With a sudden jerk, he woke up.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but I refuse to die.”
But it would be so easy… Just accept this perfect life. Let it take hold of your weary mind. Rest, Sylus. Rest and endure your eternity in peace.
“I have to wake up.”
No, you don’t…
“Is everything okay in here?” his wife appeared in the doorway.
“Sure. If you consider being very aware of this all being a dream,” Sylus laughed, “And that I’m dying.”
“Y-you’re… But honey… You just got a clean bill of health from Dr. Quinton…”
Sylus sat up, staring at her, “Quinton’s the pastor.”
For a fleeting moment, his “wife” looked confused, “Oh, dear, he’s a doctor, too… have you forgotten? This is a very small town, after all. Some of the duties have to be shared. Like yourself! You used to be a fireman and a police officer… Now you’re mayor!”
Sylus reached for the lamp on his bedside table and threw it at her. It crashed into the wall just inside the door. With a shriek, she ran out of the room.
Standing up, Sylus began twisting his sheets into tight coils.
This won’t help, Sylus…
“I won’t play your STUPID game… Let me out!”
I have no control over that, Sylus. You have to let yourself out. You want out so badly, yet here you linger…
Sylus threw one end of the twisted sheet over the curtain rod in his window.
You’re only hurting yourself, Sylus…
“Fine. Maybe if I hurt myself enough, I’ll wake up…”
No pain you can self-inflict will ever be stronger than that which your body is enduring…
“I knew it… Where’s my body?! What’s happening to it?!”
Oh you poor thing…
Sylus wrapped the sheet around his neck before jumping out the window.