Part IX
How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can't define what I'm after
I always turn the car around
All that I feel is the realness I'm faking
Taking my time but it's time that I'm wasting
Always turn the car around
X
Nineteen. She counted nineteen tiles on her bathroom floor. Her notebook laid haphazardly on the ground.
“I’m going crazy,” she muttered. She was starting to get claustrophobic, and it had been about five hours since she got off the phone with Dean. She never wanted to see salt again and when this was all over she would redecorate the bathroom.
She stared at her notebook, at the pictures she drew. She wasn’t an artist but the vividness of her dream was reflected on the paper. On the next few pages was the speech that she would give Dean about everything. She had a list of all the possible “things” that tried to kill her downstairs. Zombies, Ghosts, Shape shifters. And somehow she thought she put all the weird stuff behind her.
X
“Not much, about an hour and a half. Are you sure you don’t want me to take over, you’ve been driving for a long time,” Sam offered. He could tell that Dean was about to go crazy. He hasn’t seen Dean think this much in a long time. “She’s fine.”
“Yeah, what did your psychic powers tell you that,” he bit out. He needed to see for himself that she was okay. Dean didn’t want to admit but she meant a lot to him, she was ranking up there with Sam and the Impala.
“She’ll be fine,” Sam repeated.
X
I wanted to go back to sleep. My eyes were failing to stay open and my brain was beginning to shut down. I gave into sleep and this time the dream wasn’t a nightmare…it was a memory.
Flashback
June 2002- Day before the Wedding
I pushed the cart to the next room. My feet were hurting as usual and my headache wasn’t getting any better. I’ve been saving up for the day. I hated working being a maid but it was better than waitressing. I don’t know maybe it was just being here that made me miserable or the thought that I’m getting married tomorrow. I slowly approached room six, I inserted my key not even bothering to knock.
He was sitting at the small table in the corner of the room, flipping through the classifieds. “Liz.”
“So, how’s the job search?” I asked sarcastically. Max had a job as a bus boy at the diner we worked at…up until two days ago when he punched a customer because he touched my arm.
He sighed, “I don’t get why you’re still mad at me. We’re getting married tomorrow. I’ve been sleeping in the same room with Michael for days.”
“I’m mad because you went all cavemen on him, I’m not your property and last time I checked I can defend myself,” I fumed walking into the bathroom. He followed me in there and practically pinned me to the wall.
“You used to like it when I defended you…sometimes I think that you’ve changed,” he murmured. I wanted to roll my eyes.
“Maybe I’ve changed, is that such a bad thing?”
“No, I guess not. I just really miss you and I miss sleeping next to you at night,” Max whispered.
“You know I’m going to love you for forever.”
I nodded, as he began to kiss my lips.
Forever?
