Philophobia And Mizpah

Chapter 1

TW: mention of self-harm

Birds screeched, flying out of the forest. The horse breathed out, shaking its head. The snow was melting, leaving trails of water and mud on the dark forest. It was as quiet as it usually was. Dream huffed a laugh. This was his last visit. His last visit before he would put in place his plan. Everything was set up nice and slowly. He had time to bid farewell to his friends. If he can even call them that. They'd parted in their own ways, on their own journey. But Dream knew he wouldn't see a certain friend for a long time. He patted his horse's mane and passed the threes of the silent forest in a trot.

The house he was looking for was deep in the forest, farther away from the tapia forest. Right in the middle. He knew he would find his friend asleep. He didn't quite understand why or how, but no matter the state of consciousness of his friend, he was going to wake him up. His horse grew tired and he knew he needed to feed it soon. He was so close. Then it appeared.

The little cottage was made with mushrooms. No smoke came out of the chimney. Vines had covered the walls, weeds had taken over the small garden and small mushrooms grew everywhere. Dream wondered if the inside was worse. Had his friend been asleep for that long? Maybe he shouldn't have ever left him. He felt a tug inside his chest, but he ignored it. Suppressed it.

He didn't bother to knock. The door was stuck, giving him a hard time opening it. He had to use his full body weight to make the door budge. At last, it opened and Dream wasn't surprised by the sight. His friend, George, was sleeping, dust everywhere. Some small spider webs formed around the corners of the house, the floor was humid and moss was getting everywhere. Dream placed a hand on George's shoulder, shaking him. George groaned but didn't open his eyes. Dream smiled behind his mask.  What a baby, he thought light-heartedly.

He placed his other hand on the other shoulder and shook George almost out of bed. George gasped and opened his eyes. Dream stopped. George sent him a disapproving look. Then, his face morphed into surprise until it settled down with anger. He quickly sat on his bed, very aware of his surroundings. Dream wondered. Why was George angry at him?

"Hey, Georgie," Dream smirked.

"What do you want? You're not playing tricks on me, are you?"

That stopped Dream's train of thoughts. Playing tricks? What was George talking about? He brushed it off. Maybe George was not as awake as he thought he was.

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

George blinked at him. His face shifted to a more confused one.

"What do you mean, 'saying goodbye'? Where are you leaving?"

"I don't know when will be the next time we'll see each other," Dream shrugged. He wondered if George would trust him more if he took off his mask. Maybe seeing something familiar might help with the situation. He wasn't being as honest as he wished to be. He couldn't alarm his friend with his true intentions.

"I... I'm not sure I understand what is going on. You're leaving me?"

Now, Dream wouldn't have phrased it this way. Usually, George was careful one with phrasing and Dream was the one who didn't care. But now? This was throwing him off. The tug got tighter around his chest. He didn't like that. This was why he wanted to say goodbye. He needed closure. If George went around not caring about his phrasing, well, Dream wasn't sure what he'd do.

"Woah, why do you gotta say it like that? We decided to go our own ways already, don't tell me all this sleep has been giving you amnesia?"

George was about to speak, but cut himself off. He looked down, frowning. He closed his hands, nails digging in his palms. He was getting anxious. Well, that wasn't good.