I Hope You Never Sleep Again | DRAKE | (tmf/the music freaks)

Comfort is the only lullaby I can fall asleep to (it sounds off-key without you)

Tears streamed down its face. Tears streamed down uncontrollably. Seeing his sullen brown eyes and untamed magenta hair, the bags under his eyes, his tear stained cheeks, would never surmount to watching him fall apart. Watching why. It wasn't sure how to feel, knowing his actions. It, strangely, hoped someone would both hold him accountable and guide him to the irradiant light.

"You are his reflection. You have seen his sorrow. Now, you have even lived through it. You understand who is wrong, but you are not him, and these memories are not yours. Nonetheless, you are interconnected. He urged you on. Reach out to him and bring him here. He is the one I have come for."

The reflection nodded. It appreciated the insight. It gained a knowledge something vain as a reflection hardly has. It knew it could not alter how Drew perceived himself, yet it would still try its best to reflect the truth from then on. However much such a naive entity could.

"boy of ill red, who is plagued by sin and sacrilege, awaken from your slumber. te cogitationis id vocatio."

"Farewell, reflection."

and although it was merely a voice, it sounded like it was smiling.

It was not a friendly one.

——

Drew's slumber was peaceful. He was undisturbed by the voices he had awoken, unbeknownst to the chaos he created.

The fire in his heart was so far but a kindling flame, dancing passionately; daring to challenge the burning sun.
Like a fool, the small flame bared its wrath.

It was truly foolish.

When he awoke, it was to a dimming winter sky. He yawned, stretching his limbs.

He was fucking exhausted.

Which was funny seeing as he was sleeping for the majority of the day.

The nurse hadn't woken him up. That meant his parents didn't arrive. He expected it to be honest, and he accepted that fact that no one ever came when he was hurting. It was always that way. They never picked up.
They could.
They definitely could.
They were just selfish assholes. Selfish assholes who were better of dead.

He hated them. A lot.
Why did his dad have a kid if he was gonna neglect him? That's not fair. That's not fucking fair. And as the icing on the cake he re-married his dead wife's sister.
What sadistic shithead does that? I mean- What went through his head? He didn't just 'fall in love'. So why? How could he even do it? Knowing Clematis was watching from-

He's so disgusting. And Drew has his filth in his blood.

And why would his step mother even accept the proposal? When he said, "Dicentra, will you marry me?" How could she say yes knowing this man had said those same words to another woman who just happened to be her sister? How dare she? If she knew she was spiralling, why, how, could she say yes? How could she willing wed him knowing in her state she'd end up fucking up another child? Her sister's child, for that matter.

They're both so utterly revolting, yet Drew wished at least one was here. It sucked—wanting people like that around him. Every time his dad was there he felt this intense.. disgust towards himself. That he'd one day carry on this man's legacy. Here this old man was, standing all prideful, while the woman he swore to first was six foot under. How could he? When he saw his step-mother? Well, he felt..hatred. A hatred and this twisting sorrow and anger.
The feeling he got when he looked at liars.

He hated liars.

If either of them came, he wasn't sure what he would say to them—didn't know what they'd do. If it was his mother, she might cry. Then lecture him with some 'inspirational shit' that means absolutely nothing, just her rubbing being a druggie into his face like it was something he wanted to hear.
But he didn't care. He didn't wanna know and he never did.