Sweet Disposition // Dream X Georgenotfound

One

TW://  Slight mentions of death and blood
~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.

George woke up in a panic. Large beads of sweat pooled beneath his shirt, his chest was heavy and each breath he took weighted him down like concrete.

It was just a dream. He repeated the phrase to himself over and over until he regained his grasp to reality. His grasp on the damp blanket softened.

It was only a dream.

It wasn't just any dream, it was the dream. The one he had been having almost every night for weeks. Flashing lights, cold and dark, asphalt pooling with thick red blood.

George wiped the sweat from his forehead and laid back down.

He tried to close his eyes, to forget about it, but the ever so slight trembling of his body kept him awake. He groaned, fixing his eyes on the familiar ceiling, a part of him waiting for it give him answers, to tell him why he couldn't rest without being transported into some twisted hell.

After countless sleepless nights, George had thought there may have been a few explanations to his relentlessness Dream.

1) The move. George had recently moved from his quaint English hometown to the blistering heat of Florida. Orlando to be exact. He had been planning the move for years, he had his mind set from a young age on moving to America, to a state that's always warm, with countless beaches, something so far away and new to him while still being somewhat similar to what he had always known. George thought Orlando was as good a place as any, plus it was close Universal Studios, a place he had visited as a child and completely adored. He saves his money for years, found the perfect apartment, and exactly one month prior made the move.

It was a stressful move. He felt like he had shipped hundreds of boxes filled with his belongings across the sea which was more time consuming than he had originally thought. His family didn't want him to leave either, it made him feel guilty, taking himself away from all his loved ones, but it wasn't like they would never see him again, so he made the move regardless.

He hoped that it was the stress that was getting to him, and that in due time, when he settled in more, his dreams would become lighter.

2)His apartment was haunted. He felt crazy for even thinking it, he had never been one to believe in the supernatural. However, in his desperate sleep deprived state on those nights, it somehow seemed logical. He wondered if ghosts could wriggle their way into his mind and terrorize his dreams.

3)He simply was just going crazy.

—

Tossing and turning his way into to dusk, George could feel the weight of his eyes pulling on his face. They wanted to close, they wanted to sleep, but he wouldn't let them. He wouldn't allow himself to experience that nightmare twice in one day. He decided to pull out his phone, and search the internet for any sort of clues as to what his mind was trying to tell him. He opened Google began typing in the most prominent images of his dream.

What does death in a dream mean?

He clicked on the first link, skipping past the information on what it would mean if he himself had passed away in his dream. It was never him who died, it was always a man. The same man. He was tall, much taller than George, and every time he looked up to the man, all he could see was a blurred face beneath a mop of blonde hair.

He skimmed the page for a while, the only remotely interesting thing he came across were a few simple words that read,

Death in a dream may symbolize the end of something and the beginning of something new

He forcefully exhaled through his nose in a small laugh. Feeling a sense of relief from the statement. Maybe his dream did have something to do with his move, the end of his old life in England and the start of his new one in America.

He closed the tab and worded the next imagine into the search bar.

What does a faceless person in a dream mean?

Again, he scrolled quickly through, finding only one thing that stood out him,

The identity of the faceless person may became known to you.

George thought that was strange. How would he know if he met the faceless man if he didn't know what he looked like.

Suddenly a loud knock sounded from his front door. Startled, George sat up in a hurry and climbed out of bed. He made his way through the hall and then to the front door, the pounding of his heart pulsed loudly in his ears as he wondered who could be knocking on his door so early in the morning.

Upon reaching the front door, George closed one eye and brought his face closer to the door, looking through the small peep hole. On the other side stood an unfamiliar man.