METHOD OF BEDLAM ━ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 ²

𝐢𝐯. 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 ; try eating someone else

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iv. twenty-two: ❝ try eating someone else  ❞

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: misery meat - sodikken

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Somewhere in Birmingham

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In the depths of the night, Marianna James awoke abruptly, her breaths heavy and her body covered in a cold sweat. The remnants of a haunting nightmare lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over the peace of sleep.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and the only sound was the faint whisper of the wind outside. Mar tried to shake off the remnants of the dream, but its tendrils clung to her consciousness.

In the hazy transition from the dream world to reality, a child's voice echoed in her mind—a voice with shining blue eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness. The child's words resonated with an eerie clarity, asking her a question that left a chill down her spine.

"Why won't you believe us?"

Mar's heart raced as the words lingered in the air. The child's plea reverberated through her mind, and she struggled to make sense of the dream fragments that still held her in their grip.

Tia, who had sensed Mar's distress, entered the room quietly. The concern was etched on her face as she approached the bed. With a gentle touch, she rested a hand on Mar's shoulder.

"Another one?" Tia inquired, her voice filled with a mixture of compassion and worry.

"I'm fine." Mar replied, her attempt to brush off betrayed by the tension in her voice.

"No, you aren't, love." Tia insisted, her concern deepening. She knew Mar well enough to discern when something troubled her, even if Mar tried to mask it.

Mar sighed; she couldn't shake off the feeling that this particular dream held a deeper significance. Her eyes searched Tia's face, hoping to find some clue or confirmation of what she suspected.

"Tia, there's something you're not telling me." Mar asserted, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

"Mar, not everything in a dream is a prophecy or a revelation. Sometimes, it's just our minds playing tricks on us." Tia sighed, the weight of the unspoken truth pressing down on her.

"But this felt different," Mar insisted, her brow furrowing. "And every time I bring up my child, you seem to avoid the topic. Is there something you're keeping from me?"

Tia hesitated, torn between protecting Mar and the burden of the truth she carried. The strained silence between them spoke volumes, each moment intensifying the unspoken rift that had formed.