It Wasnt My Fault (DNF)

Part 1: Chapter 15

Dream pov

I sat in bed, drenched with sweat after revisiting my traumas once again.

I'd been with George about three weeks, and by now awakening to the bedroom drenched in darkness was routine.

Routine.

Something I had longed for but now haunted me much alike the voice that couldnt reach me durring those hours.

Haunt.

I was always being haunted.

Haunted by the mistakes of my past.

My past.

Filled with unspeakable things that my only friend must never know.

Friend.

Someone I loved past platonic.

George.

The name of safety, having the eyes of mystery, keeping things I was never allowed to know behind deep brown pupils.

Eyes.

The lifeless eyes of a ghost I had never seen, a torture that weighed heavier on my mental state than would seem, making it so that the voice was confined to my head, the hissing was my own.

I was breathing too fast.

Fast.

Life had passed so quickly, yet my first 14 years seemed so slow. Life hadnt begun until then, and so it felt as though I was younger than I was, and yet I wanted to end it.

I let out a dry chuckle as my wide eyes stared at the green sheets covering my legs, lost in a stupor of my own creation.

I had run for so long just to jump off the edge.

I had escaped just to be tied down to a life I felt confined to.

I had stayed alive so that I could live a fruitful life just to want to end it.

I was shaking, my hands vibrating against the blonde locks that weren't able to join the rest in flopping beside my eyes.

I didnt want to feel like this; I wanted it to stop,.

It was scary, feeling like this. I didnt want a repeat of my last panic attacks.

I hated being trapped within a chamber of a voice that didn't belong to me.

"G-George.." I whisper, my voice cracking with the small excretion of speech.

He wouldn't be able to hear me.

He wouldn't be able to help me.

He didnt know I was suffering.

I folded in on myself, beginning to sob.

"G-George!" I call, louder, the name shaking upon its exit from my trembling lips.

However, I knew he would be able to hear it.

He would hear me, and he would help me.

I almost laughed with relief as I began to hear heavy, rapid footfalls in the hallway outside my bedroom door before it swung open forcefully.

"Dream?" the brunette's voice calmed me, distracted me from the prospect of the one that followed me into the depths of my insecurities.

"Can you hear me?" George asks. I nod the best I could.

"Alright, well..." he looked frantic, his worried gaze flitting all around. "I kinda suck at comforting people, but I'll do my best... um, do you want a hug?"