***
The night wears on and everything appears to be going fine. I have spoken to some long-lost relatives—ones that weren’t huggers—and while it’s nice to see them again, I know if I survive this night, I probably won’t keep in touch with any of them.
My dreams are usually right on the mark, but me being killed? Shot, no less, seems crazy. I haven’t seen anyone here that looks like they’re harboring any hatred for me or a person who could be hiding a gun. Is it possible I have my dream wrong? I haven’t had one for years. What if they aren’t correct anymore? Then, what is the meaning behind Joel’s dream?
I look carefully around the room while trying to stop a new panic attack from coming on. Dread fills my entire body and I know something is wrong, something is about to happen. I quickly leave to go outside, feeling claustrophobic inside. I should have run out of the house, I should have run and not looked back. Instead, I’m ushered by people outside and into my enclosed backyard. The fence makes me feel just as claustrophobic as the walls inside.
“Zoe!” Dana calls out my name and I jump when her hands touch me and she brings her arms around me for a hug. “Are you shaking? Silly girl, go inside and get changed if you’re cold. I did.”
Dana pulls away and I look down at her beautiful, cream dress that’s definitely the same one she had on in my dream.
“You can’t still be in shock over this, come on! It’s a party! Try smiling!” Dana pushes my arm and passes me a drink.
“I’m sorry, Dana.” Large tears fall down my face.
I’m going to be killed in front of all these people. Why didn’t I do more to stop it? I should have told Dana about my dream. I could have even simply said it was a nightmare. She would have known not to throw the party. I should have left. I shouldn’t have just wasted this week doing nothing.
“Zee, talk to me. I know something is wrong. I didn’t push on Monday night because I knew you would tell me in your own time, but if it’s upsetting you this much, then please talk to me. I love you and I hate seeing you upset.”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late. Look, I’m positive this is about Joel and that’s why I invited him here tonight. I know you guys haven’t had the best start, but I’m sure you can get it back on track. Just give him a chance.”
“Joel is here?” I look around for him. I need to talk to him, to ask him about his dream. What if he knows who kills me? What if he’s here to try and stop it?
“He must be somewhere. I haven’t seen him yet, but promise me you’ll sort this out, whatever it is. I hate seeing you upset.”
I nod to her that I will and watch her move in to hug me just as a loud explosion erupts around us. Everything moves in slow motion and I know the sound is a gunshot. My dream is happening right now.
My legs collapse from under me and Dana and I both go down. My hands tighten on Dana’s dress and an intense pain shoots through me as I look down at her dress to see a deep red spreading over her. My grip tightens further and my heart stops beating. Dana gasps for breath as she slowly moves away from me and her entire body collapses down on the ground. My heart breaks seeing her in pain and I scream out her name. The horrible truth crashes down on me and tries to suffocate me, making me dizzy. I haven’t been shot. Dana has.
Hands roughly pull me aside then and Drew leans over Dana and holds his hands against her chest. He pulls off his shirt, holding it over her stomach, calling out for help, but everyone around us is panicking and crying. Mom rushes out with a phone that she is yelling into. Dana reaches out and touches Drew on his cheek with her bloodied hand while he leans over her, begging her to hold on. She manages to hold her hand there for only a moment before her arm falls idly to her side and she closes her eyes.
My world crashes down around me then and Drew breaks down in tears, holding onto Dana.
Either I’d been wrong all along or my inaction put Dana in danger. The only thing that’s truly obvious right now is my best friend has been shot and I was warned and didn’t do enough to stop it from happening.
My eyesight blurs as I wildly stare at the crowd of people surrounding us. Who fired the gun? Who shot my best friend? I can’t make out anyone properly and no matter how much I wipe my eyes, more tears come in their place. My ears work fine, though, and I hear one thing over and over again.
“Joel shot Dana.”
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