to be determined [A FORMER WATTPAD FEATURED STORY]

FOURTEEN

"He wants to talk to you."

"No," I choke out.

Dr. Francesca Letterman is speechless. She doesn't really know what to say; I can see it in her flustered movements and mouth widening every so often.

"Do you recognize him?" she says, slowly, drawling out every word in a whisper.

I look up to the ceiling.

"Yes."

"Was he the man from your dream?"

I close my eyes with my head thrown back against the pillow.

"Yes."

So she nods, beginning to walk out of the room, and I swear that I see her walk over to the man, beginning to socialize with him.

So tears slip away from my eyelids again.

Except rather than being tears of loneliness, or confusion, or restlessness, they are hot tears of betrayal.