Yet another monotonus day. That’s what Sam was thinking anyways. No time for the hottest sales at the mall. Working three shitty part-time jobs was her only option in life right now. She wasn’t the least bit happy to be home to her cramp and messy apartment, however, She was eternally grateful for her king-sized mattress that felt like sleeping on a cumulous cloud. In fact, at this part of her young adult life, being on that “dream cloud” was the best part of her whole day everyday. It had been a gift for Sam from her long-term boyfriend, Rez Hyde before he was arrested.
Red and blue lights stirred commotion throughout the sleeping community as Rez was handcuffed and thrown into the backseat of a cop car. To watch that happened tore Sam to shreds inside and out. Although sad, alone, and heartbroken, it didn’t brake her will. She spent day and night devoted to earning the money for Hyde’s bail.
“Coco!” Sam cried as her little pug rushed to his master. “How are you my little man?” She got down on her knees, hugging the dog tightly like she would with Rez. Coco continued to get attention via kisses and being petted while talked to in an adorable voice made by her owner. She let go of her furry friend after a few more minutes of affection before relaxing. Kicking her shoes off, she hit the soft mattress with her body, immediately beginning to sink like a cannonball as it hit the water.
“This has to be the longest week of my life,” she complained to Coco as he jumped on the bed. Work was taking its toll on her physically. Her golden hair was uncared for causing split ends and even dreading. Stress had transformed her beautiful face into a home for severe acne and wrinkles. Even her body suffered, neglecting to do her usual routine of long walks and watching exercising videos. She had more weight than any young women would care to have. In layman’s terms, she was not pretty. But beauty would not help rescue Rez from behind bars. So she had to continue saving money until she could afford to bail out her troublesome boyfriend.
“Where are you?” She was digging inside her purse for her cigarettes until she found a half-smoked cig from earlier in the day. She lit it up and inhaled, the stale taste of menthol filling up in her mouth as quickly as she blew it out. With so much distance from her encarserated lover, she had re-learned what it meant to be a “smoker”. The menthol was extinguished after the orange ember neared the filter. With her cigarette done and Coco already asleep on the foot of her bed, she decided it was time to end the day with a much needed and rewarding slumber.
The sound of thunder woke Sam up from a very deep sleep. She peeked through the shades, but saw nothing but darkness outside. As soon as she tried to go back to sleep, thunder crashes and obliterates the silence.
“I won’t get any sleep at this rate,” she complained to herself. Sam shuffled for her alarm clock to find out the time. Odd. She remembered that it was roughly eleven o’ clock when she decided to hit the hay. But the clock still read eleven. “Very peculiar.” She assumed that the batteries were dead then puts the clock down. Now she reached for her phone inside her purse. When she found her cell, the time read eleven as well. “This is getting to be very weird indeed.” The clock on the wall had fresh batteries, she remembered. When Sam tried turning on the lights, nothing happened. She tried again, and still it was dark. She tried a third time; not even a flicker.
Whenever she tried going back to sleep, thunder roared, and each time it roared louder than the last. She was in need of a cigarette right about now, but to Sam’s surprise her lighter didn’t work. She literally bought the lighter two days ago, and now it works about as well as a dead one. “Fuck,” she cried, throwing the useless lighter across the room. She couldn’t sleep, turn on the lights, or even give herself cancer. Dead silent and dark all around.
“You really shouldn’t be smoking,” a voice uttered. Sam’s heart jumped to the sound of the voice. What freaked her out most was the fact that the voice was near. As near as her bed in fact.
“Whose there?!” she screamed in the dark, holding her blanket tightly as though it were a weapon. The voice responded, “Down here, stupid.” Sam looked to the foot of her bed to see Coco standing and talking.
“Hi,” said Coco, waving at Sam. Seeing her dog speaking casued a murderous shriek to pry from Sam’s throat.
“Ahh,” cried the dog, “easy bitch, I have delicate drums in my head.” The screaming continued until Coco gagged her with his paw. “Now are you gonna stop with the screaming as soon as I let go?” She nodded. “Good.” Coco removed his paw from her mouth.
