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He could hear steady beeping in the distance. Was it a car? An alarm? It was Bloody annoying whatever it was. He went to turn to his beautiful bride that was asleep next to him. A pain shot through his head that sent him gasping. “What the hell,” he murmured as he fell back asleep thinking I celebrated too much.
Jack's childhood was not a happy one. He vaguely remembered sitting on a swing by himself dreaming of being anywhere, anywhere other than a place where he got slapped for everything. He realized that all it took was imagination and instantly he was somewhere else. Soon he realized he could be someone else. If he was bored, he could have a fantastic adventure right in his head. In high school, he passed endless hours as a secret agent, firefighter, astronaut - so many wonderful people and places he could go. When the girls at school turned their noses up at him - they were more than willing in his head. Sure, he got in trouble sometimes for not paying attention, but detention offered even more opportunities to play inside his head. He was in charge of his life, it was exciting. Women loved him, he was never alone. In college, doctors had the nerve to tell him he was maladaptive daydreaming, whatever the hell that was. They even tried to give him pills. Pills! To stop his better life? He didn't want to live a life of drinking alone. In his apartment, he could go from a plate of cold beans to Lobster Newburg in the blink of an eye. A bottle of Jack Daniels became Dom Perignon. Women loved to watch him dance and fought to come home with him, it was beautiful until he would wake up in his underpants and covered in his own drool. But never mind that - another woman would be at his door, quick as you please.
But his wife - his wife was different. She liked him for him. She thought he was witty and fun. There was the slight air of danger when they met, she was on the run. His daydreaming came in handy - he was dashing, brave, and tough as nails for her. He was everything she wanted him to be and everything he needed to be. He didn't count on a gunfight though, but he got them before they got her. He tried to blink away the fuzziness. He was shot that night; Jill screamed and slapped him before everything went black. But their glorious wedding made up for that painful night so long ago. He thought back to that afternoon at the chapel. Every detail... why were the faces so dull? Why were the colors of the dresses and kilts running together? He grimaced - he wished a headache would go away. It was messing with his head, everything was so cloudy. He felt drunk - too much Jack Daniels perhaps? It was like he was in a damn well and it was getting annoying. It was too dark, too cold, and he couldn't hear anything. Where was Jill anyway? Jack was getting confused now. A voice in his head told him to relax. Muffled voices swirled in his head. Who was that talking? How long has it been? He was still surrounded by darkness and his head hurt something fierce. He strained his ears to hear those voices: Debilitated, irreversible damage, single, alone, only security, mental health issues...were they talking about him? Insanity! He had a wife, a steady job, and his mind was as sharp as ever! You couldn't have this imagination if you were dull. He has to forget the pain, he has to forget that it was increasingly hard to breathe. He has to think of his adventures, the women, the danger, and Jill. Of course, jill - though it was hard to picture her. The image was blurry. But he swore he remembered her sweet voice saying to let go. “Let go,” he sighed happily as the pain faded away.