Nočna mora, poglavje 1

Darkness. Absolute darkness, yet I can still make out a form. Is it her? The closer I get the more blurred it gets... But there it is, right infront of me, close enough to touch, close enough to run my fingers down its face, close enough to feel its heat. As my eyes start adjusting to the dark I can see the shape... But the face is still in the dark. A dim light shines from behind me slowly reaching the being infront of me. And then it reaches its face... it's... it's...

Michael woke up sweating as a hand shook him gently from his sleep.
'Sir, are you OK?', a soft voice asked. Turning his head, still half asleep and dopey he saw the stewardess with a worried look on her face. A blonde in her fourties, she seemed like she's been through a lot in her life. Yet the wrinkles on her face told a different story than her eyes, which were as full of life as those of a teenager.
'Can I get you anything, sir? A glass of water, maybe?'
'Well you could get me a beer if you're at it', he grumbled, still shaky from his dream. Who was it? He could remember it clearly all up until the very end, but he couldn't remember the face.

It's just the lack of sleep you twat. That and jet lag. It was just a fucking dream, you're a scientist for god's sake!

He shook his head to clear his thoughts as the stewardess brought him his drink, a smile brighting up her face. The look in her eyes, as innocent and child-like as it may seem told the story of someone who'd much rather be anywhere but there in that moment.
'Thank you, umm... Betty', he said, reading her name tag.
'You're welcome, sir. Just call for me if you need anything'

That smile... There's something wrong with that smile.

Opening up the can of beer he wondered why the hell, with all the technology required to keep a plane in the air, with all the computer systems and the advanced mechanisation, they can't have a fridge on board to keep the drinks cold. He shrugged as he gulped it all down and adjusted his pillow to try and go back to sleep. They were only halfway through the flight and it's gonna be another 4 or 5 hours till he sees her again. Maybe more if she can't make it to the airport. Thankfully their cottage was empty and waiting for them.

It's been 4 months since they were last together and long distance relationships were tough to say the least. Michael was a physicist at the Baltimore University and she was working for an airline company in England, so their meetings were brief but that much more enjoyable. Never a ladies man, Michael was as shy as they get when it came to women. Never about anything else, but there was something about a woman he liked that tied his tongue into a knot and killed his usual cinicysm and shut his mouth. Up until he met her, he didn't really care, he was lost in his own world, self-sufficient yet always depressed for some unknown reason. The reason he didn't know until he met her. By some weird coincidence they started talking online and although he talked to hundreds of people online by then someting just felt different. And before he knew it, they were in love and he was flying over to see her for the first time. A very tame first time, he'd thought, but nevertheless. He was done for, and for the past four years he took up every chance and every excuse he could find to fly over and see her. Yet this time seemed different somehow. There was this uneasy feeling in his stomach that he just couldn't put his finger on...

'Michael, do you know why I'm here?' the faceless figure asked. All I could do was shake my head.
'Sometimes we dream and sometimes we live. Sometimes we love and we don't understand. When we laugh, people cry. And when we scream, people die.'
'Who are you??', I screamed
'We are whoever we have to be. We are whatever you want us to be, whatever you make of us. We are you.'
My heart felt torn to pieces as the face appeared again from the depths...

A loud thud and a jolt to the head woke Michael up, the landing was rough, but at least they were grounded again and he was awake. He stood up and took his bag from his overhead compartement and headed out for the exit. There, greeting the passengers, was Betty again, her face looking a hundred years old in the neon light of the exit passage way, and her eyes those of a five year old.

'Thank you for flying Intercontinential airlines, sir, and remember, if we scream, people die'

Shocked, with eyes open wide, he turned back to the aging stewardess, but all he could see was an ordinary woman in her fourties smiling faintly as she saw the passengers off the plane.

I'm going nuts. None of this is happening, it can't be. I fucking need a drink.

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