In Her Dreams

Slowly, she approached his resting place. A lush green garden growing where his body lay rotting six feet beneath. An assortment of flowers placed around the headstone; the colourful reminder of a bleak event that tore her heart to shreds.

She took her place in front of the grey concrete – like she did every year – feeling the wet and dewy grass beneath her.

He chose to die in the autumn.

An unusually warm day. She hadn’t seen him for a little while, maybe a day or so and he had told her he was thinking about things.

She didn’t know what these ‘things’ were, but she let him have his space.

The space she gave him would mirror the void she felt at this moment.

A deep, dark hole she was spiralling into. A tunnel of thoughts with the light too far away to offer any respite.

His horrid and lonely demise came in the form of his own hand. The painful expiry she was destined to be confronted with. The pleasure of this gruesome discovery would be all hers.

And, every year, she asked him the same question: ‘Why, Adam?’

A pattern repeated. The bitter anniversary of her words.

She would ask him why and then she would cry until she was unable to stop.

Her heart expelling sadness until her tears dried up.

She would reach out to touch his gravestone, a gentle caress. His beautiful face and body, decomposing. The only compensation of this event was his soul still living in her heart.

I miss you, Adam. I miss you so much

She ached for him. She cried and ached and pleaded for him to come back somehow.

And then she would feel a little better.

She would leave the cemetery and wait out the 12 months again.

But today she decided to stay.

Today, she decided to tell him a few things. A dream she’d had the night before.

‘You’re probably going to think I’m making this up – you know, because of what today is about,’

A slight pause; her heart racing. ‘But it was about you,’

She felt sheepish, embarrassed even, as if they had only just met.

It was a lovely dream… a dream that felt so much like reality her heart was aching.

Her mind wandering.

Her soul remembering.

A tantalising sensation.

Her perfect somnambulistic world that was the night before.

She breathed in quickly, swallowing a gasp of air as she recalled every animalistic reaction she felt as he touched her. Kissed her.

A feeling so real she could feel his heart beating against hers.

There wasn’t a moment that his touch didn’t electrify; causing her skin to spark, causing her senses to melt. Sacrificing herself to him –

Do with me what you wish…

‘Touch me…’ She whispered, giving in to her reverie, her tears falling free. ‘Please, please…. touch me…’

Her hands explored her body.

Amongst the dead, in the middle of the day, as she cried and remembered – her hands were feeling, touching, trying to recreate the tender moments like the ones she revived the night before.

With you, Adam…

… and their world grew dim, the soft amber light enveloping their bodies as they explored, devoured, overwhelmed each other.

Adam was holding on to her as if she would fall if he let her go. His hands were all over her, touching her, suffocating her. Her world was spinning… was this still a dream…?

She took a deep breath; closed her eyes – a horrid flush sped through her as if suffering the after effects of too many glasses of wine at dinner.

She stayed silent for a while, letting the dream sink in.

Sink into where, exactly? She didn’t know. Adam was dead and she was talking to a large stone and a pile of turf.

Still, she continued.

Her heart tugged – as if someone plucking the strings of a guitar an triggered another new wave of sobs.

Oh, Adam, I need to look into your eyes again!

She let the tears fall, freeing the sadness lodged deep in her heart. She took a couple of deep breaths, composed herself and continued relaying her dream to her dead lover.

She was lying naked next to his warm body. His breathing was soft, rhythmic. He held her hand, entwined his fingers through hers… he was whispering.

A jumble of words – were they in another language?

I don’t understand… what are you saying? Adam, I don’t understand…

She stared at the headstone, contemplating… and as if suddenly finding the last piece in the puzzle, her thoughts shifted. ‘Is that what you said, Adam? Are you waiting for me?’

She closed her eyes.

A familiar silence calmed her body.

The trees were rustling in the warm, silent breeze. Her skin prickled with goose pimples and she rubbed her arms, feeling unusually cold. She heard a soft rumble in the distance – a storm was brewing.

She didn’t want to say what she had really planned to tell him today. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d been thinking about joining him – wherever he was.

Would they be able to be together again?

The debilitating loneliness she had endured over the past 2 years was so stifling at times it was an effort to live her life.

But would she be able to finally join him? To be together with him again?

Is that how it worked? Was it as simple as that?

Were we the ones in control?

Would we mull it over; choose the place and people we wanted to be with ,choose to die and automatically arrive at our terminus of choice?

