You died in June, but my nightmares began in May. I told you I could tell when bad things were going to happen. Remember when I told you that I was pretty sure my Uncle Levi was going to die? You told me I wasn’t psychic, everyone knew he was going to die because he had cancer. He could have died months, maybe years later, though. He was receiving treatment. But I knew he would die within weeks, days of my first nightmares. The same went with you.

I did try to tell you, even though I knew you wouldn’t have believed me. Sometimes I chickened out. Who’d want to hear that shit? But we had been best friends since birth, so I felt like I owed it to you. Maybe it would have saved you. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone to the Wastes with Chris and his gang. But when I started to tell you, you thought it was just because I was jealous, because I wanted to go hang with them, too. You were wrong.

I don’t know how I would have described my nightmares to you, anyway. It’s not like I watched you get stabbed to death in my dreams. I watched mundane things we did together—like show off for Kelly and Grace in the park last summer—but instead of the park being sunny and full of happy children screaming, it’s gray and silent. I’m watching the motions in silence as if in an old black-and-white film. And instead of remembering how cheerful we were that afternoon, I have this awful notion that you’re about to die. Like I could have stopped it, if only I knew where the threat to your life was coming from. Like maybe, if I could have saved you in my dreams, I could have saved you in real life. The dreams didn’t tell me how to save you, though. They only let me know that you were leaving me, that we wouldn’t go to a university together, that you wouldn’t be my best man. They just rubbed it in my face that you were my only friend and only for a few more days.

Chris and his friends are doing community service around school. You died, and they have community service. I mean, I guess it’s not like they pushed you into the Wastes. You were the dumbass that jumped when they told you to. I heard Chris bragging at lunch today about how he missed you, how close you two had been. He probably told the same sob story to the cops and the counselors. I guess I’d probably do the same to avoid the big house. Now Chris and his cronies are being “punished accordingly” for having influenced you to jump. The court assumed that no one could have known about the cement cylinder just under the water line that you smashed your body onto. Especially not such close friends of yours.

I want to punch Chris in the face. I would do it, too, if Grace hadn’t asked me not to. Yeah, Grace finally decided to go out with me. I think she feels bad for me. You should see Kelly, man. She’s distraught. I know you two had already said “I love you.” I know, you said you didn’t. But Kelly cries every day and sits by herself. I’ve even seen her come to your house across the street and hang out with your mom. You guys had to be in love. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me. I know I would have given you crap about it, but you could have told me.

Let’s agree that I should have told you that you were probably going to die, and you should have told me that you were in love with Kelly, and that we’re even now.

There. The school counselor, Ms. Pat, wanted me to write you a letter. She felt like I wasn’t talking to her enough during our meetings about grief. First the old bat didn’t know why I had even brought myself to her office. I hadn’t known where else to go. It was during third period, when you and I would normally smoke behind the dumpsters outside the gym. I had smoked five cigarettes that day, taking enough drags for us both, when I realized that I wasn’t dreaming of you anymore. They had gone as quickly as you had. But how could I have told Ms. Pat about my nightmares? So, I told her that I didn’t know how to cope, that I missed you. And you know what she asked? She asked if I knew you very well. After I described to her how Chris was making shit up, as if he knew that you hated Christmas or that you loved Kelly, she asked me to start meeting with her. Today she asked me to write you a letter and to do something special with it. She seems to think it’ll help. I’ll probably put it in the trash. You never listened to me anyway.

About the Author:

Courtney Griffey, constantly preoccupied by just being beautiful, is hardly able to drag herself to the trivial task of fulfilling her natural talent and calling that is writing. Though her favored pieces are of revolutionary princess-overpopulated fantasy and d

ark-ish fiction, she has agreeably made the decision to afford herself time for more serious works. Currently a humble college student at the University of Northern Colorado, studying English, pre-Nursing, Writing and Spanish, Courtney spends most of her days hiding in her basement studio apartment as a favor to the world; to shield them from the radiating amount of awesome that simply overwhelms any common human. She hopes on

e day to brighten the life of an orphaned Chinese daughter and marry a man who wins her favor by supplying her with massive amounts of gourmet coffees and espressos. Until then, she will continue to work on her first novel, The Legend of Oa, set to be completed by August of this year, and endlessly coo over dreams of tiny baby unicorns.

About the Bolide Publication:

The dark is illuminated only for an instant, a sudden flash of light, an explosive glimpse that streaks across the night sky. We have to imagine where that light originated, where it will go once it has left our sight, but in

those brief moments, we glimpse something amazing. The Bolide, Tethered by Letters’ newest publication, is dedicated to these same flashes into the world of fiction. With stories of length varying between 55, 250, 500, and 750 words or less, we welcome writers to create their own literary shooting stars. Submissions are now open for the January edition of The Bolide. The deadline for this debut edition is the 15th of December. There is absolutely no reading fee or limit to the number of submissions. Remember, however, that yo

u must be at the rank of Author to submit for possible publication, and we do not accept any submissions that are not correctly formatted (see specifications).

Submit now!