"I...I..." I stuttered as I realized that I was in the presence of a popular music figure, who was standing in his boxers and drinking milk out of the carton if front of his refrigerator at midnight. Wait a minute, I thought, there is no possible way that I could be in the Hanson household. This is a dream. I looked once again at Taylor in his boxers. A really fucked up dream.
"How the hell did you get in here?" he demanded as he placed the milk carton back and closed the refrigerator door, causing the only light in the room to disappear.
I heard his feet pad across the bare floor and over to me as he grabbed my arm and yanked me off of the floor,"Damn obsessive fans." he muttered as I felt his eyes sweep over me.
Wait a minute. Obsessive? Yeah right. This had to be the weirdest dream ever. I was the farthest thing from an obsessed fan.
"Are you okay?" he asked finally.
"Of course! And I'll thank you to take your hands off of me." I snapped pulling my arm away.
"Take my hands off of you? You're lucky I'm not calling the police!" he reprimanded.
"Oh wow, so they can arrest me huh?" I asked sarcastically as I exited the kitchen.
"Well, yeah because that's what police do." he responded and then took notice of my absence,"Hey! Just where do you think you're going?" he asked rushing to my side.
I let my eyes wander over the pictures in the hallway of his house,"You know," I said glancing at him breifly,"this has got to be the lamest dream in the history of lame dreams."
"Dream?" he asked confused. His body language clearly showed that he wanted me to leave his house.
I studied him before answering,"Oh yeah, you're not supposed to tell me this is a dream because you don't know. You are just a figment of my imagination right now. Well, I must say that you are the most realistic person that I have ever dreamed about."
Taylor replaced his grip on my arm,"Come on, get out of my house. I don't know who you are and you are obviously crazy." he said tugging me away from the wall full of pictures.
"Whatever." I shrugged as I let him pull me to through his house and to the front door,"You know, you're pretty rude." I informed him.
He snorted,"Oh, I'm rude? You break and enter and I'm rude."
"You're obnoxious." I said scrunching my nose and planting my feet firmly to the floor,"And this is my dream and I intend to stay as long as I want."
"Look girl," he started.
"Abigal." I cut him off.
"What?" he asked more confused.
"My name is not "girl", it's Abigal. You can call me Abby." I said politely.
"Okay Abby," he said rudely,"please remove yourself from this house." he pulled the front door open.
"Can I go to the bathroom first?" I asked,"Please don't make me leave without going to the bathroom. I promise I will leave right after I go." I said tricking "Dream Taylor" into letting me spend a few more precious moments in his house.
He sighed,"Go. Then get the hell out of my house, and I mean it!" he replied shutting the door.
"I turned around and saw the fog curling down the hallway. I froze. The fog, that choking fog. I could feel Taylor move beside me,"What the hell is that?" he muttered.
I turned to him and gripped his shirt,"Oh please Taylor. Please don't let it take me! You don't know what's it like." I begged.
"Holy shit." he mumbled a little louder as it swirled around us. It was looking for me.
"Oh no, please leave me alone." I said tears brimming my eyes. It was so scary in there, I couldn't breath. I felt the fog on me.
Taylor looked into my eyes,"You weren't lying, this is a dream." he told me as if he didn't believe it himself. "So what the hell does this thing want?" he panicked.
"Me!" I exclaimed.
Taylor wrapped his arms around me and crouched onto the floor with me,"Calm down Abigal. It won't get you. If this is a dream you can't die." he told me.
I couldn't hear him. Something in the fog was whispering,"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, and if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take."
I couldn't feel his arms anymore. Where was he? Where was dream Taylor? The fog was choking me again. I reached up to my throat and felt my gold cross necklece. I accidentally unfastned it and it dropped into the fog beneath me.
Taylor sat up, confused. Why the hell was he laying in the hallway by the front door? His gaze shifted to the hall. No fog. But, it was so real. It was really here. She was real. he thought.
He stood up and looked around. Everything was normal, nothing out of place. That dream was so real, she was so alive. He could still feel her hand clutching his shirt. He began to walk towards the stairs and he shook his head. I'm losing it. he thought. He stepped on something.
"What the..?" he trailed off hopping away from whatever he stepped on. It glinted in the tiny light that filtered in the window from the streetlight. He crouched next to it. A gold cross.
He gently picked it up to examine it closer. No one he knew had a cross like that.
He held it delicately in his hands as he proceeded up the stairs,"The night keeps getting weirder." he mumbled to himself.
I sat up in bed quickly, the prespiration dripping off of my face. Where was it? Where was that horrid fog? I glanced around my room. Nowhere. I looked at my clock, it was one a.m. I sighed and let my head fall back onto the nice cool pillow. That's the last time I ever curse Taylor Hanson I thought as I wiped the sweat off of my face. In the process I noticed that my cross was gone.
I sat up and flipped my lamp light on,"No fucking way." I muttered to myself as I dug under my pillows and blankets looking for my necklace. "No way, it was a dream damnit!" I mumbled frustrated.
I stopped fussing around and picked up the phone on my night table. I dialed those seven familiar numbers and waited while the phone rang once, twice...
"Hello?" a groggy voice came through.
"Liz!" I practically shouted,"Girl, I just had the weirdest dream..."
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