Dnf fluffshots

Hallucination

'' are Clay's thoughts

The world fades to black as Clay lays down on the concrete. A bright light shimmers in the distance. As he stand to his full height the light seems to come closer. His mind tells him to touch it. Over and over. Touch it. Touch the light. Giving in, he reaches out his hand and—

Clay jolts from his bed, drenched in sweat. What kind of dream was that? "Clay? Are you ok?" George spoke is groggily voice. " Yes, I'm fine baby. I'm sorry for waking you." Clay answered trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. "Alright, if you say so." George turns around while still under the covers. He exhales and immediately falls back asleep. The same cannot be said about Clay. He sits up and leans against the headboard. He picks up a book from the bedside table. 'Well, I'm definitely not going back to sleep so I might as well read.' He thinks as he opens to his bookmark.

Touch it. Touch the light. 'Oh no. Not again.' Touch it. 'No. I'm not listening to you. Last time was one too many.' You must face it. 'Face what? This stupid dream?' Denial is not a beautiful mask but instead a scornful cover from burden. 'What the hell does that mean?'

The light engulfs Clay and he rises from his bed. Far more peacefully this time. He is alone in the bed and he can smell breakfast wafting in the air. His book lays open on his lap with the bookmark placed on the bed side table. 'George must be downstairs. Clay thought as he stands up. Just then he sees a bright flash, but it doesn't come from anything in the room. It was almost as if the flash was internal. He stumbles back and holds his head. Clay blinks and tries to walk out of the room, though with difficulty seeing as he has been temporarily blinded. "Clay dear, you're up! Oh that is wonderful." "Mom, what are you doing here? Where's George?" Clay says looking around. He now realizes he is in his childhood home. His mother is standing front of him with a remorseful look on her face. "Mom? Hello? Where George? I have something to talk to him about." Clay says as he walks past her. He enters an open room full of his family. Some are sitting at the table; others in the kitchen making breakfast. Everyone stops when he enters the room. "Clay honey, can you sit down for a minute?" His mom asks as his sister pulls up a chair. "Um, sure. What for?" He questions as he takes a seat while looking between his family members. "The doctor said that you might try to forget what happened, but I didn't think it would be so total. Tell me, when did you last see George?" He mother said her forehead creasing with the last question. "Last night. I accidentally woke him up with a nightmare." Clay answer with an awkward chuckle. 'What is going on here?' He thought. "Oh honey, there is no easy way to say this. Um—" his mother starts to tear up. " Honey, George has been dead for two days." Glass shatters. The ground shakes.
'...What?' Clay thought as panic starts to unfold in his mind. "But I just saw him! In my room! He's not— he can't be—." Dream cuts himself off. "Clay, don't you remember the accident? You sat in the hospital beside him for days. I had to drag you out to shower." His mother says as she walks over to hug him. He hums in reply. He can't find the voice to form words. "The doctor said you would most likely be in some sort of denial but this is concerning. You said you saw him last night?" She asks as she releases the hug . Clay nods with his head dropping afterwards. "We might have to talk to Dr. Harland alter then." His mother says to the general crowd of his family as the draw in closer to hug Clay. Sniffling can be heard in the middle of the big hug. "Clay, we will always be here for you. George was an amazing person and we will honor him with giving you a great life. Please don't blame yourself." His mother last few words "blame yourself" open a flood gate of memories. They rush in like the tide of a tsunami. That night. The ice. The car. The crash. It was his fault. All of it. It was his idea to go out. It was his idea to take George. He should've died. Not George. Never George. Clay hurls over as his tears start to fall in greater quantity. "I'm going back to my room." He states as he stands and walks toward is childhood room. "I just want to be alone for right now if you can respect that, thanks." His mother gives him a small, sad smile and nods. He walks into his room. 'I shouldn't be here. I should be dead. I can't be alive. I need to see George. I'm sorry mom. I can't do this without George.'

852 words

Sorry about the sadness :( but I felt like if today I'm also sorry about not updating I think everything I wrote is cringy but you can have this one. Hope you enjoyed!