Every midnight, Christine experiences strange, vivid dreams-dreams that feel more like hidden messages than illusions. As she, Nathan, Mickey and Ford navigate the complexities of their friendships and unspoken emotions, they begin to realize that t...
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Christine couldn't stop crying, and even I found myself shedding tears. But Nathan—he stood there emotionless, as if he felt nothing at all.
“I’ll go buy us some food,” Nathan said.
“Don’t bother coming back,” I snapped, making him pause mid-step.
“This is all your fault,” I continued, my voice rising. “You should have just gone with your father. That way, we wouldn’t have been dragged into this mess—Mickey wouldn’t have died!” I shouted, unable to contain my anger any longer.
“If I had gone with him, I would have died,” Nathan replied flatly.
“You didn’t die, but Mickey did. It should have been you,” I spat.
“Can you two stop this?!” Christine interjected, her voice shaking with frustration. “You’re fighting at a time like this? At least show some respect for Mickey. And you, Nathan—none of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.”
Nathan exhaled sharply. “Fine… If that’s what you want, I won’t come back.” He turned toward his room, and within minutes, he emerged with his belongings before walking out the door without another word.
---
(Nathan P.O.V)
This is all your fault…
You should have gone with your father…
Mickey wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for you…
The words echoed in my head, over and over. I… I had caused another death.
(Christine P.O.V)
Was I too harsh on Nathan? Should I apologize?
I tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake off the guilt. He didn’t deserve the blame—not entirely. He had no way of knowing this would happen.
Before I could decide, I found myself back in the Nightmare World. But something was different this time—we were no longer in the forest.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around.
Nathan scanned the surroundings. “I think… this is their territory.”
Their. As in his father’s. As in the people responsible for all of this—our parents, Mickey’s parents, and Ford’s parents.
A large curtain was pulled back, and soon, they stepped forward.
“Why are we here?” Nathan demanded.
“I have a question for you,” his father said, his voice eerily calm.
“Then why bring them along? You could’ve just asked me alone,” Nathan retorted.
“I wanted them to hear your final answer.” His father’s gaze was unwavering. “So tell me, Nathan—will you come with me?”
Nathan clenched his jaw. “As I said before—no. I will never go with you.”
His father sighed but didn’t argue. “If you ever change your mind, just call my name.” With a snap of his fingers, we were back in the real world.
I expected it to still be night, but when I glanced at the clock, it was already 8:00 AM.
When I walked into the living room, Ford was there.
“Maybe I should head home now,” he said.
“Yeah… sure,” I replied softly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll still come by sometimes,” he added, flashing a small smile before he left.
---
After that day, I never had another dream.
Ford visited a few more times over the next three days, and by the end of the week, it was clear that our time in the Nightmare World was over.
But Nathan? Where was he? It had been a month since I last saw him.
<Park>
While walking Mallow in the park, I noticed a familiar figure sitting on a bench. Even from behind, I had a strong feeling it was Nathan.
I hesitated before stepping closer. “Nathan?”
He turned around, confirming my suspicion. I managed a small smile, but I could see it—his sadness, heavy and unmistakable.
I sat beside him. “Are you okay?”
“Can we… Can we spend the day together?” he asked unexpectedly.
---
Later, I handed him a cup of hot coffee and sat beside him again.
“Nathan… I was cruel. I let my grief cloud my judgment, and I hurt you. I’m truly sorry.” I admitted. But instead of replying, Nathan leaned his head on my shoulder.
Was something wrong?
“Nathan… do you want to talk about it?” I asked gently.
"Everywhere I go, people die because of me. My father, Mickey… I don’t deserve to be here."
I froze. “What are you talking about? That’s not true. If you’re thinking about what Ford and I said… we didn’t mean it. We were overwhelmed by grief.”
But… I still couldn’t fully understand. Had he really killed his father?
“Can I rest here?” he asked quietly.
“Of course. But… wouldn’t it be more comfortable in your old room?”
“No. Here is fine,” he said, lying down on the couch.
I watched him for a moment before heading to my room, turning off the lights. Maybe Ford and I had been too harsh on him. Maybe Ford should apologize too.
I picked up my phone and typed out a message.
Christine: You should apologize to Nathan. He thinks he killed Mickey because of what we said.
I didn’t expect a response so late at night.
I turned in bed, restless. I missed Mickey. I didn’t understand why the dreams had stopped. And now, I was worried about Nathan.
Did he take everything we said to heart? Why hadn’t I thought about how cruel my words sounded before I said them? This was my fault—I blamed him for my grief, and now he was suffering because of it.
What if… What if Nathan had fallen into depression because of us?
(Ford P.O.V)
I read Christine’s message but didn’t reply. Instead, I let her words sink in.
Maybe she was right… But I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to apologize yet. Because, if I were being honest… I was still angry.
I knew it was wrong to place blame. But in my heart, I felt I had a reason to.
