“Gnome!” Jimmy screamed it into my ear, making me jump super high. I hated when he snuck up on me. And he always did it, just to fuck with me.

“Jesus, Jimmy, you know I hate that.” I turned to face my best friend and screamed again.

Jimmy was covered in blood. It was dripping from his eyes, his ears, and his nose. It was like watching a horror movie happen to my best friend. The worst part was that I could see inside his rib cage to his enlarged heart.

He looked me up and down and smiled at me. When he smiled, the corners of his mouth started to drip with blood. It was like his mouth was crying. I couldn’t look away no matter how much I wanted to. Weren’t these nightmares behind me?

I shot awake, clutching my pillow tightly to my mouth so Lacey wouldn’t hear my screaming. I thought these nightmares were behind me. All the other guys, they had moved forward. They were doing better; they were managing. Of course, some days were harder than others, but most days we were okay. But I was still suffering silently with these nightmares.

Lacey and the guys didn’t know. Everyone thought I was okay, that I was moving forward. The thing was, I usually thought that myself. But the truth was, I wasn’t close to healing. What I needed to feel better, as I often did after one of these nightmares, was to go see Jimbo.

Sighing, I rolled out of bed and looked at my wife. She was still sleeping peacefully, curled against my pillows now. I smiled gently at her, pulling on my pants and a shirt. She didn’t move once, so I went to check on my son before heading to Jimmy.

After knowing Franklin was okay, I left the house. The keys to my car jangled in my hand as I made my way to it. Part of me wanted to speed right to where my best friend was, but I knew I needed to be as calm as possible. Being with Jimmy always made me feel better even if it emotionally drained me.

When I pulled up to the cemetery, I had to take a few minutes to calm myself down. Nerves were crackling throughout my body as they often did when I was here. He’d been gone for almost a decade, but when I was here, it almost always felt like a fresh wound.

I laid a bouquet of yellow roses on his grave and sat down, staring at his headstone. Of course, it didn’t say anything, but I always imagined Jimmy saying hello. I kept staring him down, willing him to leave my dreams.

“You gotta stop scaring me, Jim. I miss you; we all do, but I need to sleep without thinking of you,” I said to the headstone.

Silence met my ears. It always did. A headstone wouldn’t talk to you. “I miss you so much it hurts sometimes, James, but you need to stop haunting my dreams. We wish you were. We do.”

Tears welled in my eyes and finally I felt better. Sometimes I thought Jimmy just allowed me to let the tears fall. It was so hard lately. It was so hard.

Notes