So I’m going to be doing NaNoWriMo this year (and if you don’t know what it is check it out at http://nanowrimo.org). I’ve already started creating characters and plots and such and last night I had a dream about my novel. Funny thing is even though I’ve got stuff planned I don’t actually have a start to it. It’s like Stephanie Meyer said when asked about where Twilight came from. She said she had a dream about the meadow scene and felt complied to write it out. Which is what I’m going to do for you here. I really liked the dream I had so instead of hopping I’ll remember it I’m going to write it out.
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It was getting to be unbearable. He had been living with this grief for five years now and frankly he had enough. On his way home from work he stopped at the liquor store and picked up a bottle of vodka, tequila and some rum. His goal was to drown the memory of Sophie out of his head with as much alcohol as possible. He parked his car and slowly stepped out. Even the house was getting to be a bit much for him. There was so much there that reminded him of her but he wasn’t willing to get rid of it no matter how much it hurt him.
As he walked up the walkway he cracked open the tequila taking two big gulps and then shuddering as he remembered how much he hated the taste. “This is gotta be bad” he muttered to himself fumbling for his house key. “If I’m willing to down this shit then I MUST be going insane”. He kicked open the door and threw down his briefcase. Shoes came next kicking them into the closet followed by the tossing of his coat. He swigged some more tequila deciding he was going to get the nasty shit out of the way first.
On his way to the den he saw pictures of her hanging on the wall. ‘She was beautiful’ he thought taking yet another swig of filth. ‘What was someone like that doing with someone like me?’ He asked himself that every day before her death and after all he could ask himself was ‘why wasn’t I there to save her?’
Quite buzzed, he decided he would go into their room. He hadn’t set foot in there in the five years she was gone, opting to instead sleep in the guest room or on the couch. He slowly opened the door. Her smell wafted towards him as though she had just been in the room. He felt like crying but instead of doing so he took another chug of tequila. He sat on the edge of the bed running his hand over her pillow. “God I miss her” he slurred “she was my world and now what do I have to live for?” He stumbled towards the closet this time throwing the doors open as though he were pressed for time and didn’t know what to wear. Again her sweet smell tickled his nose. He ran his hands over the plethora of fabrics, flashes of memories seeped into his booze soaked mind.
“You know, all this drinking isn’t going to bring her back Jax.” spoke a sultry voice from behind the closet doors. “However I know of a way to do just that if you are willing to listen and cooperate.” The man to whom the voice belonged to stepped into Jax line of vision just as he was haphazordly spinning around. “Who the fuck are you?” Jax started to bellow. “And how the fuck did you get into my fucking house?” Jax reached out to push the man but he was too drunk and the stranger was too fast. Jax tumbled forward almost knocking the man down. “Oh dear. See what drinking does? It makes you stupid. Although they DO say you do stupid things during the grieving process. This however has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen, and trust me babe I’ve seen enough.” The stranger set Jax on the foot of the bed. He started pacing the room his Converse squeaking on the hard wood floor. Jax noticed that he was well too well dressed to be wearing Converse. He wore a black suite with a white undershirt and tie. Jax also noticed the man’s hair wasn’t gray so much as it was white, and not platinum blond ether but pure white.
“Now Jax my boy, let us get the trifle introductions out of the way shall we? My name is Michael, and I am here to grant you…hmm…not a wish. How about giving you a second chance. Ah yes. I like that better. Granting you a wish makes me sound like a Genie and there is NO way you are going to get this beautiful hair in a turban.” At this statement he whipped his ponytail off his shoulder. “Anyway back to business. You recently lost your fiance right?” Jax stood up. “What do you know about the people who killed Sophie? Tell me now wile you still can.” Michael placed a hand on Jax chest and pushed gently causing him to fall backwards onto the bed. “Listen buddy. You are in no place to make demands like that. Specially seeing as I am here to do you a favor. Now are we going to play nice?” Jax grunted as he sat up mummbling “yeah sure whatever.” Michael clapped his hands like a child who just got a shiny new toy chirping “goodie. Now listen. what I’m about to say is going to sound crazy but hear me out. I am here to offer you the chance to go back in time to save Sophie. I don’t expect you to understand that right now, but it’s true. You can go back. You can save her. You just have to do exactly as I say because this is going to get tricky.” he got right into Jax face before saying “are you listening?” “I’m listening but I don’t believe a single word you’re saying. You’re the tequila talking.” ‘Nooooo if I was the tequila I’d be speaking Spanish. ANYWAY if you are interested you can go back and save her. There’ll be consequences because you are going back a little too far in time but those are things you are going to have to live with. Everything about you and your life and the lives of others will change if you bring Sophie back. Hell she might not even love you anymore. Are you willing to risk everything you have to save her?”
Jax sat there quiet for a moment. Was he actually willing to change the very world he lived in to save Sophie? What if she did in fact end up hating him, or worse what if HE hated HER? Unfortunately the booze was clouding his better judgment. “Lets do it.” He said after a long pause. “Are you one trillion percent sure?” Michael asked looking a bit grim. “Never been more sure in my life.” Jax said. “Well then get off you ass and lets go”. Michael proclaimed giving Jax his hand. “Um how are we going to go into the past?” Jax asked. “Maybe I am like a Gene in the fact that I got a little magic up my sleeves. We walk through your bedroom door and BAM five years into the past we go. You ready?”
Jax slowly stood up from the bed. “I was born ready.”
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Kay so that may not have been EXACTLY how the dream went but I do remember Jax being a twat and Michael was a bit more funny. Oh well. Funny how dreams and things change when you write them out. I’m tired now so this’ll be it for now. If anyone reads this I’ll post my NaNo updates here.
XOXO
