for you, the world

[1] (2004)

"George!" His mother called out, he spun on his heel raising a brow as he tugged his bag over his shoulder. "Yessss, Mum?" He dragged out, eager to go out and see his best friend. "Theres four dollars on the side, get food while your out, Mikes over tonight so be back late" She yelled, George looked to his left seeing the four dollars she'd mentioned in painfully loose change. "Okay, bye mum" She didn't reply, he shrugged it off shoving the change into his pocket and darting out of the back door. His mum wasn't the best, she wasn't the type to make him nice warm home cooked meals or would hold him when he was scared in the night. Instead, she'd have a different man over each night, which wasn't great. Sometimes they were mean to George, pushing and shoving him around, he didn't like the men his mum brought home, they were scary. There was once a nice man, his name was Dan, but George's mum was mean to him and he left. Whenever his mum had a new man over, she'd send him out with less than five dollars and he wouldn't be allowed home until after nine PM, which for an eight year old living in an entirely different country to the one he was born in, it was terrifying.

George was excited to see Dream, his mother hated him which made George love his presence even more. Dream was great, he was the funniest kid George knew. Dream didn't go to George's school, his school friends hated how much he spoke about the latter- which to be honest, was painfully often. Dream was tall for a child their age, a mess of blonde hair that was almost never tame, sometimes George wondered if Dream even knew what a hair=comb was (clearly, he didn't) Besides it all, Dream was George's best friend, he made the days easier and always gave George something to look forward to- even on the days George was being moody with the world, it was guaranteed that Dream would always get a laugh out of him.

"George!" George almost jumped out of his skin, yet smiled upon turning and seeing a mess of floppy blonde hair above green eyes. "Dream!" He giggled, Dream returned the smile standing up from where he was sat and dusting off his knees from the mess of mud and grass stains they'd become from god knows how long of messing around in the dirt. "George, you wanna have some fun?" Dream smirked, his hands hidden behind his back. "What're you hiding?" George asked, stepping forward and onto his tippy toes to try and get a glimpse of what Dream was hiding, yet Dream only shifted more so it was more out of his sight. "Dreaaaammmm" He whined trying to reach out, Dream only stepped back more almost causing George to stumble over. "Tell meeeeee" He stopped, crossing his arms and pouting. "Fine, fine" Dream chuckled in defeat, holding his hands out, in one hand a lighter and the other a firework. "Dream!" george yelled, scrunching his face up, "Put that away! That's dangerous." George waved his hands dismissively, shocked at what his friend had just showed him, "How'd you even get that-" george muttered shaking his head as Dream laughed. Dream shrugged, "Dad's new years stash in the garage." The american giggled, "Come on, dont be such a sourpuss, it'll be fun." George glanced between the firework and his friends pleading expression, "What if we get into trouble" He bit on his lower lip, his hands idly fiddling with each=other in a nervous manner. "Pfffft, trouble? Hardly know her, come on George it'll be fun!"

"trouble? YOU always get ME into trouble Dream, whenever an adult comes to shout at us you run off like a little baby" George smirked mimicking a baby crying.

"Do not!" Dream retaliated, crossing his arms and narrowing his brows.

"Sure you don't, Dreamie."

"Don't call me that, that's... gay"

"Whatever." George shook his head, "Are we lighting this or what?"

"Glad you changed your mind." Dream shot a smile before running off, "Dream! Slow down." George called out, yet to no avail. By the time he'd reached dream, Dream had the lighter lit and he was crouching by the firework. "Ready to see the coolest thing, like- in the existence of cool things?" Dream gave a side smile bringing the flame to the bottom of the firework, it lit and instantly shot off, sparks hitting against Dreams skin, he cried out in pain falling back. "Dream!" George rushed to him, tackling him and covering his friend as the firework shot along the grass, it had gone diagonal instead of up, now leaving a trail of sparks as it raced through the green strands, an ear breaking screech coming from it. Georges heart raced as he held Dream from on-top of him, George had never been the 'brave' friend, usually Dream was the cocky, confident one but upon seeing his friend hurt, adrenaline got the better of him. Finally, a loud bang sounded, Dream and George let out a short yell at the sudden sound. George rolled off of him, sitting up quickly and turning to his friend.
"Dream? Are you okay?" Urgently he tapped his friend, Dream nodded clutching at his hand. "I've burnt my hand, it really hurts." He winced, holding it tight against his chest.

"Go home, tell your mu, i'll-" George stopped, looking up at the small fire that had trailed along the grass, he gulped, "I'll take the blame."

"George, this is bad and it was my fault- are you sure?"

George nodded, "now hurry up and get home stupid"

Dream quickly stood, still holding his hand and mumbling a thank you before darting off in the direction of what George assumed was his home, George glanced over to the destruction they'd caused, smoke rising from the grass. His front door burst open, his mother storming out followed by a man he didn't recognise, rage filling her eyes. "George Henry Davidson, what on EARTH do you think you're doing?" She screamed, finally reaching him.

"i-i, i_ Mum i-" He stuttered upon seeing the pure anger across her face, hands trembling.

"Let me guess, Dream did it?" She yelled once more, shoving his shoulder, he held it as it began to ache.

"No- i mean- yeah-maybe-"

"and where would 'Dream' be now then? Convenient he isn't here, isn't it." She tutted, looking around, George swallowed harshly. His throat beginning to feel painfully dry and his hands awfully clammy due to the stress of the situation.

"He got burnt, he had to go home-" his mother cut him off, "Excuses George, its always excuses with you, just admit to what you did you vile little brat."

"You better listen to your mom kid, you wouldn't want me to hurt you." The strange man spoke, standing by his mother and wrapping a hand around her waist, the smell of cheap whisky becoming more prominent.

"He isn't real George, you're way too old to be having imaginary friends, it's about time you grew up, you're going back to London."

"We don't have any family in London anymore-" George tried to speak, his voice sounding small, he felt a slap against his cheek, tears filling his eyes. "Don't talk back to your mother brat." The man spat at him, George clutched his cheek with trembling fingers.

"Who said anything about family, you're going into care, i can't stand the sight of you, you little troublemaking bastard." his mum shook her head, "Now clean up your fucking mess and then get back in that house and pack your bags, first flight tomorrow" She screamed once more before shoving him and walking off, leaving the young boy on the floor, crying to himself.

What was he going to do?