The universe moves fast; faster than anyone ever realizes. But sometimes it slows for moments in time. Those are never the moments you want to to be- your first kiss, your child's first steps, the first time you see the person you love. Those moments fly by and never slow down. But you replay them, sometimes forgetting small details you swore you wouldn't. What color were their eyes? Did your child grab the chair or their toy? What kind of smile did they have on their face? What were they wearing? You say you won't forget these details, but you do. It's normal; it's human. Unfortunately, he was no longer human.
Every moment moved at lightening speed and then crawled in his mind. The Girl was on a stretcher, in the back of an ambulance. In a hospital, people working to save her life. And all he could do was watch. He felt himself float through the walls of the hospital, flying from room to room. This was as bad as when he died, maybe worse. At least he did that. He hated what he did over time, but he did it. He didn't do this. It was a freak accident. It was almost fate. But how could her fate be to just randomly get in an accident? She was just happy and alive. He saw her. Closing his eyes, he sunk down to a chair in her room.
"Hey," he heard a voice call. He looked up. They weren't in the hospital anymore. He didn't know where he was, but it was calm. It was beautiful. He felt guilty because he didn't deserve it. He failed. He looked up.
"Hey," the voice called. It was her. It was The Girl. She was standing before him, almost gliding.
"Are you-?" He stammered, "Are you dead?" She laughed. It sounded like bells. He ached, but he smiled.
"No," she said, "this is just temporary." He looked confused. So she was unconscious and he had slipped into her subconscious. Whatever it was, it was beautiful. She touched his shoulder and frowned, "you know I can't stay here." He nodded. He knew. And he was glad it wasn't forever, but a part of him was saddened. He suddenly felt longing, like he missed her. She stroked his face gently, "I know who you are."
"What?" He exclaimed, pulling back in horror. He recoiled and waited for blood to drip from the walls.
"It's okay," she said, "I know who you are. You saved me. I know you did something terrible when you were alive. But I don't see how you're that person." He looked at her in shock. "I don't have much longer here."
"You won't remember me, will you?" He asked, though he knew the answer. It hurt, but relieved him.
"No," she said, sadly, "Will you dance with me?" She held her hand out. He smiled at her and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest and looked up at him. He knew she wouldn't remember this. It was the unconscious. She wasn't really here with him, dancing. She was in a hospital bed, hanging on to life. He knew he had to let her live. He hugged her and thought he would die again. All the loneliness he ever felt made no sense to him in that moment. But it was fleeting, like most moments are. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Before he knew it, she was gone and they were back in the hospital.
He looked back at her and felt his chest heave. It was too much and everything all at once. He needed her to wake up. He didn't know why he was worried. She would. Tracing his fingers on the door, he turned to walk out. A faint voice stopped him.
"Where am I?" It called. Barely. It was her. He rushed to her. Could she see him? "Nurse? Someone? Help!" She cried, "why am I alone?"
She could not see him. She probably did not remember him. She said she wouldn't. Did that even happen? Or was he losing it? He watched as nurses talked to her. Maybe he was getting too close. He had to let her go.
"..... I had a dream I was dancing," he heard her say, "it was beautiful. And I was dancing with someone. I don't know him, but he seemed special." He stopped in his tracks. Why did she remember even that foggy detail? He backed away, still wanting to hear more. He had to figure out why he was so drawn to her and what was going on.
To be continued