Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to
imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any
personal knowledge about their private lives.
Author's Notes: This story came about to cope with the loss
of AFC Championship game against the Bengals.
The Chiefs had a complete meltdown in the second half. They lost to themselves. Can't wait for the new season of
Football. To send author comments and
feedback, please email nsaphrodite@outlook.com
Interlude II
Three quick bursts of flashing lights sound off in succession.
I been living in a bad dream
I been living in a bad, bad dream
Sleepwalking through a sad scene
I been living in a bad, bad dream
There is controlled chaos of stampeding rush, but he doesn't
run. He walks. He's sleepwalking through a sad scene when his bright white
sneakers bleed red.
I been living in a bad dream
I been living in a bad, bad dream
Sleepwalking through a sad scene
I been living in a bad, bad dream
Ruby red lips tremble and ocean eyes fill with tears.
I been living in a bad dream
I been living in a bad, bad dream
Sleepwalking through a sad scene
I been living in a bad, bad dream
There's another burst of light. Terror emanates from golden
brown eyes.
"Travis!"
He feels the burn searing his flesh. He falls
down. His heart is beating out of his chest. He doesn't want to die. Not
now. No here stuck in this never-ending nightmare. He starts the count, again.
He has to get out of this bad dream.
1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.
He shoots up in bed and grabs his arm. He feels the pulsing
phantom pain. He hurts like hell. He's counting, again, in silence.
1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.
It doesn't help. He's shaking violently. He's now clutching
his heart, screaming in profanity laced pain.
"Travis!" It's Kayla. She pushes him back onto the bed,
climbing on top of him. "Babe, what's going on? You're scaring me," she cries,
trying to calm him down. He can't stop
shaking. He pushes her off him and throws himself to the floor, landing on his
left arm, exacerbating the pain. She jumps off the bed and gathers him in her
arms, rocking him. "Babe, you're okay. You're going to fine."
"Okay?!" Travis yells at her. "Do I fuckin'
look like I'm okay?! I've been stuck in this fuckin'
nightmare for days now. I'm so afraid to go to sleep because I never know if
I'll ever wake up in the morning. I'm so fucked up in
the head right now you don't even know."
"Travis, please," Kayla pleads with him to calm down.
He doesn't. He grabs the digital clock on the nightstand and
lets out a guttural scream. It's fucking thirteen
minutes and thirteen seconds past midnight. He flings it across the room and
does the same with the nightstand. Kayla grabs him to stop him from vandalizing
more of the hotel's properties. He pushes her out of the way
and she hits her head on the nightstand. When she turns around, he sees blood
trickling from a small gash on her forehead. He rushes towards her.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes.
She pushes him away and darts for the door. He runs after her.
He slams the door shut, trapping her inside.
"Where are you going?"
"Away from you, Travis! I'm leaving you, asshole!"
She screams at him as tears continue well in her eyes. He takes a few steps back.
"Don't ever call me back. We're done!"
And she leaves. Travis trudges back to his bed and collapses
onto the bed. Eyes wide open, he stays awake. He's never going to sleep, again;
fearful he won't wake up.
nsaphrodite@outlook.com