falling

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A knocking on my door wakes me up. I open my eyes to a, almost, pitch black room. The only light is coming from the moon through my curtains and the door being cracked open. I roll over, propping myself up on my elbow. I rub the sleep from my eyes to see a sleepy George standing in my doorway. I furrow my eyebrows. I hear him sniffle as he wipes his nose with his sleeve.

"George...What's wrong?" I fully sit up in my bed, George walking over to my bed to stand next to it. He just shrugs. I move over so he can sit down on the edge of my bed. I pat the space next to me as I fling my legs over the edge of my bed. George sits next to me, wiping tears from his cheeks. I place a hand on his back hesitantly. Not because I was scared he would flinch, but because I haven't really told him about my feelings. He's only been officially moved in for about 3 weeks and I don't want to put pressure on him. I'm also kind of nervous to do it anyways. I start to rub my hand on his back in circles. 

"I think I had a nightmare..." He pauses to collect his thoughts and then continues. "I don't know. I woke up anxious and then I got frustrated when I couldn't fall back asleep even though I'm tired." He starts to cry again, quickly wiping his face as the tears fall.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" I genuinely wanted to know. "Like what can I do to help?" I rephrase my question, in hopes that it doesn't sound like I don't care.

"I know this might be weird, but can I lay down with you to see if I can fall asleep?" George looks at me, tears still dripping down his face and off his chin. I gently wipe one cheek to clear some of his tears. I nod, not seeing the problem with that. We get ourselves situated in my bed. I decided I would let George sleep against the wall just in case someone were to fall off the bed. If anyone were to fall off the bed, I'd rather it be me. George faces the wall and I'm facing the ceiling.

"Goodnight, Dream." I hear George say sleepily and quietly. I could feel his breathing slow steadily against my arm that was pressed against his back. I keep staring at the ceiling, not wanting to move, resisting the urge to roll over and wrap my arms around his small body.

"Goodnight, George." I sigh, looking at the white, plastered ceiling above me. Being here alone has been very draining. I've been in here for a week and I've started to lose my mind. I start to zone out when I hear keys jingling and then the unlocking of the door to my cell. I sit up, seeing one of the officers standing in my doorway.

"You have a visitor." He says, motioning for me to come get handcuffed. I stand, letting the officer handcuff me and I follow him to the visitation room. When we get there, he takes the cuffs off right before letting me in the room. "Just so you know, we have cameras in there even though nobody will be in there with you two." He warns me and I nod in compliance. I open the door to see George sitting there, his face red from crying. I hear the heavy door slam shut behind me and I jump. George looks up at me, standing quickly and running into my arms. He practically falls into me and I have to catch him. His face has become buried in my chest, tears soaking my shirt. I hold him close, my own face finding its way to the crevice between his neck and shoulder. It feels so nice to be able to hold him this close again. Something in George makes him suddenly let go of me and back away from me. He starts to wipe his tears, looking away from me and back at the chair he was just in. He went back to sitting in the chair, staring at his hands that were on the table. I sit in the chair in front of him, weary of taking his shaking hands. I reach for one of them anyways and he moves them away.

"George..." I start and he shakes his head.

"Dream." He says, blunt and cold. "I don't know what the fuck you did, but now you're stuck in here and probably will be for the rest of your life." George sounds hurt, and I can understand why. I open my mouth to say something, but quickly shutting it knowing it won't make anything better. "You know, Sapnap was heartbroken to know that you probably killed someone." The phrase cuts deep like a knife. My best friend being upset over something I might have done; something I did. Tears start to roll silently down my cheeks. "Dream, I'm hurt. How could you do this? How could you do this to us?" He emphasizes the word 'us' as if I did it intentionally.

"George...I.."

"No, Dream. You knew where you and I wanted to go. We were doing so well and then you..." He pauses to gather his thoughts. "I was going to tell you something, you know. I was going to finally say something I've been wanting to say for months, but couldn't bring up the courage to do it. I don't think I can anymore."

"George...."

"Dream, stop." He almost yells. "I don't know if I could ever for-"

"GEORGE!" I yell, tears running down my face out of frustration. George is taken aback by this, his eyes wide. "I literally don't even know if I did it. They're making me think I did by interrogating me every single day. They asked me what my motive was, why they found drugs on the body, who my dealer was. I can't tell you enough that I don't think it was me." I almost yell, letting all of my anger and tears fall out of me like I had nothing left to give. I take a deep breath, starting off soft, but the tears keep flowing like rivers. "George...I was only angry that my car broke down and I had to walk home... I had to walk home and the next thing I remember is that I'm covered head to toe in blood and there's a knife in my hand." I put my head in my hands, not able to look at George with what I could have possibly done.

"Dream..." George starts. I feel his hands wrap around each of my wrists, bringing both of them down to make me look at him. "Why didn't you tell me your car broke down? One of us would have come and gotten you. We could have picked you up..." A single tear rolls down his cheek.

"My phone was almost dead... And you know how I get trying to talk to strangers." I mumble. One of George's hands finds its way to one of my cheeks, his thumb gently wiping my tears. His hand comes back down to mine on the table. "George... I don't think I did this, but I don't know what happened." I look down, pained to not be able to remember what even happened. I hear George take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. His hands move away from mine. I look up to see that he's rubbing his face, the tears noticeably pooling in his eyes. I put my hand on his cheek, rubbing his cheek with my thumb. He puts one of his hands over mine, moving his head to kiss my palm softly. He lets the tears finally fall and I wipe them quickly.

"We'll get through this, Dream." I nod as he takes my free hand. I hear the door open and I sigh, knowing I have to leave.

"Time is up." The officer says, sounding as if he didn't want to take us away from each other. Every time I see this officer, he acts like he just knows. Like something is telling me he has a feeling he knows I didn't do it and so he almost feels bad for me. He was the same officer that let me call George when I first got here. I stand up, still holding George's hand, his other hand taking hold of the one I had on his cheek. 

"We'll get through this, George." My lip starts to quiver as I try my best to stay strong for him, knowing there isn't much I can do until my trial. George nods.

"I-"

"Let's go." The officer cuts off George. I walk around the table, bringing both of my hands to his cheeks. I kiss his forehead gently, letting my hands drop as I pull back from him to walk to the door.

"I'll let you know when I get a lawyer, George." I say as the officer handcuffs me again. I smile weakly and he smiles back as best as he can. The door shuts before either of us could say anything else. I look down at the ground as we walk back to my cell.

You love him, Dream, don't you?

i miss the rain // dnfWhere stories live. Discover now