seventy two.

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Six months later, November 2017

"Angel."

His voice fills the loud silence and I turn around to see where it's coming from, although when I turn around, he's not there.

"Angel."

I hear it again and turn once more, this time being met with a piano three feet away from me.

"Angel."

To my right I can feel his presence. I turn and there he is, bringing a smile to my face.

"Angel, I've missed you." he smiles softly.

"I've missed you too." I try to take a step towards him, however, I'm unable to move. "Please, don't leave me again."

"You've got it all wrong, angel." he shakes his head, still wearing that golden smile.

"What do you mean?" I ask him, confused.

"You're the one who left me."

His words burn my heart. He's right. I did leave him, but I didn't want to. I needed to.

"I wrote a song about you," he begins speaking again and suddenly he's sitting in front of the piano. "Would you like to hear it?"

"No!" I force myself to wake up. There's a thin layer of sweat covering my entire body. I throw the blanket off of me and sit up.

I'm so sick of having the same recurring dream over and over again. Or maybe I should consider it a nightmare. After all the ending...

I shake my head to rid myself of the thoughts and decide I'll get up now. It's only— Holy shit it's five thirty in the fucking morning. I walk over to the window and pull the blind up, revealing the dusky sky and the view I have of the Manhattan Bridge. If I go into the living area, I can see it a lot clearer as the windows take up most of the wall facing it.

The nightmare creeps back into my thoughts and I outwardly groan, seriously regretting not telling my psychiatrist about this considering she did say nightmares were a possible side effect of the new anxiety medicine she put me on a few months before. I can't quite remember when the nightmares started, if it was even around the time I started this new medication or not.

I groan again.

There's no point in going back to sleep now because it'll just fuck up my body clock even more than it already is. I'll go into the kitchen, make breakfast and maybe start the vlog I promised I'd film while travelling these next two weeks. I could go for a run but I don't particularly like running alone when I'm in New York.

"Good morning! Or good day I suppose is better since I don't know what time you're watching this. It's morning for me though, five forty-three to be exact. You might be wondering: Hayley, why the fuck are you awake so early? I don't know either." I pause, my hands clasping as I keep my attention on my camera. "That's a lie, I totally had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep but let's not talk about it.

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