scarred.

{4} dream.

Hey you! Yeah you c: Thank you for reading~

Please listen to the song on the side. I think it helps set the mood for the chapter, even though the lyrics don't really relate haha c: It just sounds really nice and beautiful <3

This chapter isn't too exciting, but I promise the next one will be better o: And not to mention it'll have a certain beautiful boy in it, too. -cough- Alexander... -cough- :)

_________________________

{4}

F O U R | D R E A M

You were in my dream as I slept that night.

It’s hard to describe dreams, simply because they never really make sense. When you’re in the midst of dreaming, however, everything makes complete sense. It’s as if you see things from a different perspective, or you transport into a different realm.

Dreams are weird—that’s for sure. At least mine are.

I usually don’t remember dreams, but of course I remember the first one you appeared in.

I could see myself through the eyes of someone else, standing in that subway station where everything between you and me started. Except this time, there weren’t any other people except the two of us. There was also the train, but it didn’t dare move. A soft breeze swirled around in the subway floor, picking up small papers and dust as it moved through the air.

We stood across from each other, a good ten feet of empty space between us. Your outfit was completely different from how it was when I actually met you. There was no leather jacket on top of a white button-up shirt worn on your torso. Only a black, tattered shirt. Your hair was a tangled mess. Your eyes were moist. There were scratches across your once flawless skin. They were scars, almost like mine, except not as scary. Then there were tears. They streamed down your cheeks from the tear-ducts of your blue eyes.

You were crying.

You were falling apart.

I stood and I watched you in the dream, not moving, not doing anything except watching you cry. And that’s all the dream was—you crying silently and me watching.

I still don’t know what it meant. Maybe some dreams are just random shit your mind comes up with out of nowhere. Maybe there really aren’t any meanings and it’s just human nature to search for connections when there aren’t any.

When I woke up the following morning, everything was usual. I felt a pinch of ache in my heart realizing that I had lived when I so desperately wanted to die.

Thanks to you.

I’ll admit it now, sometimes I could daydream about you and your eyes. But there were other times when I felt anger towards you. You were the one that messed up my plan, Alexander. I didn’t consider you my savior or my hero at all.

I didn’t yawn or stretch when I got out of bed—that’s just something they show in the movies. The faded, light-cream colored wooden floors creaked as my bare feet thumped with every step I took.

Sunlight poured in from the dirty glass window in between two twin beds, falling at an angle onto Lidia’s peaceful slumbering face, puffy and oily from a good night’s rest. She was at the edge of her own metal-framed bed, arm under her head as a better pillow than the thin and worn down one we were given.

The girl in the other twin bed was curled up in a fetal position under her blanket, she had her face hidden by her hands, revealing only the back of her head and her silky black hair. Her corner of our shared room was as neat as could be—books were aligned perfectly in a small bookshelf, pens, pencils, and markers were perfectly placed in a see-through cup. There was nothing belonging to her that was out of place or dirty. She was neat. She was Janine.