Duckling (Dream smp Au)

Chapter 8

Takes place in the past 

~WARNING~ 

-Death 

-Manipulation 

- minor mentions of alcohol 

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 Dream sat in front of the small shop. His hands trembled as he stared out to the ocean. He felt as if he was drowning in that very water. Every breath felt like it was suffocating him, like it was going to be the last. The boy couldn't blink without the feeling that if he closed his eyes they might not open. He looked over and watched the crowd of people in front of the window to the shop.

He glanced at the crowd as they cleared a way for two men coming through the door, holding a stretcher.

He heard the crowd as they talked to one another. The stretcher held a figure that was covered by a white cloth. Dream's eyes traced the outline of the figure, trying to forget the face. He saw the figure's gentle old hand dangle limply from beneath the ghostly cloth, he looked away before the crowd could see him cry. He gripped his hair, wishing to pull it out.

"She really is dead." One man whispered.

"How did this happen?"

"Her age finally caught up to her I guess."

Dream forced the crowd's voices out of his head and focused on the crashing waves of the ocean.

"Are you Dream?"

Dream looked up and saw a woman holding a clipboard. He looked back down at his shoes and nodded, his body trembled.

"Hello Dream, I'm Miss Catherine" She knelt down to be at level with Dream. "I work at the Brockman Orphanage." Dream stayed quiet. "I'll be taking you there since your uncle is not suited to take care of you." Dream knew what the lady meant. He hadn't met his uncle but from what he heard he was an alcoholic and was known to sometimes lash out because of that. "It says here that you've been here before" She peered down at the clipboard. Dream looked down at his hand and rubbed his fingers together, trying to wake himself up from this nightmare. Miss Catherine stood up and sighed. "Come on Dream, it's time to go."

She grabbed Dream's wrist and pulled him up. Dream's eyes widened as if reality ran right into him. He ripped his wrist from the woman's grasp and ran.

"Dream get back here!" She yelled, running after him.

Dream opened the door to the shop and slammed it behind him. He ran to his room and glanced up at a shelf. His wooden duckling was sat next to his books. He grabbed the precious item and stuffed it into his pocket. The door from down stairs opened and he heard footsteps coming up the wooden staircase. He looked to the window of his room. His legs were shaking with adrenaline as the sound of footsteps paced closer. Dream slid the window open and crawled out, halfway to freedom.

"Dream! If you run, you'll never get to read your grandmother's goodbye!" Dream looked over his shoulder and saw the woman holding a letter.

"What?" He whispered between his breath. His attention locked on the envelope. Dream's gaze inspected the writing, it was Nana's.

"Now be a good boy and come here." Her voice became harsh as she reached out her other hand to him.

Dream glanced over to the roof that was beneath his window, it was an easy jump for him. He sat in the window sill, hesitating. He slowly planted both of his feet onto the rug of his room. He hung his head low and walked solemnly over to the woman.

Her smile was fake. "Don't worry about packing new clothes, we will have a uniform ready for you." Her perky voice came back as she directed Dream to the stairs. She held onto his shoulders, limiting his freedom.

Every step he took was slow and heavy as he was compelled to walk. His eyes took in everything for the last time, starving for his childhood back. His mask stood out from the rest. He stopped and stared at the mysterious item. It's hollow eyes stared back at him. Miss Catherine walked ahead of Dream, one of her hands still resting on his shoulder, and held the door open.

"Dream, come on." She said. Dream's back was turned to her, his attention focused on the shelf. He faced her again and walked somberly out the door, he held himself close. The woman led him to a cart with two large, dark horses awaiting their arrival. An old man sat at the reins and held a long and cruel whip. The man's eyes were bitter and seemed to always be angry. Dream lifted himself into the back of the wagon and rested himself against a barrel when he sat down. The woman climbed up and sat next to the creepy old man. She nodded to him and the crack of the whip made Dream flinch. Dream pulled out from under his shirt a wooden mask with an unsettling smile. He hugged the item close to his chest and curled into a small ball. His head laid on a bag of flour and he watched the rolling hills of wheat. They passed the forest where he had countless adventures with his friends, where they had played and created memories. Dream gripped the mask and pulled out the wooden duckling.

Why couldn't it always be that way. He wished quietly. He tried to reach for his remaining happy memories to help him sleep. What would mom have done?

He held them close to his chest as he quietly cried so that they couldn't hear him. The swaying of the wagon and the constant clopping of hooves hitting the ground made Dream too uncomfortable to sleep. Tears seeped through his shut eyes and burned his face. 

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