Just a Dream

     The television screen flickered wildly, as Ben scrolled haphazardly through streaming services. It was always hard to find a new show to watch, but he was determined to do just that. Camille never really liked the kinds of shows he watched. Pain filtered through his fingers as he stood flicking through sitcoms, dramas, and documentaries so fast his head began to spin, the colors blurring together in a tapestry of boredom and disappointment. He didn’t know what the shows were, but he knew none of them were right. Nothing was right. 

“Just pick something already,” Camille chided from the couch, “You’re not getting any younger”

The flickering slowed as Ben landed on a sitcom. An old sitcom, about dating, break ups, love, and friendships. He hated those shows. They were fake. So painfully fake. Camille seemed delighted by the choice however, so reluctantly he pressed play.

A laugh track permeated the air as Ben sat next to Camille on the couch. They watched as the people on screen talked, and laughed. A chorus of laughter  accompanied their every movement. The laughing was incessant, and Ben knew nothing could possibly be that funny. He sighed, at least Camille enjoyed it, he thought so anyway, she never spoke as he leaned his head to lay on her shoulder.

He was falling. He must have missed her shoulder, as the air streaming past, roared in his ears. The arm of the couch approached quickly, as his eyes widened in fear. 

His head hit the side of the couch with a thud. Pain shaking his senses fully awake. Rubbing his neck he searched for Camille, but he knew he wouldn’t find her. She had left. Disappeared. Just like she did every night.

Why does this keep happening to me?

She would be back though, Ben knew. She always came back. Ben pulled his blanket close, and let the cold glare of the TV wash over him, as raucous laughter filled his empty apartment. 

She’ll be back

Ben came home from work the same time he always did. At least he thought so, although he couldn’t really ever remember leaving. Did he even have a job anymore? He didn’t know.

Ben laid down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, letting his eyes drift out of focus.

“You can’t keep doing this,”

Ben looked over to see Camille lying next to him.

The tinkering of a piano filled the room, as Ben walked into the living room, to see her, breathtaking and beautiful, standing on the stage. 

The lights dimmed as a spotlight illuminated her glittery red dress. Like a scene from a movie. The kind of movie with cheap beer, and cigarettes. The kind with wanted heroes, and misunderstood villains.

Sunday is gloomy

My hours are slumberless

Dearest the shadows

I live with are numberless

The kind of movie where the good guys always win.

Little white flowers

Will never awaken you

Not where the black coach

Of sorrow has taken you

The kind where he always gets the girl.

Darling, I hope that my dream

Never haunted you

My heart is telling you

How much I wanted you

Gloomy Sunday

Ben walked swiftly unsure of where his legs were going. He exploded with longing, hypnotized and confused . He had to kiss her. He had to love her. He did love her, and he could never stop. He reached out toward her glittering form, ready to whisk her up and away.

Only air greeted his fingertips, the spotlight was gone and so was Camille.

“You can’t keep doing this, Ben” 

Camille stood by the door, a suitcase in hand,  and her winter coat held snug to her shoulder.

“I’m leaving y’know, I have a plane to catch.”

You can’t leave, did I do something wrong?

“I already left, seven years ago. It’s been seven years. You poor bastard. I really can’t stay Ben, my plane leaves in an hour”

But there will be plenty more planes, just stay a little longer, I can be better.

“Poor boy, it won’t make a difference, my plane has already left. It’s waiting for me, I really must be going”

Why are you leaving me?

“I don’t love you Ben, maybe I never did. Maybe I was just too young to know what love was? It hardly matters now. I could be anywhere in the world at this very moment. Seven years is a long time y’know”

…

Where are you going?

“Paris. There was never any room for me here anyway. Best to leave while I’m still young, and beautiful. He really is a good man, y’know. He’ll treat me well, and Paris is a lovely city”

…

…

…

But I love you

“No, Ben” 

…

You’ll be back tomorrow, right? You always come back.

…

…

“No… It’s just a dream. Can’t you tell anymore? You poor, poor bastard.”

Ben had never been to the roof at night before. The stars twinkled, and danced as he sat watching. The sky looked so much closer from up here, a blanket of dark stretched over a broken city. He wondered if he could reach it.

Reaching a hand in the air he grasped for the abyssal fabric, ready to pull it in close to his chest. His fingers grasped desperately at empty air. Perhaps it was just a little higher. It couldn’t be more than a couple feet from his fingertips. 

All he would have to do is jump.

Shimmering white caught his eye, as Camille strolled past onto the dance floor. Had she been invited? Had he? A hand lifted to gesture him over.

“Youre making a mistake, Ben. Go home” 

May I have this dance?

 Her white dress swayed in the wind as he approached. Her hair cascaded around her face, a white crown adorned her head. She lifted her arms, in saintly stature. It was an invitation.

“You can’t keep doing this, Ben” 

Just one dance

“I’m probably landing in Paris right now, I can’t be here”

Just one dance

“This is stupid, GO HOME!” 

Ben only smiled, offering a hand and a small bow.

May I?

…

…

…

“Of course, love”.

She reached out her hand, and was gone. The dance floor, melting into concrete. He watched as the sky seemed to grow closer and closer. He reached up for it, 

He stretched, higher and higher until the tips of his feet were all that kept him down. He could almost feel it. The warmth of the void radiated through his fingertips.

Just a few more inches now.

All he had to do was jump.

“You bastard” 

…

…

“You poor, poor bastard.”