so harshly off that blade? The blade doesn’t deserve the sun. Flynn deserves the sun. He is the sun. Why has his God forsaken him? He is the sun.
Everything is white. The air is still, stale, unmoving. Nothing emits any sound. Not even my breathing. Not even the constant ringing in my ears. My mind is blank, filled with the same burning white that is around me, that is around Flynn, that is around that monstrous person. I keep running towards him, maybe I’ll reach him, maybe. Maybe. My mind is blank. Then it races. My own voice pierces through the barriers of my skull, causing immense pain in my head, enough to cripple me, but I keep running. I keep reaching for him. I scream trying to drown out my own voice, but my inner voice is too strong, too loud, too painful.
PULL HIM. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. PULL HIM.
I reach out for him. Let me reach him.
PULL HIM! PULL HIM! PULL HIM!
The sun glints off the large shiny curved blade as it descends. My heart stops. The world stops. I am still running but the distance does not grow shorter. The white expanse keeps growing infinitely and yet none at all. I reach out for him, both arms extended, my hands clenching and unclenching. I can reach him. Maybe. Maybe. Let me reach him.
SAVE HIM! PULL HIM! SAVE HIM! STOP! STOP!
Then abrupt silence. My inner voice is silent. The pain is gone. I feel nothing. I am nothing. The sun no longer glints off the blade. The sun is gone. It has forsaken this white nothingness. I fall to my knees, screaming into the silence. I stare at my hands, opening and closing in front of me, still reaching out to grab him, but I feel nothing. I am nothing. There is nothing.
My vision turns hazy as the tears flow freely. They streak down my cheeks and fall into nothingness. Into the white, empty expanse. A waterfall of tears. The shape of the block, the shape of the executioner’s feet appear in front of me. They are but blurry outlines, but my heart knows what they are. Flynn’s head is in my arms, lifeless, devoid of everything. No sun off his fur. No softness to his fur. His golden coat fading into white. Flynn’s head is in my arms and I scream. There is no face. I cannot see his face! I cannot see anything.
I cannot see them. I can feel them. Eyes. There are eyes everywhere. Looking. Watching. Waiting. They’ve always been there. Looking. Watching. Waiting. Trained on me. Always. Looking. Watching. Waiting. Flynn’s head is in my arms, lifeless, devoid of everything. My tears fall on his blank face as I rock back and forth, screaming into the white empty.
White flowers bloom from the empty. They sprout first around me, then like a giant petals unfurling, the entire expanse is filled with gorgeous white flowers. I am kneeling in a vast field of beautiful white flowers, all the flowers I have ever seen, as far as the eye can see. A gentle and kind breeze blows through my fur and my hair. There is a sweetness in the air. Home. A feeling of safety and familiarity. Home. There is no sound. I look up, tears still streaming down my face, vanishing before they hit the flowers caressing my legs. I wipe them away. A white gazebo appears in front of me, in what should be the center of the infinite field. My body yearns for it, aches for it. I recognize it. Home. Shaking, I stand. A feeling of safety and familiarity. Home. But I am alone. The sun glints off the large shiny curved blade. It was all a dream. A nightmare! The tears dry up. A gentle and kind breeze blows through my fur and hair. There is a sweetness in the air. Home. Flynn. Flynn is here. He will be here. He will be there, sleeping, curled up on the bench, fresh dirt on his nose, under the gazebo. Shakingly, my feet move without any thought. The flowers part as I head towards the gazebo. Home. Flynn. I keep telling him not to sleep on the job. He’ll get yelled at! What if he doesn’t get permission to come back next year, to tend the gardens, to run and hide with me? I see him! Flynn! Home. His beautiful shiny blond coat and his dirt covered clothes. The sun makes him glow. He is here. Flynn is here. Home. Safe. He is here. Alive. Breathing. I reach out for him. The sun isn’t on him. His coat, it’s not the sun shining. Something is wrong. I reach out for him. My mind is blank. Then it races. My own voice pierces through the barriers of my skull, causing immense pain in my head, enough to cripple me, but I keep running. I keep reaching for him. I scream trying to drown out my own voice, but my inner voice is too strong, too loud, too painful. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. I reach out for him. Please. Let me reach him. PULL HIM! PULL HIM! PULL HIM! Something is wrong. The sweetness in the air is gone. It is stale. Unmoving. There never was a breeze. His coat. Flynn’s golden coat. Red. TOO LATE! TOO LATE! STOP! STOP! I crumble to my knees, my vision blurry as fresh tears pool at the edges and do not fall. I cannot see anything but red. Red. Red. NOT AGAIN. PLEASE. His face is blank. But that is Flynn. That is my Flynn. I reach out for him but he is too far away. I can’t touch him. He is too far away! I am in the middle of the flowers. Red! I never made it to the gazebo. Red. There is nothing but red. The white flowers are stained red. The gazebo bleeds. I fall to my knees in the field of red, screaming. There is no sound. I face towards the sky, I don’t - I can’t - see any more red. Rivers flow from my eyes down into the flowers. They absorb my tears and darken, until everything is white, a blinding white, a forever kind of empty. White flowers bloom from the empty. They sprout first around me, then like a giant petals unfurling, the entire expanse is filled with gorgeous white flowers. I am kneeling in a vast field of beautiful white flowers, all the flowers I have ever seen, as far as the eye can see. A gentle and kind breeze blows through my fur and my hair. There is a sweetness in the air. Home. A feeling of safety and familiarity. Home...
