Once Upon a Story [ HIATUS ]

Broken Dream

First of all, thank you so much for all the reads!! We've passed 200 reads and gotten 44 likes!!! So thankful for the support 🫶🏽

Welcome to another revamped contest entry (the curators gave us some really good content). I've finished The Betrothed by Kiera Cass and Daughter of Sparta by Claire Andrews. Now I'm reading Blood of Troy (ish reading) and hoping things end well for Daphne (and Apollo), but based on the third book's premise, that probably won't be the case (so far).

Prompt:
you've heard whispers of a way to stop dreaming. after too many nightmares, that's all you've desired. so you travel to Hilimi, a small town so far west from the kingdom, and you almost give up. but upon arrival, you're astounded by what you find.

Word count: 1624
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Nightfall meant curfew, and young Blake was nowhere near his house. He pulled his hood tight, jumped rooftops and snuck by chimneys and empty alleys until he dropped at the back of a shop and tiptoed inside.

"You wouldn't believe the traffic on the way here," he said, wiping his sweatless brow. "So, how are you, Susan–"

"Just get to ya room befo' I report ya," the woman scowled. Blake pursed his lips, taking on a more pitiful expression.

"Not even a goodnight?"

"The most yer gonna get fro' me is a beatin' Blake," she replied. "Up ya go."

The boy smiled and went upstairs to his current home. It was a small room, a few square meters wide, with a mattress and hard rock pillows. The walls had a few shelves with flower pots and dusty books, and the remaining space held clothes and bags of goodies.

Blake sat, eyes peering outside, and searched the sky for the moon. Not a quarter of her sparkle found his eyes. The moon cycle recently ended.

There goes my good night, he thought. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his cloak to the side. He sprawled his body across the bed and closed his eyes. The wind's whispers, creeping into his room, lulled him to sleep in seconds. What started as a blank canvas soon filled with memories: the time it all started.

He returned to his childhood, standing in the kitchen with his mother. Dressed in his Spring overalls, he ran into the small space, greeting her with a warm hug. She kissed her little ray of sunshine and gave him breakfast: pancakes with syrups and bunny apples. It was the first of many happy memories.

He smiled at each one. But it wasn't long until more pressing souvenirs crushed his joy. He held his mother's hand, walking across the marketplace, and asked when his father would return from the war. The glow in her eyes dimmed, and she gave him no answer. Her silence spoke for her: his father wouldn't return for long, if at all.