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Philip fell off his bed with a thud. His eyes snapped open as his hands instinctively reached for his throat, scratching at it until it bled ever so slightly. He swallowed a painful lump that had formed in his throat to moist his dry mouth. His shivering didn't seem to stop. It became even worse as his eyes hurriedly scanned the room for any signs of water.

He needed to confirm that the ocean hadn't followed him into the real world.

...

That sounded stupid.

Inhaling sharply, he rose to his knees. His hands pressed against the cold floors, searching for... something. Something to distract him. From what? He didn't know. He just needed to do... something.

"Fuck..." Cursing, he held his stomach. It felt as if a stampede of horses-- no, elephants, had run over it.

Stumbling to stand up, he held onto the mattress of his bed for support and limped over to his bedside table. He groggily grabbed the bottle of water and took a swig, refreshing both his throat and his mind. After finishing almost half of its contents for Philip held his temple with a groan, still gripping the bottle in his right hand.

He grimaced at the sting before slowly walking over to the bathroom inside his room. Philip flicked the lights on, wincing at the sudden brightness. His eyes were still heavy. As he walked over to the mirror, he subconsciously rubbed his arm where a handprint had begun to form.

Ah, another nightmare.

Philip stared deeply at his reflection, taking in the contents of the train-wreck looking back at him. His eyes were puffy while dark lines rested under his eyes. He almost wanted to laugh at the appearance.

Wait.

...

That train-wreck was him. Sighing, Philip ran a hand through his hair, stopping midway to pull at his hair. He shut his eyes tightly, he leaned on the sink.

He needed a therapist.

Why did he have reoccurring nightmares? As far as he knew, those were impossible. At least, in Country Leaders.

Was this a side effect of falling through universes? Perhaps. The more Philip thought about it, the more his head hurt.

"What should I do..." he mumbled to himself as he glanced at his bed. A shiver ran down his spine as a flash of the ocean crossed his mind. "Not the bed," he mumbled, turning away from it.

Pursing his lips, he walked out of his room. Philip cautiously glanced around the hallway, silently tiptoeing and flinching at the slightest of sounds. He needed to make sure that no one saw him; he was too exhausted to explain why he was up at...

Glancing at the clock, he squinted his eyes to adjust to the lighting.

Quarter to 4 in the morning.

A small, irritated sigh escaped his lips. He looked around the hall. The moon illuminated the room as the light came through beams that seeped between the gaps of curtains. A soft, faded glow dusted the walls and floors, as well as the framed paintings of the pictures of Philip's family that they would take every five years. Philip smiled softly. He remembered how painful it was to sit in the same spot for hours, just to come back the next day.

He passed the first picture. He took the entire picture in and let it sink. Perla's smile was as gentle as a feather, but her eyes held the determination of raising strong leaders. Kati had a proud grin on his face with strong arms clasping the two brother's shoulders. Ah, brothers. The two children in the painting were smiling brightly, holding each other's hands tightly. The painting didn't quite capture how bright the children's faces were, but Philip didn't mind.

𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑬《 Philippines CountryHumans AU 》Where stories live. Discover now