Sacrifice - dreamnotfound

01 - Agonizing Nightmares

"George THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND, GEORGE. LET ME SEE HIM" Dream begged, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Sir, please calm down." The officer responded, emotionless.
"Can you fuck off? THAT'S MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND, AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?" Sobbing, his sobs, that's all that was heard along with the overly excruciating noise of the sirens. They were incredibly loud, the irritable noise they made factoring in how bright and overwhelming they could be.

Glass shards scattered the floor, some stained with blood, though most of the blood was on the dull, concrete road staining it darker than it's actual colour.
"GEORGE, IS HE ALRIGHT? Please, please officer, let me see him, it's our last wish." More sobbing. Dream was on his knees at this point, he couldn't bare the thought of not only never seeing George again, but being forever alone, without him.

A ringtone entered the atmosphere, ruining it. Soon, vibrations continued on for a good 5 minutes before awakening him.

"Oh god, not again, the same stupid fucking dream" he said, sweating profusely from the heat and wiping the tears that had formed in his eyes with his damp t-shirt.
Finally he answered his phone after the 8th ring.
"Yes, what is it?" Dream grumbled, his voice thick and croaky after just being awoken from his repeating nightmare.
"Let's go out man, I miss you. We miss you. We've all suffered, and it been months since you've gone out let alone with me"
"Im gonna politely decline. It's not something easy to get over, nothing you would get" he said to his friend on the other line; implying the loss they both shared.
"But the thing is I do get it. He was my best friend."
"And he was my boyfriend." The expression of pain, the feeling of everyone's inability to understand him.
"Here you are pretending like everything is okay while FYI it clearly isn't. Nothing will ever compare to the way I felt around him, which I will never get again so kindly stop fucking calling me and piss off." The phone call abruptly ended after that, he didn't feel like talking let alone even waking up. No matter how painful the reoccurring nightmare he was facing, and loathed such a horrible memory, actually being able to see him - George - was enough to put up with it everyday.

Dream was agitated, and he didn't need neither wanted help in grieving or moving on. Out of anger, he threw his phone against the wall, shattering the phone screen but not enough to make it completely useless. Immediately regretting his choice, feeding into impulsive actions. How much worse could it really get than that?

Dream you're such a fucking idiot, that's your phone. Guilt started to intrude into his mind, no matter how shitty he was doing, he should be glad that there is one person who still cares. He gradually sunk into his bed like a marshmallow, wallowing in sadness. For hours he laid there staring at the ceiling unable to do anything. He was at an all time low. His room not only looked but smelt horrible, he even smelt bad himself. After pushing dates on when he should shower eventually not doing anything all together. His shirt was stained with god knows what and his room, don't even get me started on his room. Plates were stacked up, items, books, and clothes covered the floor. He was practically hanging on a thread, a dirty one. In reality, he really was, the amount of times he tried to kill himself were insane, he hated his life. Of course right before actually attempting his mind wandered off, to one thing and one thing only. George. He felt like he had no purpose, he was numb, no feeling at all but despair. He was stuck. Stuck in a continuous nightmare, the day he lost George. This was his life a continuous cycle of hell which he created himself.

"George" He weeped, not being able to touch his face, make him laugh and hide away. "anything I would do to just see you, make everything right. To see the way I made you feel, your face, your touch, you hair, the way you smell. God I would even kill myself just to see and hear you for a split second" He let out a depressed laugh at his own words, how pathetic had he become. It felt like the air was suffocating at him. "God George, only if our roles were reversed and I was dead. Would you still sacrifice yourself for me? Who am I kidding, your life is way more important than mine. Any time, any day, anywhere would I die, become the sacrifice. That's just how much I love for you. Or loved you."

Later, he became unconscious from the lack of food and drink, dehydration. Again directing him to his agonizing nightmare, the continuous loop of losing his significant other. The memory he put up with seeing but loathed.