Tall blades of green grass tickled Layla’s cheek as she slowly woke from her deep slumber. Curiously, she found herself in an open field of wild flowers of many brilliant, vivid colors. Her head throbbed in a constant momentum making it dizzying to stand. She held her forehead for a few moments, squinting at the pain, but after awhile the aching subsided and she carefully observed her peculiar surroundings.
“Where am I? How did I get here?” she wondered to herself.
She shook off the blades of grass from her long black hair and adjusted her clothes, patting out the wrinkles. She began walking through the lush green field, which eventually transitioned abruptly into a barren wasteland of nothing but desert sands as far as the eye could see.
She was about to turn back when she noticed something moving far away in the sandy terrain. At first she simply thought it was a plant or tree swaying in the wind, however it began moving towards her. It moved at a staggering slow pace, so she decided to venture out into the hot desert sand to get a better look at the figure.
When she finally came within distance to make out the silhouette, she discovered it was a young man; a very handsome young man at that. He trudged slowly through the desert with the look of utter exhaustion on his face. Perspiration covered his entire body soaking his tattered clothes with sweat. His mangy brown hair was filled with sand and his skin was burnt from the sun. Despite his naturally beauty, he was a pitiful sight.
Layla started running towards him to assist him, for the man looked as if he would fall over at any moment. As she approached him, Layla could hear the man’s deep coarse breaths straining his throat. Without saying a word, he stared at her for a long moment with an expression of remorse in his eyes. He extended his tanned arm towards her. She cautiously extended her hand in return. However, as she touched the man’s hand, he fell to his knees abruptly. Something bizarre happened then.
A violent wind began to blow across the desert in a demonic rage. Sand engulfed both Layla and the man, however she refused to let go of his hand. She closed her eyes and shielded her face from the unexpected terrorizing storm. She then suddenly felt the man’s arm go limp. She could hardly open her eyes to see him, but she knew what had happened. It was as if the desert’s intent was to kill the man.
Eventually the storm passed, leaving both Layla and the man covered in sand. She pulled her buried feet from the ground and shook off the remaining sand from her clothing. She let go of the man’s hand and put it near his side. His motionless body laid there half buried in sand. He had a dispirited expression about his face; a face that wished to live on, but didn’t have a choice of whether he could or not.
Though she did not know the man, she felt a deep feeling of sorrow and empathy for him. Uncontrolled, Layla fell to her knees and began to cry. The sun dried her tears almost instantly as they made their way down her face. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand as she gently shut the man’s eyes.
She then looked around, and to her surprise the grassy field was gone. “What was going on?” she thought. There was nothing but desert in every direction.
Layla sat in the sand, closed her eyes, and buried her head in her arms while rocking back and forth until she suddenly felt her body’s energy draining. Her body felt heavy and her throat dry. Her lips began to chap and her clothes started to appear ragged and worn. Soon she found that she didn’t even have enough energy to sit up. Layla fell harshly onto her back, and while the intensity of the sun continued to take its toll on her, darkness consumed her. When she tried opening her eyes, all she could perceive was pure black.
Layla gradually woke up out of her trance, but her dehydrated body still lay motionless in the eternal golden terrain of death. That much of her dream remained true. The sand grinding between her teeth and clothes was immensely agitating. Several feet away lay three individuals who seem to have already gone to their final spiritual resting place. Painfully she turned her head to find the face of a very familiar man lying right beside her; it is her dead husband. She wanted to hold him, but realized both her arms were broken and her legs had large lacerations on them. Scattered several feet away are the disfigured remains of their burning airplane, aflame in the perpetual desert. The only sound that can be heard is the cackling of fire still burning through the remains of the plane.
Layla let out an uncanny laugh. She now remembered everything. A vacation that was supposed to be relaxing went terribly wrong when their plane’s engine failed. Layla’s laughs of irony turned into weeping. She cried loud and long, despite the pain from simply breathing. She wept until she couldn’t weep anymore. She knew the bitter realization that she had to accept; she knew she was going to die.
Layla made peace with herself and used her last ounce of energy to painfully shift her body over to be near to her dead husband. She managed to crawl close enough to be able to rest her chin on his shoulder as her body slowly began to shutdown.