The Boy Through The Window| Dreambur

Chapter 1

TW: Physical and Verbal Abuse, Homophobia. I think almost every chapter will have abuse, so if you are sensitive, maybe this isn't for you.
Dream POV

I grunted as I carried a large box to the van. "Dream! Go help your sister!" My mother shouted. I groaned, and just when I thought I was done. Annoyed, I walked to my sister's room.

"Dream! Great, could you bring that box? Too heavy for me." I sighed, "Sure." I grabbed the box. Surprised by its weight, I almost fell over. "Jesus christ! What's in this thing?" My sister rolled her eyes, "A dead body, duh."

I stopped and turned around, "What?!" She snorted, "I'm obviously joking! It's just a bunch of my clothes." I sighed in relief and continued to walk to the van. As I walked away I heard her mutter, "Fucking dumbass. 

"$2 IN THE SWEAR JAR!" I shouted. 

"FUCK YOU!" 

"$3 NOW!" I laughed, Drista always knows how to crack me up, intentionally or not. 

I gave the box to one of the workers and they put it in the van. My dad came out, carrying another box from Drista's room. Soon, we were finished. The workers drove the van to the new house that we were going to move into. 

"Hop into the car kids!" My dad exclaimed. Drista and I got into the back seats and my parents got into the front seats. 

"When we get there, I call the biggest room!" Drista exclaims. I scowled, "No, I'm getting the biggest room." Drista shook her head, "I called it first." 

"Doesn't matter. I'm getting it."

"No me."

"No me."

Drista glared at me and brought out a fork from her pocket. "WHAT THE FUCK! GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed. "$1 in the swear jar!" Drista exclaimed giddily.

"Kids, no more fighting. Just give your sister the room, she did call it first." I scowled, glaring at my mother but said nothing more of the matter. Drista sat there with a smug look on her face.

~~~

"Dream, please take this box to the kitchen." My mother said, giving me a light box. I nodded and quickly walked in. While moving the boxes, I looked around the house. The walls were a lovely light green color and the ceiling was smooth and white.

Once we had gotten most of the boxes in, my mother let my sister and I relax. "You guys have done enough. Your father and I will take care of the rest. Go and say hello to the neighbours or something." 

Aw hell nah. My social anxiety says nope. Drista grabbed my arm. "C'mon! Let's go and check out our bedrooms." I rolled my eyes and followed her up the stairs. 

"This one is the biggest! Therefore, it's my room." I looked into the room. It was large. It had beige walls and a huge window, looking out into the neighbourhood. "Are you gonna repaint the walls?" I asked. 

"Duh, beige doesn't suit my carpet. I think lavender would do, you?" I shrugged, "I'm not good at this stuff. I'm just going to make my room green."

She rolled her eyes, "Anyways. Get out of my room! Make sure to knock every time you want to come in." She pushed me out and slammed the door in my face. Teenagers scare the living shit out of me. I walked into the other bedroom. It wasn't small, but it wasn't big. Honestly, I actually liked it. It was nice and cozy looking, I could already picture where my bookshelves would go. There was a nice window that looked at our neighbour's house. 

I sighed and collapsed on the floor. The next few days were going to be long and hard, but also extremely exciting. I wonder how the new school will go. It can't go too bad... right? 

~~~

Wilbur POV

"I-I'm sorry. I won't leave my books on the table again." I stammered, tears already pouring down my face. My 'father' raised his hand to slap me again. I squeezed my eyes shut as the blow landed across my face. A familiar painful sting brought me back to reality.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE DIRTY THIS HOUSE AGAIN, UNDERSTOOD?" He grabbed me and shook me violently, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND BOY? ANSWER ME!" I nodded, "Y-Yes sir." 

He let go of me and I gasped for air. Stop crying, he's going to yell at you, stop crying. Just like I thought, he slapped me again, "STOP CRYING! DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO CRY?" I shook my head and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. It worked and my sobs slowly receded. 

He walked back into his room, slamming the door shut. I was left there, shuddering as silent sobs coursed through me. Stop crying you fucking loser. This happens every day, just get used to it. But I couldn't. Every day, I hope that my father will love me again, and treat me like his son, and every day my heart gets shattered. 

I closed my eyes and try to think happy thoughts, like that time I tried ice cream for the first time. Or that time my mother and I baked a cake for my birthday. Right. My mother. I laughed bitterly, times change, don't they. If only she was still alive. If she was still alive, I would probably be outside, making friends, or taking a walk. 

No, now I'm stuck in this place I'm supposed to call home. I need permission for anything. And I'm too scared to even ask to go outside. One wrong word, one wrong move and I'm on the floor, battered and bruised. Both mentally and physically. I sighed. I quietly tiptoed to my room, trying not to disturb the man I live with. I washed my face and gingerly tended to the wounds. I bandaged a cut on my face and collapsed on the bed. I looked out the window. I could see a moving van in front of my neighbour. Huh, new neighbours? Oh well, not like I'm allowed to talk to them anyways.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to rest for a bit. 

~~~

Ding! I jolted awake. Fuck, if he caught me sleeping, I would be dead. I heard him walk downstairs. I didn't move, too scared to make a noise. "Come down!" I heard him shout. I smoothed my clothes and my hair before walking downstairs. In the doorway, a family was standing. "This is Wilbur. Wilbur, these are the new neighbours." There was a teenage girl who gave me a curious look. My eyes weren't on her though. They were on the really good-looking guy standing beside her.

He had blonde hair and bright green eyes that I would die for. His skin was slightly tanned, but it complemented his features perfectly. The freckles that were littered across his skin were just a cherry on top. He gave me a smile and waved. I waved back, my cheeks already flushing. 

"Hi! My son is Dream and my daughter is Drista. We've just moved in, but because you're our new neighbours, we brought you guys some muffins! Drista baked them herself." My dad took the tray from her, "Thank you, I'm sure we'll enjoy them." 

The mother smiled brightly, "Well, we have a lot of packing to do, but we'll see you around!" Yeah right. I'll probably never see your hot son again.

My father closed the door and immediately I knew my moment of peace and happiness was over. He turned around, "Take this to the fridge. Don't you dare try and take one without my permission." I nodded and quickly took it to the fridge. 

I walked back and headed for the stairs. "Where do you think you're going, boy?" I gulped, "To my room sir." I turned around to face him, knowing I would be slapped if I didn't. 

"You can go to your room after I'm done with you." My eyes widened. What? But he just beat me up! He never does one right after the other. "I saw the way you looked at the boy. You're filthy, you know that? I don't want you speaking to that boy ever again. You hear me?" I nodded. He grabbed me, "Words." 

"Y-Yes sir." Instead of letting me go like a normal person, he pushed me into the wall, making my arm bang against a table. I bit back a yell of pain. "I will not have my son be one of those filthy people, got it?" I nodded again and then remembered what he said, "Y-Yes." For the second time today, he went back up into his room. This... is going to be interesting.

___

1442 words! This is my first chapter and I think I have a general storyline planned out now. I'm going to be switching back and forth between the two books I'm working on right now, so updates will start to slow down.