It Wasnt My Fault (DNF)

Part 1: Chapter 14

George pov two days later

I looked through the crack of my friend's door in the early hours of the morning, once again watching as he dreamed.

Once again wishing that I could help ease him to this mental state in his waking hours.

Once again wondering what continued to bother him.

Once again walking towards his bed, sitting down and running my fingers through his long blonde locks.

Once again whispering the words I was too afraid to speak in the sunlight.

Doing the things i was too scared to do in the moonlight when his beautiful eyes reflected darkly at me, eyes full of hope for something I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to give him.

Once again, I was whimpering quietly at the hopelessness for Dream's mental state.

I didnt know what to do to help him, and he wasn't getting any better.

Unsure as to how to get him to speak to me, tell me the words that were swirling around his mind, waging wars on his conscience while he refused to alliance of others- all of it hurt me.

Not knowing how to approach him about his waning will to rise from the bed each day, I was left to peer at his unease from afar as the hissing and cackling sounds filled the room around him - it broke me.

Seeing his eyes filled with anxiety, his mouth turned down in a frown that was crafted to suppress tears while I was unable to come to his aid - it was killing me.

And so I had to turn to times like this, when there was nothing but a scape of his own creation that I could help ease him into each night.

The only thing that I was doing was keeping him from the death he craved and the blades that brought the relief he sought.

And it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough, but I couldnt do anything better.

So I sat there, the tear tracks of nights prior burning into my skin once more, a repetition of my everyday life.

I wasn't getting any better, either, and I felt as though I would be the death of us both.

I wasn't going outside, and my thoughts became more hostile.

I wasn't listening to Ken when he told me to sleep, wasnt feeding myself when Dream gave me strange looks at my failure to eat.

I wasnt paying attention to myself anymore because I couldnt.

I couldnt bare to see the person I'd come to care about so goddamn much slip away from me.

I cared about him too much. I had gotten too attached too quickly, knowing that I wouldn't be able to bare it if I failed to help him.

If I failed, he died, and I would wish upon myself the same hell that had consumed my saint of a brother.

Dream was awakening now, and I was quick to retract my hand, wiping my eyes as his lifeless eyes fluttered open, catching me in the act.

"What are you doing?" he says.

"Nothing, just the usual. I need to be there for you." I say, trying to evade the burning question of my wettened cheeks.

"What were you crying?" he asks, sitting up.

"I'm fine." I say, the words slipping off my tongue quickly, too easily for it to be a lie, and too many times for the past week of me uttering it.

"I need you to tell me what's going on, George, please?" he was facing me now, taking my hands in his own and caressing my knuckles with his warm fingers.

"I...." I was unsure as to how I was to escape this. How...?

As the day began, Ken slowly began to appear, looking at me pleadingly, begging me to accept the help that I wanted to give.

It's all too hard to accept the help that you protrude.

It's all too easy to tell others the words you need to hear.

It's too hard to let go of the things that aren't important for the sake of nothing changing.

It's too easy to keep the things that you need so that you can cover up your emotions for the things you don't.

It's too easy to replicate, to pretend, and to lie.

So why is it so difficult to replace the thoughts of death with wishes for the life that lay ahead? So hard to prevent yourself and others from picking up the blade that slices hurt into so many at once.

"I'm too worried about you to worry about myself." Despite my words being few, they held great value.

It held all too much truth so that I wished I hadnt uttered them.

"George," he sounded tired. Tired of fighting and tired of living with so much struggle around him.

"I don't want you to worry about me to the point of your death. I need you here. You need me here. We're here to keep each other afloat." I'm pulled into an embrace that had been granted to me over the course of weeks, but had never been accompanied by the understanding I needed there.

Alright, I hate this chapter.

We'll be doing more Clay pov bc right now, he plays a more important and interesting role.

I have an outline for this story now, so there's that.

Updates will be a little slow bc my family and I are really busy this week, but I'll still, of course, be on and off Wattpad checking in and writing whenever I can.

I love you all, and I hope I'm able to bring a smile to your faces when you read these chapters.

I'll see you when I see you if I see you.

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