Unconscious

“Here’s the plan, men. Alex and Jesi, you two will go in and clear the entrance for us. The rest of us will follow you from behind, then we’ll take down the enemy and bring them back to the base,” said the officer in charge of the operation. All eight men nodded that they understood.
Alex and Jesi silently and quickly ran towards the mansion where it was believed the terrorist was. Jesi was holding an explosive device that would open the secured entrance and allow the squad in.
As Jesi placed the bomb down and Alex was hooking it up, Jesi tapped Alex on the solder and pointed to an open window.
“I’ll go in to help you guys on the inside,” he said.
“That’s not part of the plan, we have to be cautious,” Alex replied, but Jesi didn’t listen and entered the building.
“What’s that noise?” thought Alex as a huge explosion came from inside the mansion.

The alarm clock went off and Alex tapped it to shut it off. He turned in his bed to see the clock showing six in the morning. Alex sat up and stretched before he got out of his bed to get ready for the day. After eating a healthy tofu breakfast, Alex opened a cabinet that housed a huge assortment of pills.
Alex stared at the pills, finding the one that would help him focus during the day. The pill was necessary after all that happened five years earlier during the war. Alex took the pill with water, grabbed his brief case and went off to work.

“Alex, you okay?” asked Christine, a co-worker.
“I’m just tired, I stayed up late working,” replied Alex.
“You sure? You’ve been acting strange lately,”
“No, I’m fine. I just need to get more sleep,” Christine left and went to her cubicle to get back to her own work. When she left, Alex sat holding his iphone under his desk, wondering if he should call his therapist.
“I hate that dream,” thought Alex. He knew the dream he had the night before was not just a dream, but a terrible memory. A memory where he lost a friend. He got up from his desk and decided to take the day off.

When Alex returned home, he could not help but throw himself on his bed and take a long nap after not getting enough sleep the night before. Alex immediately started dreaming. He was on 44th Street eating a hotdog that he got from a hotdog stand. He saw an elderly woman about to cross the street just when the signal turned to the “Do Not Cross” red hand.
“Hey lady!” yelled Alex as he ran towards her. But it was too late and the old woman was hit by a car. Alex ran towards her as a crowd started to form.
“Are you alright?” asked Alex, but he already knew the woman was dead.
Alex woke up with a start at first not realizing it was the next day. He did his old daily routines and took his pills. He knew he had to work for the whole day to make up for the previous day’s absence.

“Alex, are you hungry?” asked Casey, another one of Alex’s co-workers.
“Yeah, I need to get out of this cubicle,” Alex said with a smile. “I’m in the mood for a hotdog. Let’s go. My treat.”
While eating his hotdog and talking to Casey, Alex noticed that he was standing on 44th street, where his dream had taken place.
“Just a coincidence,” he thought and shrugged it off. That was when he saw the elderly lady. The same lady from his dream. Without thinking, Alex ran.
“Alex?” asked Casey and Alex grabbed the lady as the signal turned to the red hand.
“Excuse me?” said the lady and Alex watched the car pass without hitting the woman.
“You were about to fall,” Alex lied to the elderly woman. The woman pushed him away and waited with the crowd till the signal indicated it was okay to cross. Alex returned to his co-worker who asked what was going on. Alex ignored him and walked back to work.

At work, Alex stared at Christine from his cubicle and, while watching her, he had a vision. He was at a fancy restaurant and saw Christine. She had a nice dark blue dress on and he could smell her perfume. He could tell Christine was having a good time but he could not tell with whom she was sitting with. He could only see the back of her companion’s head. Then Alex returned to reality. He watched as another co-worker approach Christine.
“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.
“My boyfriend is taking me out to this wonderful five star restaurant!” she said. Alex was in shock. Not because Christine had a boyfriend, but because he saw it! But he did not know how.
Alex jolted up from his seat, grabbed his briefcase, and ran home. He started to sweat and act paranoid. Once he got home, he sat down and put his head in his hand.
“What’s going on! Why is this happening! Why can I see these things? Why?” he kept asking. He then turned on the TV for comfort only to hear disturbing news.
“This just in, the mayor has committed suicide. After cutting the ribbon at the new shelter for the homeless, Mayor Cooper was found dead in the bathroom with his throat cut, and a pair of scissors in his hands.” Alex turned off the TV, he did not want to hear such disturbing and bad news. Alex again was holding his cell phone wondering if he should call his therapist and wondering if he would believe him. But again Alex refused the impulse. Alex started to pace, fearing he would fall asleep and have another vision.
“What!” all of a sudden Alex could not move his body. He was fully conscious but his body was moving on it’s own. His body started walking towards the door. There was a knock on the door. Alex did not want to open it, but his body was not obeying him.
“Stop!” said Alex but his body would not listen to him and before he knew it, he opened the door to a strange man. The man was wearing baggy jeans, a black T-shirt with a skull, old sneakers, and a long black coat that was obviously too big on him. He also wore a gray hat, so it was hard to see his face.
“What do you want?” asked Alex. The stranger did not reply.
“Why are you here?”
“We are the same, but also different,” the man said. Alex still could not see his face.
“I don’t understand,”
“It’s your fault,” the man said. He looked up at Alex and Alex could see his face clearly. He wore an eye patch over his left eye, but Alex could never forget that face. The face of an old friend, whose face is not filled with joy or enthusiasm, but with anger and hate.
“Jesi? But you’re dead,”