1. The Last Flight. Chapter 20


    Date: 7/13/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Annamagique, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    We ate in silence at first. The chicken was delicious, cooked to perfection and the fresh salad was just what we needed on such a warm evening. The girls had made some fresh Lemonade with water that had been kept in the refrigerator “Karen?” I realised that my dad was speaking to me. “Oh, I'm sorry, I was miles away,” I answered. “I was just asking how you are getting on,” he said. “Getting on?” I queried. “Yes, with your leg and nightmares and so on.” He seemed a little puzzled that I hadn't understood. “Oh yes, I see.” I paused. “I'm sorry,” I apologised again, “I was a little preoccupied. I had a strange dream last night and it is slowly coming back to me.” “Ah, I see,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “So nothing has changed then...” “Oh yes, it has,” I looked at Pascale and smiled, “For the first time, last night, I slept without waking. Although I dreamed, I was no longer petrified. The dream was strange and I felt anxiety but not great fear. Pascale looked after me.” I added the final sentence as I smiled in appreciation toward her. She smiled back. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. Again I glanced at Pascale who was still looking at me but with eagerness now and expectation. “Perhaps,” I began, “I am not sure...” Françoise put her hand on my forearm. “Do not rush into it if you are not yet ready,” she said. I thought for a while. “No, it is fine,” I conceded eventually, “It is probably best to let it out and there is no-one else in the world whom I ...
    trust more than you all.” I began to recount the dream from the beginning and as I went on, every little detail returned. When I ended the part about my mum and the apologies to all those people whose names I could see, Françoise interrupted me. “You know, Karen,” she began, “There is nothing at all sinister in your dream. It is not unusual for survivors to feel guilty about not dying with all those who did not survive. The feeling stems from your fears that you didn't do enough to help them.” “But what if I didn't, Françoise, what if I had done more instead of just trying to open doors?” “What could you have done, Sweetheart?” my father asked, “Without the doors being opened you could all have perished. You said yourself, there was a strong smell of fuel and the engine had been ablaze. What if the leaking fuel had ignited whilst you tried to dress wounds or administer other forms of treatment? Then no-one would have got out. You saved the lives of ten people. You almost lost your own life anyway in getting those people out. You have nothing, and I mean nothing at all, to be regretful for!” I sighed. I knew he was right but something inside me just wouldn't let it go. “Mum said that I had saved them, that just because their time was not yet come, the Reaper could still have taken them.” “Ah yes, your mother,” Françoise continued, “You have had a very lonely life since she died. It is only natural that you would be thinking of her and there was most definitely nothing you could ...
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