“How are you talking?” She admitedly was still freaked out but kept a good enough cool to articulate speech. Coco did not respond. “This has to be a dream.”
“Got that right,” Coco winked. Sam had a confused look on her face for a minute before putting the pieces together. Curious, she pinched her arm hard, but could not feel her fingers gripping tightly on her skin. “Ah, come on. You can do better than that.” Sam then slapped herself across the face a few times, and didn’t feel a thing; it didn’t even leave a handprint on her face. “Try this on for size.” A dastard grin formed on Coco’s face. He then got up on his hind legs, walking towards her. “Vanquish the non-believer!” he cried multiple times as he back-handed Sam across the face.
“You son of a bi*ch,” Sam cried, soothing the imaginary pain on her face with her flat palm.
“Please, do not bring my mother into this. I don’t think she could take the criticism.” that same old smirk was still latched on Coco’s face. Something unspeakable crept in Sam’s “idea box,” but then she realized something incredibly important.
“Holy s*it!” she cried. “I’m in a dream!” She tingled with excitement and wonder when she came to that realization.
“Of course it’s a dream,” Coco’s eyes rolled, “would I be talking if it weren’t?” Sam sneered at her mouthy dog.
“Do you wanna go back to not talking?” she countered. Coco immediately backed off. He didn’t want to upset his master, especially in a realm where all things were possible.
Sam looked around her shanty apartment. Boy, was it a mess. Cluter on the floors and dishes piled passed the limits of the sink. “This place could defiantly use a makeover.” In an instant, the room began to clean itself. Trash was throwing itself into trash bags while the dishes were cleaning and putting themselves away. In a matter of seconds, the room was spotless.
“Anything else you want?” asked Coco, curiously tilting his head.
“Yeah, stop rubbing your ass on my bed.” Coco immedeatly stopped driving his bottom onto his master’s mattress. Her place was clean, but there was more she thought she could change. Like her appearance.
She looked hard at herself in the mirror. Strands of hair stuck together like fingers stuck between glue. Crows feet as big as actual crow’s feet. Her face sheltered countless blemishes from blackheads as dark as space to pimples that ranged like mountains. “I’m such a mess,” she said to herself. Sam’s eyes briefly closed. She tried to imagine what she looked like before Rez went to jail, and she was happy. Her eyes opened to see not an ugly duckling, but a beautiful swan. No, not a swan. A goddess. Her long, golden hair shined like gold shined in the eyes of a greedy prospector. Her face looked as though an atom bomb obliterated the filth off her face, leaving the remains of perfect skin. Teeth once stained yellow were now christened with whiteness and sparkled in the light. She blushed crimson, smiling big and happy like she did when she was around her lover.
“But that’s not all you want,” said Coco. He knew deep down what his master really desired, and it wasn’t a clean place or beautiful skin. “Go for it.” Sam nodded, and thought hard.
Speedy taps echoed throughout the room coming from the door. Sam’s heart sank, when a husky voice from behind the door said, “Baby, can I come in?” She knew that voice anywhere, so she rushed to the door, tearing it from its hinges. “Hi,” said Rez.
Rez was a big and brawny, carrying as much weight as a teenage bear. He wore thin, black glasses over his blue eyes. His cheeks were rosy while his yellow hair was short and curly. On the bottom of his arm, a tattoo read, “Live for the future,” in cursive hand-writing. Sam had remembered the day he got that tattoo from a local tattoo artist up the road.
“Oh my God!” cried Sam. Tears leaked from her eyes like water pouring from a spout. She gripped him so tightly it felt like they were one again. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“I know,” he said, returning the hug. “I miss you too.” That phrase rung in her head. As real as all of this seemed to her, it was all just an illusion. She knew her man wasn’t bracing her, or that her Coco could speak. She knew this was a dream, but didn’t care. This felt real, and that was a whole lot richer than seeming real.
__END__
