Just a dream (I can feel you staring at me)

Chapter one: Just a dream ( right?)

His tongue was sticking to his throat.

His body was sweaty, his hair messy. Same goes for his bed, it looked like Finney had fought against some beast. His blanket was nearly lying on the floor, while his pillow was lying next to his side and not under his head where it was supposed to be.

He swallowed a lump in his dry throat, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

It was a bad dream, he told himself. It couldn't have been anything else.

Robin wouldn't have let himself get caught by some fucker. Or at least, not with out killing the guy. Same, he told himself in an attempt to relax himself, could be said for Vance or Bruce. These guys were strong. He never had even met the two of them directly, but he had seen Bruce play. He was good, he wouldn’t have been killed or kidnapped. And Vance ‘pinball’ Hopper was the kid even some adults wouldn’t mess with.

Finney Blake sighed. Yeah. These three wouldn't have let themselves get kidnapped.

Billy was the paperboy, people knew him. It-it would have been dumb to kidnap someone who was known in nearly all of Denver. It’d be too much of a risk to just snatch him up while delivering papers.

But then there was Griffin.. Finney squeezed his exes shout, trying to stop the doubts growing in his stomach.
He knew, Griffin was some kid younger than him, someone who wasn’t really seen. But why the hell would someone kidnap a kid like Griffin?

In hindsight, trying to convince himself, that it was all a bad dream was stupid. Of course it was. The police would have found out, as soon as they’d see the black balloons. It was his stupid brain that pieced together tat dream. Maybe he had heard too much news, with all the fucking serial killers that were on the loose. Yeah. He just had made up a fucking nightmare with all the murderers.

Denver was a small town. It would make people go crazy if so many boys had really vent missing. He wouldn’t have had let Robin walk alone. It was just a nightmare.

Slowly, Finney clammed down. The Adrenalin in his veins stopped, his breathing got easier. His heart didn’t pound so fast anymore.
The only thing that still said ‘somethings is wrong’ were his tears. He hadn’t noticed, that he was crying. But well, after a nightmare, were your best friend was murdered by some guy who also had murdered others, after dreaming you were forced in a basement with nothing but a black phone and an old mattress, after being forced to kill a guy, it was normal to cry. Even for boys, right?

Finney ran his fingers through his hair and took deep breaths in and out.
That part of the dream. He almost had forgotten about it.
How could Finney have killed a guy, that Robin couldn't? So of course it was a fucking dream.

With a sigh, the boy collapsed back into his bed, his blanket and pillow still in the wrong places.
He wanted to sleep and couldn't at the same time.

What if he fell into that dream again? Back in that basement, back in that situation with those ghosts
He closed his eyes.

No.

It was just a dream.

But why was he feeling as if he was being watched?

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“Finney! Come on.” Gwen was already nearly ready to leave, while Finney on the other hand was still stuffing papers and other stuff into his bag.

He had overslept, or rather wasn’t able to get up. Something felt off, like a déjà vu. Like he already knew what was going to happen.
Maybe because of that stupid fucking dream.