MASK! DREAMNOTFOUND

6

SONG: You'd Be Paranoid Too, Waterparks

GEORGE

You know that weird feeling that some one is watching you. Yeah, that's what I felt all night.

I came home unnoticed. Dragging Wisdom up the stairs was least of my worries as I got to my room and witnessed myself in the mirror.

My clothes, face and hands were stained red, blood dripping from the tips of my fingers and into the sink. The visions of the man laying lifelessly on the floor boggled my mind.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry in someone's arms, telling them anything and everything that had just happened. I wanted to be over and done with Wisdom.

They laid there on the vacant floor as blood dripped from the gears and parts. They were completely ruined, it had taken me years.

Years I could never take back.

I didn't have that time anymore and I for sure didn't have the motivation to complete them now. It was a waste.

I was a waste,

and a murderer,

or could I just tell my mind that Clay forced me? I wasn't just going to let him die for me.

He was going to let you die. I thought to myself before quickly washing the stains eating my entire body to nothing but a lost and frantic boy.

My hands were still shaking as I turned off the tap, removing my clothing and throwing it to the side of my room to deal with later. I ran my hands across my panicking body until I fell onto my bed, tossing and turning hopefully into a dream that I would never wake up from.

Dream

He's all I thought about. The way his eyes told you shut up, or the way his hair dripped from the sweat that lingered around his bright green eyes.

Not only did I wake up in a cold sweat the next morning to a loud banging on my door but also only the thoughts of the mysterious boy named Clay.

Who worked for a organization that are planning to kill me.

Covering up the evidence that morning was simple. I had scattered all the clothes and Wisdom around the room, under the bed and drawers. Knowing that no one searched my room without my permission.

I walked down the stairs, a small limp in my step from all of the walking and fighting that I had dealt with yesterday.

My family all sat around the large bronze table filled with candle lightning and a full buffet of breakfast. I sat beside my father who reassured the waiters that enough flowers were placed around the table.

"Thank you, thank you." Was all he assured with, shooing the figures out of his sight and far away into the kitchen where they would normally be.

"You look rough, did you get any sleep?" My mother asked concerned.
"Yeah, are those scratches all across your neck?" My sister put her fingers to the nook of my jawline. I lightly grabbed her hand, placing it on the table and with every single piece of hope left in me I let out a big smile and laugh.