"FUCK, CRYSTAL!!! YOU HAVE TO AT LEAST TRY TO BE MY FRIEND!!"

What did I say? It was kind of a joke.

"Is that a threat? I have been trying."

"Well, Crystal, I have some good news and some bad news."

I look up at the Doctor from my hospital bed, anxious for him to spit it out, good or bad.

"The good news is, your finger* has healed fine. The surgery was a success and there are no traces of the bacteria anywhere in your system."

That is good news, but I don't smile or reply, remembering that he said there was bad news.

"The bad news is, well, while you were under, we decided to take some moles to biopsy..."

Uh-huh.

"Well, we've diagnosed you with skin cancer."

*the surgery in question was the amputation of most of right ring finger to eliminate the spread of the flesh eating disease.

I got up and was slowly getting ready for work. My boyfriend was at the computer. I went into the kitchen to brew some coffee. People stared entering my apartment. Friends. Acquaintances. I wasn't even dressed yet. I ran into the bedroom to close the door. If you don't know, my bedroom is between my living room and kitchen. I needed to block the view while I threw on some pants. It didn't really matter that people were here. They would spend time with KC while I worked. But more people were continuously streaming in. I was turning into quite a party. People were not just in our apartment, but they were all through the house, including the basement, where a band was setting up.

"Well, I'm gonna go to work."

I just had to get out of there for some reason. I went somewhere in the North End for lunch. Then, I realized I didn't work at 1:00, but 3:00, so I decided to stop home on my way to see my boy.

I put the key in the door and noticed things were strangely quiet. When I got inside, I discovered the place was completely empty. There was hardly any evidence at all that there had been people there. The cats were still there, but oddly lonely, and crying repeatedly. I walked around and took in the scene. There was evidence that the place had been recently crowded. Where did all the people go?

After my tour, I found myself in the living room, looking at the phone. Where there used to be an off-white basic telephone, there was a black call-minder telephone. The numbers were not 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, etc, but they were 9, 99, 999, 99 99, etc, with the print getting smaller to account for the extra nines.

I pressed play on the answering machine. The voice was ominous. "Hello. This is the Dark Lord. I am proud to tell you that I have brought the apocalypse."

I sat on the living room floor, paralyzed in fear. Is this some sort of prank? Did he leave a message for everyone, or does he know I'm still here? Does this mean KC's in Heaven, and I'm on my way to Hell?

It's funny how what you watch on TV right before going to sleep can affect your dreams. It's sad when you can't even watch the Daily Show.

I almost found out what happens when you die in a dream.

Myself and a couple of friends were walking through the woods, up a driveway to a party out in the country. We heard sounds, but couldn't place them at first. Then I realized...they were gunshots! Coming at us from the trees. They seemed to be coming from all directions.

RUN!!!!

We ran up the driveway and made it into the house.

Phew.

The three of us found ourselves leaning up against the wall in a hallway. There were more people in the house. More party-goers, I assumed. Bullets were flying through windows, and lodging themselves into the walls. Thankfully, a person hadn't been hit,...yet. I knew they were just going to close in on us if we didn't do something. By running here for safety, we were now trapped in the house. I convinced a few friends, but not the ones I arrived with (they refused), to make a run for it with me. There was a car in the driveway. If we could just make it to the car, we could drive outta there.

And we did make it.

Phew.

I sat in the front passenger seat, catching my breath. My two accomplices sat behind me, and beside me in the driver's seat. After a few deep breaths, I reached out to close my door; we were almost in the clear. When my hand touches the handle, someone touches my hand. I look up.

Oh, it's you. But I thought you didn't want to...Oh!

It was JCS. In the house, he said it would be a bad idea to run to the car. I first thought he had changed his mind, until I saw the gun. A quick glance to the left, and my driver was also pointing a gun at me. In an instant, two bullets travel through my skull.

I collapse to the right. Still in the seat, but hanging out of the car. My eyes are open, and I can see the blood pouring out onto the driveway. My heart pounds in fear, but I don't move. My assailants leave me for dead.

A quick thought passes through my mind, and it's terrifying.

I guess I get to find out if you die for real in a dream.

That thought may be what saved my life. I instantly remembered that this wasn't real.

My body filled with consciousness. Quickly, I sat up, pulled the door shut, and slid into the driver's seat. The slamming door caught the attention of the bad guys. "SHE CAN'T STILL BE ALIVE!!" I managed to start the car, and drive away, dizzy and swerving. "Just let her go. She's going to try to make it to _____'s house, thinking he can save her, but she won't make it. She'll pass out from blood loss on the way.

I woke up as I turned the corner to safety.