Dreams Who Never Come True

Chapter 01: I've Been Dreaming

  Warning: Language & slight bloodshed.

I swing my legs under the bench. The capricious gusts bantered me in euphoric ways. The atmosphere is cool, and unwavering. It softly touches my skin, and I don't feel hot nor cold. It was fresh, relaxing. So relaxing, that in fact, I began to fall asleep. I was being lulled to sleep, like a baby.

The air refreshed me, calmed me. I.. was enjoying this time. This time where I could have my own peace, where I did not have to worry about anything. I wished I could sleep here for eras, days, ages. I wished I could stay here for lightyears.

It was so refreshing. So soothing. I wished I could have this every day, every day of my life. Wishes are quite hard to reach though. Perhaps, one day, in the far-off future, I will find myself enjoying my time like this every day. Under the sunlight. In a cool atmosphere. In a refreshing area. On this bench.

Like my legs, my head rocks back and forth, as my eyes begin to close. My head begins to droop towards the side, and my legs stop swaying. My eyes blink open and close, as the tiredness creeps up me. It creeps up me silently and secretly, never hushing a single word. Tiredness can't speak for itself. It has no voice. But I feel as though it has its own voice, unlike me.

All I see is darkness. Not a single sign of light. Not a single glimpse of hope. It was pitch black, but, only for a matter of seconds.

~*~

  "You fucking piece of shit! I never knew someone who was already shit could be worse than that! Hurry up, bastard!" I hear a man yell. I see him holding a deathly-looking whip in his hands. His expression is marked with nothing but impatience and rage. He glowers at another person, who was carrying heavy boxes on the back of his back.

I peer at the another person—no, a boy, wearing ragged and torn clothes. His face is tattered and tainted with dirt, and his back was full of scars from beatings. His hair was messy. His state was messy. I could not help but just... feel bad for the boy.

I tried to run towards them, try to interfere with them, but no matter how much I ran, no matter how much I moved, I could not reach them. They were just out of reach. It felt like an invisible blockade was in between us. So, I just stand there and watch the horrifying scene be displayed in front of my eyes.

"You think that motherfucking speed will match my fucking expectations?!" The man hisses, and he ruthlessly hits the boy with the whip. It makes a loud, crack! sound, a sound that was not pleasing to the ear. My ears sting for a second, then I turn my attention back to the scene being displayed before my eyes.

The boy falls to the ground, bleeding. Crimson red blood covered the entirety of his foot, but he does not speak. The boy forces himself up again, and hoists the box back over his back. The blood continues to trickle down his foot, onto the ground. I see him writhing in pain, as he clenches his jaw, trying to hold back the pain searing through his foot. The man, the man on the other hand, does not care for the boy's wellbeing.

"Get back to the dirty as hell ground, you piece of shit." That man growls, whipping the boy on his other foot. The boy falls to the ground again, with blood trickling down onto the ground from both of his legs. The boy does not move. He stays on the ground, where all types of maggots and bacteria could creep into his wound. He was...obeying the man.

The boy turns and looks at me in the eyes. He does not speak, but I can read his expression. I can see what he is trying to say. I read nothing but two desperate words.

'Save...me.'

~*~

  Then, I wake up. 

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A/N: Short, not sweet chapter. This feels more like a prologue, but this is going to be important~

-Ripplestream11