Love Written By Blood // FirstKhao

Nightmares

1865

"I hereby sentence you to death," a thunderous voice echoed across the village square. The gathered crowd roared with approval. The young condemned man's heart raced, he felt dizzy, cold sweat broke out on his skin as the sentence was pronounced. He searched the crowd, trying to see a glimmer of compassion in their faces, but all he saw was hatred and disgust for him, Thanawat Rattanakitpaisan. 

  He would not live to see the next sunrise, never again feel the warmth of the biggest star in the sky on his skin, and never again feel the embrace of a loved one for the last time. He could see in his mother's face that he had long since ceased to be a son to her; petrified, without expression, she stood beside his father, not dignifying him with a glance.

In chains he was led to the construct on which a tree trunk was placed, covered in blood. Thanawat shivered inwardly, reluctant to put one more foot in front of the other. He looked at his family one last time, his little brother clinging to their mother, forced by his father to watch what was to come. Thanawat lowered his head, accepting his fate, accepting it with the last bit of dignity he had left, he could not change anything now anyway.

He knelt, and everything in him rebelled, he wanted to run, but even if the chains had not held him back, his legs would have remained rooted to the spot. He whispered a prayer to the heavens, invoking all the gods, old and new, hoping to find mercy.  His last thought was of the person he loved, who faced the same fate as him. The last thing he heard as the executioner stuck his sword against the sky was his brother's scream, so full of pain, so full of anger and hatred for his father, and a muffled cry in the crowd, a voice he knew only too well, and then everything went black.

   ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Khao snapped out of his dream, sweaty, confused, tears streaming down his face. It was one of those nights, nights when he could not sleep. A recurring nightmare, the same each time, had his mind in its clutches. It was as if he could feel the searing heat on his skin, the heavy chains around his wrists and ankles; Khao knew exactly how the wood of the guillotine structure felt under his knees, the metal on which he laid his head. He rubbed his neck as if to make sure he hadn't been scratched, that he hadn't died.  He brushed the sweaty strands of brown hair from his forehead and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand.  He wondered for the thousandth time why this dream of all things had to haunt him so often, why he deserved to go through this ordeal again and again.

He massaged his temples and sat on the edge of the bed, if he was awake he might as well get up. He stretched, grabbed his smartphone, and made his way sleepily to the bathroom. Khao had been living in a shared apartment since he decided to go to college. His roommate Mix was rarely home, preferring to spend the nights with his friend Earth, and so Khao was alone most of the time, which, to be honest, didn't bother him.

Getting dressed, having breakfast, packing his things, a normal morning in the life of a student. Sometimes Khao felt trapped in this daily routine, but he kept telling himself that after this year, his life would finally begin. He was studying history and fashion design, two things that couldn't be more different, but he liked the idea of keeping his options open.  His dream was to start a label under his name someday, but first, he needed a regular job to be financially stable.

The walk to the college was not far, just two blocks and a few meters through a beautiful park from which the gray buildings of the college could be seen. Khao enjoyed this morning walk, he loved it no matter the season, even in winter or when it was raining.

"Khao." The voice of his best friend pulled Khao out of his daydreams. "Why are you here already?" A tall man stood in front of him, a broad smile on his lips, his eyes shaped into crescents. 

"Book, I could ask you the same." Khao greeted his friend. "Are you waiting for Force again?" Book's face immediately turned red.

"Me? No, what makes you think that?" Book stammered and looked away. Khao laughed out loud and patted his buddy on the shoulder.

"You know, you could just talk to him." He grinned, knowing that Book would never dare to do that.

"Shut up." Book pouted. "But back to the topic, what are you doing here so early? Did you have another nightmare?" Concern spread over Book's face. He was the only one Khao had talked to about these dreams, the only one he trusted.

"I wish I knew where these dreams come from." Khao had sat down with Book on a bench in front of the main building of the college. "It's the same dream over and over again. I try to remember more details each time, but once I'm awake, most of the memories of the dream are a total blur." Khao sighed and leaned back on the bench. "But the feeling left by my death haunts me every day." Book looked at Khao with pity, wishing he could help his best friend.

"Have you ever searched for it on the internet? I mean have you searched for dream meanings or maybe even an incident that happened in the past that could fit your dream." Book bit into an apple and tilted his head.

"Of course, I've already done some research, but I haven't found anything - except that death by guillotine was probably pretty quick if the blade was sharp enough." Khao sighed again and ran his hand over his face. "According to dream interpretation, a death penalty dream means, and I quote, a dream in which you receive the death penalty or a death sentence means that you need to reevaluate your life and the choices you make or change your lifestyle.' But honestly, I have no idea what to think about it. I think my life is going in the right direction right now.

"Maybe the dream is telling you to drop out of college, emigrate to Hollywood, and become a designer for the stars." Laughing, Book tapped Khao lightly on the shoulder. Khao joined in the laughter and was incredibly grateful to Book for always finding the right moments to lighten the mood.

"Maybe I should," Khao shouldered his backpack. "We should go inside or we'll miss Professor Shinawatra 's incredibly exciting lecture on the history of fashion in the 1920s." Book grinned at the sarcastic tone in his friend's voice. Khao had met Book in college; they were in the same fashion design class, had started talking about it on the first day, and had been inseparable ever since. They soon found out that they shared a love for movies and literature. Book even studied fine arts, in the hope of maybe becoming an actor in the future and Khao loved to help him out, especially with learning the roles for the various commercials Book was cast for. 

   ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───