Her Dream

The breeze was refreshing and cooled her skin as quickly as the sun warmed it. The air pushed waves through the endless field of golden grain as distant tree lines rushed against the light blue sky dotted with large clouds.
"Oh, hi Sammy." John was sitting at the base of a lonely oak tree in the middle of the field as he had in the hospital, covered in white bandages from which clear tubes trailed with different liquids. She walked over and sat beside him, and he put his arm around her, smiling warmly as the sun shining overhead.
Then there was a sudden crack through the calm air, causing hundreds of crows to explode from the distant trees and rise into the darkening sky. A tall figure stood with his back to the burning field whose black smoke became storm clouds as the wind picked up. Sammy stood to face the stranger and screamed as she saw it was John, his flesh covered in open scars, the plain uniform soaked in blood, and in his hand a knife that gleamed as brightly as his twisted grin and flashing eyes.
"Sammy, no!" John said from behind, his bandages turning into black sludge that oozed from his wounds. Through the haze of terror she ran to him and tried to apply pressure to the lacerations, his thick blood now spilling onto the living room carpet. All the while those crunching steps as combat boots ground shattered glass into powder, flames licking his lips as his tilted head grew closer and closer through the pouring black rain.
The gun was in her hands. And through the fog of fear she leveled the sights on the approaching John. Though her heart was pounding a mile a minute, her stomach had turned to stone and nerves steeled as she squeezed the trigger. Click.
The advancing figure vanished along with the flames. The field was still once more, the rain pouring straight down and soaking her to her very bones. Sammy turned back to the oak tree to see many of its thick limbs had fallen, revealing rotting insides where they lay beside the still form of John.
He was wearing a suit, his hands clasped on his chest, and his eyes were closed. A look of peace rested on his face, but a faint smile, his warm smile, played like a darting shadow of memory across his features. Instead of the gun was a white rose in Sammy's hand, which she placed inside the casket as dark suited figures watched the young girl in a light blue dress.