Was that it?

If she did decide to go to Adam – even though she didn’t know where he was – would he automatically recognize this and be there –


– to greet her? To take her hand, guide her into that resplendent and magnificent afterlife?

Part of her wanted this; in the sick and twisted Romeo and Juliet kind of way.

And this is why she came prepared – just in case.

Her life had been devastated since the day Adam died. She could not function without her medication. She had ceased to be happy and could not get out of bed without a gentle coaxing (which later had turned aggressive) from her mother. Her life was a big, black hole of nonexistence and there wasn’t anything she looked forward to. There wouldn’t be anything she would look forward to – not with Adam gone forever.

And lately, all she could look forward to was her death.

This wouldn’t be complicated. Nothing toxic. Nothing loud. No guns, poison or rope.

Just a very sharp utility knife that she would drag lengthways up her arm.

They would find her bleeding to death and with any luck, it would be too late.

‘So…. what do I do now Adam? Do I think about where you are? Do I imagine you coming back to ‘get me’? How does this work? Can you tell me?’ She was starting to feel frantic, scared. Shouting.

What if she didn’t see him? What if he couldn’t find her? What if she was destined to spend the rest of her afterlife asleep, forever?

Forever alone.

Suddenly very anxious, she stood, painfully aware of her surroundings. She could feel someone watching her, but there wasn’t anyone else in the graveyard. She wasn’t sure now – of anything.

Was she absolutely stupid for even contemplating this? What about her family, her friends?

Her life?

What about Adam?

The man she missed so much her body ached just thinking about it. The longing for him that she felt every day was growing out of control. It was unbearable. She was desperate to see him again.

To feel him.

This was more than desire.

It was a necessity.

That’s it.

My mind is made up.

On this day, the second year of his death, she decided that she would take her place beside him. She sat back down and this time crossed her legs. She reached for her handbag and located the pocket she had placed the utility knife in. This same utility knife she used for her crafting projects. There were tiny dried globs of glue stuck to the sides of the blade. Why don’t I ever remember to clean this after I finish with it?

She tried to think back to the last time she used it. Oh, yes, of course. Her niece’s birthday present.

A collage of One Direction pictures on a large canvas. She remembered the instructions well: ‘Make sure you get more of Harry and Louis’. She smiled at the memory. Sienna was a beautiful young girl, innocent with prepubescent curiosity. How was she going to react knowing her only auntie had slashed herself to death? But one day, she would be old enough to understand that love can know no boundaries.

No rules.

That sometimes when the heart wants what it wants, logic cannot interfere. Doesn’t love conquer all? In life and in death?

She quickly brought the blade to her wrist, staring at Adams gravestone. Unsure, but sure all at once. A moment of clarity jolted through her –

What the hell are you doing!

– and then Adam appeared before her. She reached out to touch him, still clutching the knife. He did not come forward, but carefully took it from her. ‘Let me help you with that,’

Did he just speak? The first thing he had said in 2 years, but did he actually speak?

Was she dreaming? It felt like she was dreaming.

Their surroundings paled into a bright, soft shade of glorious white.

A forgiving focus.

A warm, enveloping glow… like the one in her dream…

A vacuum.

She watched as he dragged the blade up her left arm. The careful concentration and precision of a master at work.

She watched as if from far away, the blood exiting her body in a wild rush.

He gestured for her right arm and she silently obeyed as if under a trance. She smiled, hoping that this was the beginning of their eternal state of perpetual bliss.

‘Are you happy?’ Adam asked her, smiling. His gaze as strong as ever. Penetrating… just like her dream…

She nodded, unable to speak. Her heart was beating very fast and she felt as if she was falling, spinning. She started to feel nauseous and she clung to his shoulder as if to steady herself. She couldn’t breath – something was caught in her throat. She tried to speak, to call out, to scream, but she couldn’t.

She couldn’t.

She was choking… stifling…

She was falling. Falling.

Spinning and falling.

And then it stopped. It just stopped. She was alone.

She turned, looking for Adam, but she was still surrounded by nothing. A deep, dark, white nothing.

She heard an echo – no one had spoken – but she could hear something far away in the distance.


She turned again, but she was still alone.

An emptiness and void filled her being.

Was she alive?

Where was Adam?

Was she still alive?

She felt a soft touch on her arm.



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