Girl (completed)

10

   When we got home, my anger had turned to sadness. I so badly just wanted to bawl, but I wouldn't give my father that satisfaction, so I held it in.
  Neither of us said a word on the way home, and with the silence grew hatred. I hated him for insulting John, and I hated him for not I understanding how I felt.
When we got home, I decided to talk to George about it. I knocked on his door lightly, and he called for me to come in.
"Hey," I said quietly, and George set his guitar down. I sat on the bed, and looked around. I hadn't been in this room in ages, but nothing had changed drastically. Just a few new posters here and there, and a new record player.
"Hi," he said, and I gulped, somewhat regretting coming in here at all.
"I hate him, and it doesn't matter how much I try, I always will," I fumed quietly, and George looked at me knowingly. He too knew the full force of my father's wrath, but he somehow always forgave him.
"Maybe one day, if you'd just try..." George started, and I felt tears prick my eyes, but I dared not let them fall. I stood up and faced away from him so that he couldn't see my glassy eyes.
"George, you're really taking his side?!" I asked, angered with him for not sympathizing with me.
"I didn't say that. He's done a lot of wrong, but he's the only father we're ever going to get," George reasoned, and I hated that he was so cool-headed while I felt like I was falling apart.
  "George, I just need you to be on my side for this. I just need someone to tell me that I'm not losing my head," I said, trying to calm myself, but to no avail.
  "Okay, Blaire. I see where you're coming from, and I totally understand your anger towards him. I would be angry too if he..." he started, and for the first time I spun towards him, tears distorting my vision.
  "If he had hung you out to dry when you needed him most, as he did me?" I asked, and I saw George's fists clench.
"Blaire, we all made mistakes, and you were the one that payed for it, okay? We all blamed ourselves for an entire year! You have no idea what it was like around here! You need to learn to forgive! It's over, Blaire!" George lectured, and I felt my muscles stiffen.
"It might be over for you, but it'll never be over for me, George, and you could never begin to understand that! And he hasn't even said sorry," I said, my voice wavering on the last sentence, and then falling silent all together.
  "Blaire, I'm sorry. You're right, I don't understand what that's like, so it isn't fair to judge you, but I don't think you understand. When you left, dad stopped drinking. I don't think I'd ever seen him without a bottle in his hand until last year, and now, he's completely sober. And you have to understand, it affected him greatly too. He doesn't want you to be out too late, because he can't let anything happen to you ever again. And I understand that it's hard to see, but he does have love in his heart," George said, and I felt myself calm down a little. I unclenched my fists, and all of my muscles relaxed. My heart rate when down, and my breathing calmed.
   "George, it's just so hard, but I'll try," I promised, and he smiled weakly, pushing my bangs out of my face.
   "I just want to see you smile again, Blaire. You used to always look so happy, a genuine smile on your face," he said, and I looked away awkwardly, not being able to give him what he wanted.
  As I fell asleep, I dreamt that I was a princess in a beautiful castle.
"Princess Blaire, you have to come with me. You are being imprisoned, and are to be executed at high noon tomorrow," a voice said, and I turned to see George.
  "George?" I asked, and he looked down at me in scrutiny.
"Come along," he said, and I tried to fight him off as he brought me to a jail cell. There was a dripping of water, and it became rhythmic. I kneeled in front of the window, looking at the moon and saying a quick prayer for my own wellbeing.
"Miss, it's time," a voice announced behind me, and I felt him grab me, pulling me harshly out of the cell.
"No! No, it can't be! It's not until tomorrow!" I cried, fighting him off as best I could, but to no avail. He dragged me through a crowd of people, and everyone was surrounding a stake. He dragged me to it, and began to tie me up.
I struggled against the restraints, but he just pulled it tighter, causing it to bite into my skin. I looked at my family, who all sat in thrones and watched the event unfold before them.
  "Dad, please! Don't do this!" I cried, but my pleads had no effect on him.
  "Mom!" I yelled, and she looked down, avoiding my gaze. I thrashed desperately, but he had already tied me, and was setting the fire underneath me.
  "Any last words, witch?" My father asked, and tears ran down my cheeks.
  "Georgie, please," I said, my one last attempt at redemption failing.
  Suddenly, the fire caught onto my dress, and quickly spread. I wailed out in agony, and everyone just laughed.
  I felt the searing hit flames lick my skin, and quickly devoured me whole, meanwhile the cackling filled my ears.
  "Blaire! Wake up!" I felt George shake me, and I sat up, drenched in sweat. I looked up at George, and he looked worried.
   "George! It felt so real," I said, my voice cracking and sobs wracking my entire body.
   "Shh, it's okay. You know it wasn't real," he said, not even asking what it was about, which was okay because I didn't want to talk about it. The vivid pain from the dream quickly subsided, and I just sat in my bed with George for a while.
•••
Well weak ending BUT WHY CAN I WRITE VIVID ASS DREAMS BUT THE REST SUCKS?!!! WHATTT?!