Listen to Sowing Season by Brand New while reading.

Sowing Season

The two friends slipped into the '98 Volkswagen Cabriolet, laughing all the while. They were drunk. The two best friends were only sixteen when they sat in the front seat of the black car, under the influence of alcohol. Had they one shred of intelligence they would've assumed that had not been a good idea. This thought did not cross their mind until there was a semi colliding—and destroying their car. They died instantly.

"Tell me about what happened that night Jesse." Dr. Frankford asked in her 'soothing voice'. Jesse thought it was entirely idiotic and made him want to roll his eyes at the brunette psychologist. That is, if he could roll his eyes. That movement seemed completely foreign to him now, ever since he'd lost Laine, his love, and Lacey, his best friend. He was numb, not even the greatest sensations of agony could reach him now.

"I don't know exactly, I wasn't there. All I know is they'd been partying and a semi hit them head on." He said the words in a monotone, his emotions having been drained from him.

"I was referring to how you felt Jesse." She breathed in slowly, "How do you feel now?"

"I can't feel."

Weeks of therapy had done Jesse no good. He was still desperately numb and having these horrible dreams. The dreams so glorious they were terrifying—Laine was the star of them. He dreamt of her sandy blonde hair, her ivory skin…her lilac smell; he dreamt of the love he held for her. Jesse felt as though he could live vicariously through his dreams where he had his friends, his love.

Needless to say, Jesse's father did not approve. He wanted his son to live his life, the right way. Not holding onto sweet dreams of his departed girlfriend. That just wasn't healthy, and believe it or not Jesse felt the same deep down. This emptiness, this ache was not a feeling Jesse was content with—he desired a life, just as Laine would've wanted him to have one.

After several months the dreams never stopped but neither did Jesse's hope. He wished to move on in life, not wallow in misery until graduation over the loss of Laine. She would've been upset to see him so… distraught for so long. For her and for himself he continued to move forward. He wished to make his misery a fortune, something to be proud of; he wished to live an outstanding life. And in order to succeed in this he would have to make some friends.

This is how Moriah and David intertwined themselves with Jesse; they were a nice couple Jesse had always liked. Moriah was a shy girl, but always pleasant to everyone—even if she didn't know them. David on the other hand was more reserved with strangers but entirely blunt with those close to him. Jesse felt as though they could be the ones to help him gain his life back.

But one lingering thought never really processed in his mind. The only true way to abandon his angst was to let go of his dreams. The dreams he now had every night, several times a night. They were getting worse or as Jesse thought, better. He wrote down every single dream in fear that he would one day lose them, he couldn't let go of that love.

Nearly a year after the death of Laine and Lacey the dreams continued to dominate Jesse's thoughts. He analyzed every precious moment he experienced in his slumber. He continued to document everyone as well. Jesse kept up with the pretence that he was trying to recover from the death of the girls, but he had no one fooled. He no longer cared about 'making peace' with their deaths. He wished to live with the happy memories of his past, and in some ways present—if you count the dreams.

David was staying the night at Jesse's house when he discovered the dream journal. Jesse had already fallen asleep, leaving David both technically alone and curious. He read through them carefully, documenting certain parts that worried him more than others.

I can still feel her touch on my skin.

Jesse was losing it and David being the good friend he was, was concerned. He knew now that this was why Jesse had been so reserved, why he couldn't truly move on. Despite Jesse's half-hearted lies of recovering from his loss, David never believed him—this new discovery only strengthened his belief. He knew what he had to do now.

Without giving the action much thought David destroyed the dream journal.

Jesse had woken up while David was admiring the flame. He was ready to document another one of his dreams. This was when he discovered two things: one, the journal was gone and two, David was gone. He followed the sounds of paper crackling in a fire downstairs.

"What the hell have you done?" He shouted when he saw the remains of the leather bound book.

"I'm saving you."

Jesse's eyes twitched lightly. He told David to leave so he could mourn the loss of what happiness he had alone. David hadn't a clue what Jesse felt like, losing the one girl who he truly loved. He didn't know. He didn't know the pain, the complete agony that coursed through him when the girl he was supposed to love and protect passed into heaven. It was then that a plan formulated in his head.

David did not know, but he would.

Blood dripped off of Jesse's hands, off of his shirt, his hair, his face. The blood of Moriah.

The blood of an innocent girl drenched his phone as he dialed David's number. It rung three times, and then he answered.

"Come here now." Jesse ordered, immediately hanging up as soon as the words were spoken. David arrived shortly after.

He saw the blood stained words on the wall before they registered to him. They read 'Do you miss the blend of colors she left in your black and white field? Do you feel condemned just being there?' Below the bloody poetry was his beautiful Moriah, dead.

Words were lost on him; he simply sank to his knees and sobbed for the loss of his love. He was so far lost in his pity and agony that he did not hear the gentle footsteps of Jesse. Jesse's eyes were bright, happy to see David suffering the way he himself had been for nearly a year.

David looked up at Jesse, a sort of raw anger festering in his eyes when he grabbed the gun sitting beside Moriah's corpse. Jesse knew what David was going to do, he'd planned on it actually. He was ready. Ready to be free of this agony. Ready to see his Lain.

"Why?" David asked in a broken tone, "I thought we were friends."

"I am not your friend!" Jesse yelled, his anger taking control, "I am just a man who knows how to feel."

And with those final words, David pressed the trigger to the gun. His own body collapsing when the bullet penetrated his skull. Jesse stood there in shock. He was supposed to be the one to die, not David. No.

"Jesse?" The voice of an angel called, literally. Jesse was seeing Laine, really seeing her he thought. "Jesse, I love you." She said, now standing in front of Jesse's sobbing form. Her long hair trailed down her back in gentle waves, her skin reminded him of soft cotton.

He had his love with him finally.

"Jesse, come with me." She beckoned.

But why? He thought, she was already here with him. He could finally live a life with Laine, on Earth. This would be perfect, just like before she died.

"How?" He felt his eyes tug to the gun when he spoke the words. Without a further word from Laine he knew what he had to do.

He was almost happy when he felt the pressure of the bullet.

He was finally with his love. Forever.