///
White flowers bloom from the empty. They sprout first around me, then like a giant petals unfurling, the entire expanse is filled with gorgeous white flowers. I am kneeling in a vast field of beautiful white flowers, all the flowers I have ever seen, as far as the eye can see. A gentle and kind breeze blows through my fur and my hair. There is a sweetness in the air. Home. A feeling of safety and familiarity. Home. There is no sound. I look up, tears still streaming down my face, vanishing before they hit the flowers caressing my legs. I wipe them away. A white gazebo appears in front of me, in what should be the center of the infinite field. My body yearns for it, aches for it. I recognize it. Home. Shaking, I stand. A feeling of safety and familiarity. Home. But I am alone. The sun glints off the large shiny curved blade. It was all a dream. A nightmare! The tears dry up. A gentle and kind breeze blows through my fur and hair. There is a sweetness in the air. Home. Flynn. Flynn is here. He will be here. He will be there, sleeping, curled up on the bench, fresh dirt on his nose, under the gazebo. Shakingly, my feet move without any thought. The flowers part as I head towards the gazebo. Home. Flynn. I keep telling him not to sleep on the job. He’ll get yelled at! What if he doesn’t get permission to come back next year, to tend the gardens, to run and hide with me? I see him! Flynn! Home. His beautiful shiny blond coat and his dirt covered clothes. The sun makes him glow. He is here. Flynn is here. Home. Safe. He is here. Alive. Breathing. I reach out for him. The sun isn’t on him. His coat, it’s not the sun shining. Something is wrong. I reach out for him. My mind is blank. Then it races. My own voice pierces through the barriers of my skull, causing immense pain in my head, enough to cripple me, but I keep running. I keep reaching for him. I scream trying to drown out my own voice, but my inner voice is too strong, too loud, too painful. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. PULL HIM. I reach out for him. Please. Let me reach him. PULL HIM! PULL HIM! PULL HIM! Something is wrong. The sweetness in the air is gone. It is stale. Unmoving. There never was a breeze. His coat. Flynn’s golden coat. Red. TOO LATE! TOO LATE! STOP! STOP! I crumble to my knees, my vision blurry as fresh tears pool at the edges and do not fall. I cannot see anything but red. Red. Red. NOT AGAIN. PLEASE. His face is blank. But that is Flynn. That is my Flynn. I reach out for him but he is too far away. I can’t touch him. He is too far away! I am in the middle of the flowers. Red! I never made it to the gazebo. Red. There is nothing but red. The white flowers are stained red. The gazebo bleeds. I fall to my knees in the field of red, screaming. There is no sound. I face towards the sky, I don’t - I can’t - see any more red. Rivers flow from my eyes down into the flowers. They absorb my tears and darken, until everything is white, a blinding white, a forever kind of empty. White flowers bloom from the empty. They sprout first around me, then like a giant petals unfurling, the entire expanse is filled with gorgeous white flowers. I am kneeling in a vast field of beautiful white flowers, all the flowers I have ever seen, as far as the eye can see. A gentle and kind breeze blows through my fur and my hair. There is a sweetness in the air. Home. A feeling of safety and familiarity. Home...
Comments