The four suddenly woke up, rose up, and had a nightmare. Everything was blurry. Someone called their names, mentioned, somehow, concerned.
“What happened to you all?”
John was still somber, felt the pain on his head and his neck. Paul was disoriented, completely messed up, wiped his face by his handkerchief. George coughed, brushed the cigarette ashes from his jacket. Ringo was still had a nauseous feeling, held Paul’s and George’s sleeve to keep him balance. They did not reply. The manager then sighed, reminded that their family members were completely worried. Once he left the room, the group looked at each other, laughed at their odd appearances.
“Bad dream, huh?” Ringo asked as his body swinging.
“You could say that, Rings.” Paul replied, fixed his hair. “So, what happened to us then?”
“I don’t know.” John replied, feeling drowsy. “But, I don’t want to remember the details.”
“You’re scared, aren’t you?”
“Nah, I am not.” He denied. “You’re the one who panicked, Paul.”
“Can we just get over with it?” George interrupted, stood up. “It’s just only a dream, you know. We did not just die from burying ourselves alive.”
“Oh really?” A voice spoke suddenly.
Everyone remained silent. The three sternly focused on Ringo, thought that their friend tried to make a joke out of it.
“Did you say something, Rings?”
“Nope, George.”
“Neither me.” John and Paul answered altogether, shrugged.
The four looked at each other, doubt about this place, stood up and ran outside. As Paul started the car, everyone went to their respective seats just like in their dream, left the area.
“Not again!”
––– END –––
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