Stockholm Syndrome || Book Two || DISCONTINUED

|| You Can Be Scared Of Somone And Still Love Them... ||

8:27 am

I sit slouched in my seat, slowly zoning the professor out as my mind was still hazy from the nightmare I had had only hours before. My thoughts still lurking in the back of my mind. I started to grow paranoid, continuing to think about everything Dave had sad, or what he had said in my dream, that is. I knew it wasn't actually real, but it felt real. It felt oh, so real. Everything down from Dave's threats, to Richie stabbing me. I think my emotions were the only real thing in that nightmare.
Dave's words that were on repeat in the back of  my head, were now seeping over to the front, overwhelming me with each word.

"He's gonna end up in jail anyways..."

"Let's not forget poor, helpless Alex..."

"Once a killer, always a killer..." with that one, it wasn't just Dave's voice I pictured saying that, I also pictured Richie as well. No, I didn't tell Richie about my nightmare, only because I didn't want him to worry and I also didn't want him to think I was afraid of him. Not that I am or anything...

Okay, maybe I am a little skittish around him now but that doesn't mean don't I love him anymore. You can be scared of someone and still love them. Can't you?

I was so zoned out at this point that I almost didn't hear Stacy's whispers to try and get my attention. She always sat next to me in this class. This is the class where we met, after all.

"Eddie, you okay?" She whispered, to which I turned to face her. I nodded, faking a smile. "Mhmm," I hummed, trying to make it look like I was paying attention the entire time, but Stacy is like a mom. She knows exactly when I'm lying and when I'm not and I think she could tell something was bothering me. "Eddie," she began, "you know that you can talk to me if something's bothering you." I sighed. I didn't want to tell Stacy before I told my own boyfriend, but I figured one, I needed to get this off of my chest and two, I can just tell her the half truth...

"Ye-Yeah, well...it-it's just, I had this dream, well it was more like a nightmare, really." I started off. She nodded. "A-And I just can't stop thinking about it and-"

"And now it's like all you can think about?"  She finished my sentence. I nodded. She's knows me really well, I thought. "Well, what was it about?" She asked. "I-If you don't mind me asking."

Damn. I can't tell her that. No matter how much I want to, I just can't tell her what's going on with me.

"I-I'll tell you later." I said, trying to avoid talking about it. "Wow. Is it that bad?" She asked, to which I didn't say anything back. I only turned to face the front once again.

* * *

After my class was over, I still had some time before I was suppose to be at work, so I took that time to grab a hot chocolate with Stacy at a local Tim Horton's. We sat by a window, admiring the dreary weather outside.

"Hm, I never noticed to gloomy New York was until now." She chuckled at this, as did I. "Yeah, really. I never expected it to be this rainy." I added. Stacy takes a sip of her hot chocolate, immediately setting it down after. "Hey, so, can you tell me about your dream now?" She asked. I must've given her a nervous look because she immediately smiled, "Eddie, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I-I just want to know why you're so shaken up over it." She assures. "But, if it makes you uncomfortable to talk about it, then I don't want you to tell me." She says, to which I nod. "It's not that I don't want to tell you..." I say, "I-It's just...I-I don't know if you'll understand why I had it to begin with."

Why did I say that? I asked myself as her once cheery face began to turn into a more confused and nervous expression, "What's that suppose to mean?" She asked calmly. "I...I-" I began to stammer, "Eddie-"

"Look, I-Basically, to keep a long story short, I was stabbed and the person who stabbed me was Richie and I don't know how to go about the nightmare because I don't even know why I had it to begin with, I mean Richie and I have never had any problem before so, why am I all of the sudden having dreams about him hurting me?" It all just came out to be honest and technically I did tell her the half truth. I just twisted the truth and turned it into something where I thought she wouldn't ask too many questions, that's all.

She nodded. "Oh, I see." She says, "So, now you're concerned that your dreams means something more deep than it actually does?" I nodded. She chuckled, "Oh, Eddie, It probably doesn't mean anything. Maybe, it was just one of those pointless nightmares? I have those all of the time, in fact, once, when I was ten, I kept having these dreams about the same clown." She began, "A-And he wore this baggy costume, he had this semi-bright red hair and he wore makeup, you know, standard clown shit, right? But, every night he would somehow appear in every dream I had and it got to the point where I didn't even wanna go to sleep anymore-"

"Stacy." I had to say her name to snap her back into reality. I do this all of the time with her. She'll ramble on and on about anything and everything.

"Right, right, but my point is that you can't let some pointless dream get the better of you. Don't overthink it." She says. I nodded. I wish she was right. I wish what I had told her was the whole truth, nothing but the truth. But it wasn't. It wasn't some pointless dream. I only had it because It actually means something. It actually relates back to my life. Dave will go through with his threats. He will make Richie and I's life a living hell and Richie is still a fucking killer, whether I like or not, that's the truth.

"And plus, this is the first time you've ever had that dream, right?" I nodded, "Yeah, so you'll most likely never have that dream again." She assures. I take a sip of my drink and chuckle, "Yeah, probably." I agree.