Nightmares

Episode 6.2

I believed him.

What a perfect life! I have a job, my own apartment, a cute boyfriend who loves me so much. I know he has some ghost problem and all, I'll see into it later. Nonetheless, what a perfect life!

He's sleeping on my arm, calmly. As if the tale he told me yesterday never happened. He really doesn't care at all. After he sees a ghost, he stays scared for some time, then gets back to his happy life again. Not bothering how to stop those things which are haunting him. Why is he like that? I turn to look at him. But I do care. How can I keep letting him get hurt and do nothing?

He opens his eyes slightly and yawns. "Good morning," I say kissing his cheek.

"Good morning," he smiles and lies on top of me, cuddling. His under-eye bags are really cute after he wakes up. 

I rest my hand on his back. "Baby?" I say 

"Yeah?"

"If I take you somewhere else from here, I mean, from this city. What kind of place would you like?"

"Um," he thinks, "With lots of flowers outside,"

"Okay, and?"

"Mountains,"

"Mountains? We'll see that, and? Would you want something in the house?"

"Uh, um, a puppy,"

I laugh. He's really so cute, "Okay, we can raise a dog. What else?"

"Can we have a chimney?"

"The fireplace chimney?"

"Yeah,"

I chuckle, "For Santa to come?"

"There's nothing like Santa, I know,"

Wow, there's nothing like Santa but there's a thing like ghosts. Sounds so unreasonable. "Then for what?"

"It keeps the house warm. I like warm," he said. 

"Oh, ok, noted," I glance at the clock, 8:45 am. "Well, let's plan later, or you'll be late for college,"

"I have college today?"

"Yes, you forgot? You should go, you're almost fine now," 

He groans, "I don't wanna go,"

I made him sit up, "Go get fresh, I'll make breakfast,"

He's so slow. Meanwhile, I prepared his backpack, put his lunchbox, made his breakfast, brought him spare clothes. He didn't come from the bathroom for long, I went to check, he slept brushing his teeth. "Joshua!" I wake him up and help him get ready fastly. He's such a child, a literal toddler. 

We reached in time. "If something happens, call me instantly. Eat your lunch, take your medicines on time. And be safe, okay?" I said. He nodded. "Bye!" I cup his face and give him a long kiss. After I saw him safely entering the college gate, I moved my steering toward his house. 

Ok, let's get this over with.

I parked my car just outside. The house is still the same as it was before leaving. But it's looking quite scary now after knowing what happened here, like an abandoned building standing alone in barren. I take a breath and enter inside, a cool breeze hits my face. I turn on the lights in the living room.

 After what Joshua told me yesterday I can picture every scene here. The shattered glass pieces were still on the floor, the blood has dried though, the broken flower vase that hit his head, fallen floor lamp when he stumbled upon its wire. Bloody fingers on the wall when he tried to support himself, following the blood handprints my eyes went to the front door, my heart skipped after I imagined him banging on it, crying for help. I still am guilty about it. That's why I came here to repay him.

I went to do what I'm here for. His art room. It has a lot of secrets that can tell me my answers. I know nothing's gonna happen to me here, relying on how Joshua says that ghosts don't come near me. The door was opened, I picked up the clown painting from the ground and look at it for a moment.

"What did you see in your dream?"

"A clown,"

"What are you painting?"

"My dream,"

He was making this the morning before I left for the interview. Why does it have fangs?

"You didn't do anything. It was that clown-"

"Ghost clown?"

"It had fangs. Humans don't have fangs."

I throw it and look at the others, to know if it was the same case with them too. His mother's horrific portrait he was making that day.

"I dreamt about my mother last night."

I remember him asking, "Is this your mom?"

When we were playing hide and seek, it fell on its own, the door was opened. And then, that night when he woke me up, "I just saw my mother's ghost,"

Another painting of a man, holding a knife, in a torn prisoner shirt. The ghost he described to me when I thought he was hallucinating.

"Had a bad dream?"

"Someone was chasing me with a knife,"

Possibly he was coloring its painting in the afternoon, sitting on the backyard porch, when the knife was going to fell on him.

"Is there another? How does it look like?"

 "Striped shirt. Black and white. Just like a prisoner. It's torn. And...a knife in his hand."

A sketch of a guy standing in water, completely soaked, water drops dripping from his hands and face. 

"What did you see?"

"Someone was drowning me in a river. You weren't there,"

The next day, he was drawing it in his sketchbook before we left for the zoo.

"I...I-I'm sorry...I...I got scared a-and,"

Later, in the kitchen, maybe he saw this ghost and got scared. So, it was this who cut his hand.

My eyes go to the man in a red beret cap, two gold coins on his eyes, one big scar on his neck. I also remember this day when he got scared looking at something when we were watching a movie. And there are hundreds of paintings just like this.

So it's true what I was thinking,

THIS BOY'S DREAMS GET REAL IF HE PAINTS THEM!

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