Categories > Celebrities > Green Day > Kiss The Demons Out Of My Dreams
I was in a city that I didn’t recognize. People were rushing around me, some of them were screaming. I spun around to meet the shocked faces. I looked at the people running down the sidewalk.
“What’s going on?” I called out.
They continued to run, as if they didn’t hear me.
I followed the mass of people to see what all of this was about.
There was a truck stopped in the middle of the road. I shoved my way past some people and looked at what everyone else was staring at.
There was a woman sitting on her knees in the middle of the street. Her black-blue hair was a messy wreck. Her hands and black dress were covered in blood. She was leaning over what looked like a man. She moved to see if the person was breathing and I felt my entire body go numb.
It was me. I was lying there, motionless in the middle of the street.
The woman let out a cry of despair as she clutched my body. I felt warmth go across my upper body. I let my hand travel to my chest, but didn’t take my eyes off of the two of us.
“Call 911!” She screamed. He voice was in a panic, but at the same time it had a soft tone to it. “Please, someone call it!” Her voice cracked near the end of the sentence. A sob escaped her lips. “Billie!”
“I’m alright!” I called from where I was standing. “I’m right over here! Look!”
“Billie Joe! Open your eyes!” She cried as if she didn’t hear me. “Please, Billie! I love you! I need you here with me! Please, please don’t go!”
She still sobbed. No one did anything. They all just continued to stare at the scene.
Blood started to leak into a pool on the ground beneath both of us. I stared at my lifeless body and then looked that the woman who was holding it.
“Somebody. Do. Something!” She screamed and went to turn around.
"Shit!"
I bolted up straight in my bed. Sweat was making its way from my forehead down the rest of my face. I felt my arms, my legs, and chest. I was alive.
“Oh fuck.” I mumbled, flopping down onto the bed.
Night after night, I had a dream like this. Some nights, like this one, I saw my lifeless body and that same woman’s back and strange colored hair. I never saw her face in any of the dreams, not once. I was starting to wonder if I should lay off the joints for a little bit.
Those weren’t the only dreams that her backside appeared in. I saw her standing on the edge of a building, or bridge often. I’d yell for her. I didn’t say her name; I’d only yell ‘Stop!’ or ‘Please don’t do this!’ Every time she went to turn around, I’d wake up.
I did have one other dream. However, I’ve only had it once.
She had been crying. I tried to talk to her, but she just continued to cry. She starred to walk away. I had yelled after her. She told me that I had ruined everything. Then, she walked away; and I felt the emptiest feeling in the world. Even after my eyelids had opened.
From what I could tell, she was a few inches shorter than me. Her long black hair had a blue tint to it and reached about two inches below her underarms. Her voice was soft, even when she was crying or angry. Her body was petite and she wore tight jeans that made what few curves she had stand out.
“Who are you?” I mumbled as I rolled over onto my side. “Who in the world are you?
“What’s going on?” I called out.
They continued to run, as if they didn’t hear me.
I followed the mass of people to see what all of this was about.
There was a truck stopped in the middle of the road. I shoved my way past some people and looked at what everyone else was staring at.
There was a woman sitting on her knees in the middle of the street. Her black-blue hair was a messy wreck. Her hands and black dress were covered in blood. She was leaning over what looked like a man. She moved to see if the person was breathing and I felt my entire body go numb.
It was me. I was lying there, motionless in the middle of the street.
The woman let out a cry of despair as she clutched my body. I felt warmth go across my upper body. I let my hand travel to my chest, but didn’t take my eyes off of the two of us.
“Call 911!” She screamed. He voice was in a panic, but at the same time it had a soft tone to it. “Please, someone call it!” Her voice cracked near the end of the sentence. A sob escaped her lips. “Billie!”
“I’m alright!” I called from where I was standing. “I’m right over here! Look!”
“Billie Joe! Open your eyes!” She cried as if she didn’t hear me. “Please, Billie! I love you! I need you here with me! Please, please don’t go!”
She still sobbed. No one did anything. They all just continued to stare at the scene.
Blood started to leak into a pool on the ground beneath both of us. I stared at my lifeless body and then looked that the woman who was holding it.
“Somebody. Do. Something!” She screamed and went to turn around.
"Shit!"
I bolted up straight in my bed. Sweat was making its way from my forehead down the rest of my face. I felt my arms, my legs, and chest. I was alive.
“Oh fuck.” I mumbled, flopping down onto the bed.
Night after night, I had a dream like this. Some nights, like this one, I saw my lifeless body and that same woman’s back and strange colored hair. I never saw her face in any of the dreams, not once. I was starting to wonder if I should lay off the joints for a little bit.
Those weren’t the only dreams that her backside appeared in. I saw her standing on the edge of a building, or bridge often. I’d yell for her. I didn’t say her name; I’d only yell ‘Stop!’ or ‘Please don’t do this!’ Every time she went to turn around, I’d wake up.
I did have one other dream. However, I’ve only had it once.
She had been crying. I tried to talk to her, but she just continued to cry. She starred to walk away. I had yelled after her. She told me that I had ruined everything. Then, she walked away; and I felt the emptiest feeling in the world. Even after my eyelids had opened.
From what I could tell, she was a few inches shorter than me. Her long black hair had a blue tint to it and reached about two inches below her underarms. Her voice was soft, even when she was crying or angry. Her body was petite and she wore tight jeans that made what few curves she had stand out.
“Who are you?” I mumbled as I rolled over onto my side. “Who in the world are you?
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