I already know where I'm going with this one... DEFINITELY extremely dark story this time!
The egg cracked on her forehead, the yellow yoke splat in the middle of her forehead. Her face revealed undeniable pain. "I loved you," he said quietly to the broken girl as he turned to leave with his teammates.
"Jesse… If you loved me you wouldn't do this!" The girl started to cry again, head drooping, face buried in her hands.
I shot up, breathing heavily. I could feel the egg dripping down my face, the yolk sliding between my eyes down my nose. I brushed my hand nervously across my face, waiting for my hand to come away wet. It didn't.
Shivering slightly, I rolled out of bed, grabbing my night robe off the floor where I abandoned it last night. I felt like crap. These stupid dreams kept waking me up, and I could barely get enough sleep. It was only my first night aboard the NX-01, and I really didn't want to get in trouble for falling asleep in sickbay.
Usually, I could never make out names in my dreams. But this time, I heard one name.
He felt like a monster. He shouldn't be walking away from the brunette. Why was he leaving her? As he got into the car with his teammates, he felt even worse. All around him, his teammates were talking about how they broke the starlet and how Regionals was theirs.
He looked out the back window, and saw the girl looking at the car. Their eyes met.
"Good job, Jesse! Rachel Berry is officially funkified. They have no chance now!" One of the girls said, and he turned his head, breaking the contact.
That look would haunt for the rest of his life.
My eyes snapped open, and I sat up, one hand to my forehead. "Not again," Imumbled to nobody in particular. For the last week, I'd been having these… dreams, nightmares, whatever you want to call them. They kept me awake now, even though there was nothing out of the ordinary about them.
Grumbling tiredly, I rolled out of bed unwillingly and walked over to the desk. I'd had this dream before, but tonight was the first night I could hear what those other people were saying. Something about a Rachel Berry, and Regionals.
Turning on the computer, I typed 'Rachel Berry' into the search bar. A biography popped up, and in the top corner was a picture of a brunette, no more than eighteen maybe. She was smiling widely at the camera and holding a large trophy in her arms.
I gaped at the screen. That was the brunette in my dreams. I checked her birth date. Then frowned.
Why would I be having dreams about a girl from more than a hundred years ago? "What the hell is going on…"
It was early now, and I was sitting at my desk staring at a photo of a curly haired man. I had spent my night looking for the guy in my dreams, and I finally found him.
Jesse St. James, star of a show choir that won the National Show Choir Championship four years in a row. He was cute, I guess. A mop of extremely curly brown hair, winning smile. It also showed that he died at twenty nine.
I didn't get it. Why was I having dreams about a dead guy?
Blinking rapidly, I realized that I needed to report to Captain Archer in twenty minutes. I grumbled as I slid on the blue jumpsuit, truly thankful it covered my spots. Most of them, anyways. Looking in the mirror, I applied coverup over my spots, then pulled my hair into a ponytail.
I glanced around. Where was my medical coat? Locating it on a hanger in my closet, I slipped it on and pulled on my shoes. I stood up, and walked out the door.
"I loved you."
When I was writing this, I kept thinking 'I see dead people.' xD