I was on a confirmation trip this week (part of the reason I didn't post, sorry) and all the forced socializing and sozial games really didn't help my mental health. I thought I was getting 'better' but that's clearly not the case anymore.
I don't think my eating habits have gotten better either...
And now the only thing I want to do is lie in bed and sleep all day, but I need to go to school, and that's just so exhausting... I don't think I have the energy to do this 'living' thing much longer.
Enjoy
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Dream pov:
How long has it been?
An hour
A day
Maybe a week
I don't know anymore
But I know I'm not dead
And I know I talked to Techno after I woke up
How long has it been since?
I don't know that either
Is George okay?
Did he move on?
Techno said he didn't
Techno said he broke down
Techno said he may be dead
I killed George
I killed my best friend
I killed him.
"-am..."
"-eam..."
"Dream..."
"DREAM"
I was shaken awake by two gentle hands, dragging me out of the endless void. A small part of me wished he hadn't dragged me out, not yet. But the rational part was glad he did.
I slowly opened my eyes for the second time. third time? I don't know. I opened my eyes and stared up at Techno — I think it was Techno. My mind is still fuzzy after dying. It is probably common — if you can say something is common in my situation.
"You died again" I wasn't ready to hear that. What did I do wrong this time? Did I try another time? Is this the second time he revived me? Uh, I don't know
Wow, I think that a lot. There are so many things I don't know anymore.
I looked up at him with a scared gaze.
"You're safe now. Everything will be okay." At one point, I must have closed my eyes again. How long had he been here for? an hour or just a minute?
I think a small 'okay' or 'thanks' left my mouth. I don't really know which one it was; both seemed like okay options.
But what is this feeling? It's like I'm not a part of my body, but not like I'm seeing it in third person. It's just weird, like I'm in the brain of another person without knowing anything about them other than their names.
I felt a hand stroking my cheek, a tumb tracing the side line of my face before stopping at my lips. It felt warm. Safe.
Then a hand was dragged through my hair, and the last one had its tumb on my palm, stroking back and forth.
God, this feeling was comfortable, safe, if I may say.
"Hey, Dream. Do you hear me?"
The tumb had stopped stroking and the voice was filled with concern. I didn't like it. It was much better when it was comforting and soft. Even silence was better than being concerned.
YOU ARE READING
The New Start
FanfictionOn hiatus until I'm finished with exams and all that stuff (June/July) Dream has been in the prison for a long time; it's been over half a year since he was locked in and no one has visited him for months. Not even Quackity has visited in weeks. Th...