THE DREAM CATCHER

36.

I'm taking no time. I'm taking no time before breaking out running. I'm taking no time practically flying down the stairs. I'm taking no time, not bothering when Niccòlo shouts at me and desperately tries to stop me. I'm not turning around. I'm not even stumbling through the darkness before I storm out of the building. I'm not turning around running through the street. I'm not breathing when I pass the dead body. My heart is not beating when I approach the boy glued to the wall by panic and shock. I look at the ground. A man's dead, cold corpse is drowning in a puddle of red liquid that stings my nostrils, his grey eyes wide opened, the side of his skull shattered. And I'm almost feeling a flash of remorse when I look at him. Almost. With my body shaking I turn to face an even more shaking boy in front of me. My gaze travels to the plastic bag he holds in his tiny hands. I don't even control my limbs when I wrench it out of his grip, toss it on the ground and smash it with my foot. I twist it and pierce it to the surface so much I feel my sole catching flames. As soon as I'm certain there's nothing left from the death delivering drug I look into the boy's tearing eyes.
,,Don't you ever touch it again." I say, my voice so harsh, so full of poison and threat I'm surprised myself. ,,I'll be watching you." I add more calmly.
The boy shakes his head in agreement, such a stunned, terrified grimace it makes my heart break.
,,Go." I say gently, tilting my head to the side informing him to get the hell out of here. He doesn't bother to hesitate, in a blink of an eye he's gone, stumbling over jagged pavement onto his block.

I'm trembling, my heart pounding like crazy. I kneel down and lean my forehead against the wall pushing a cold gun barrel to my lips. I don't even look to the side where the dead body is peeking at me from, reminding me of what I've done. I'm breathing heavily, struggling to calm down. I just took another life. But it was in a good case. He deserved it. Right? I was driven crazy by my insane vision and took a life of a person without a second thought. But even if what I saw wasn't true, he still deserved dying for even trying to sell this drug to some kid. Right?...
,,Jesus..." Niccòlo says out of breath as he nearly stumbles against me. He's bend in half, hands on his laps, peeking his head from behind his shoulders to look at me. ,,That was an impressive shot."
I do nothing but stare at him. I don't know what to say. I did know I was doing well at the shooting range. Didn't know that I was doing that well. It almost scares me. The precision I have in murdering. Killing. Taking someone's life without permission. It's my fifth murderer in two weeks, if I count finishing what a dying man couldn't do himself. And the awareness of that makes me want to strangle myself.
,,Come on." Niccòlo says wrenching me out from counting my endless points of mistakes I made. He reaches his hand to me to help me stand up. He's calm. He's not scared of what I've done. I can't say the same about myself. ,,The police is going to be here soon. They must have heard the gun shots already. They won't really care as it happened in the suburbs but we should hide."
I reach for his welcoming hand and stand up to my feet. I turn around to look into the face of a man I murdered once again. And an anger, so fuming, runs through my veins. Once again I see what I saw in my vision. The boy choking to death. Completely alone. Completely helpless. Completely dead. My mind is swallowed by madness. And before Niccòlo manages to pull me back I fire a gun one more time. And again. Directly into his chest. One hole in the middle. One a little bit lower. I'm looking at the new piercings I delivered him, blood oozing from them as Niccòlo practically drags me out of the alley.

,,Are you insane?" He says catching my shoulders, forcing  me to look at him. My sight is blurry, I feel drugged by the adrenaline and anger. I'm zoning out. I have no idea where I am. I can't feel the ground under my feet.
Niccòlo takes no time before he pulls me down the road. I can already hear the police sirens screaming at us from behind our backs. As I run, blindly leaded by a man I have no idea why I trust I pull my scarf again on my face, covering it.
My legs are burning as we reach the hidden in the side alley building. Niccòlo pulls me down some stairs that must lead to some underground floor of the block. The block that is, as well, completely abandoned. Every single building here is made of sandy-coloured brick, it looks like we are in a desert. It's making me sick. I've spent too much time in the desert already. He kicks the old, wooden door open and we burst inside. He smashes the door so hard I'm afraid they'll fell off the hinges. The cellar we entered is dark, cluttered, the sun is shining through the tiny windows embedded right under the ceiling. I fall down on my knees, tired, shocked, hungry, confused. I don't know what is going on with me. I feel like someone slowly stick knives in my skull piercing it through. My heart too. Niccòlo leans against the door with his back, tilting his head to rest on the wooden plate as well. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief and annoyance. I'm looking up at him, feeling like a little, stupid child. As soon as the police cars pass the building we hid in he looks at me.
,,You really do draw some attention, don't you?" He says breathing heavily.
,,Inadvertently." I say feeling off. Feeling like I don't belong to this universe. Maybe I don't.
,,Sure." He says letting out another loud sigh and crouching in front of me with his arms on his knees. ,,Why?" He asks studying my pale from fear face.
,,I..." I don't know what to say. I had a vision of this boy dying because of the drug overdose? He would most definitely drag me back to the mental asylum himself. So I say only ,,He was just a child."
,,He was." He says resignedly running his hand through his face and combing his hair back with it but they once again splatter across his forehead in a beautiful, almond mess. ,,And he would have most definitely died if it wasn't for you." He says looking back at me again. He tries to calm me down. Unsuccessfully.
,,Am I insane?" I ask uncontrollably, unable to bite my tongue before the words slip from it.
,,Very." He says as one corner of his lips lifts in a smile. ,,But I never liked sane girls."
Is it just hot in this cellar or are my cheeks on fire?
,,We're going to stay here for a while." He says sitting on the floor, propping the door with his back again. ,,You can now tell me something about yourself." It's nothing to him. He just wants to have a small talk after what I've done. He is wrong. He is insane, not me.
,,Well, I've just killed a person so nothing really comes to my mind." I say swinging on the floor, I don't even know where I'm looking. I see everything and nothing at once.
,,So you have to take your mind of it. That's the world you live in, amore." He says letting out a quiet laugh.
,,I don't want to live in such a world." I whisper. It brings his deadly serious attention on me.
,,Don't say you want to take your life." He says alarmed, worried. Like I was holding a blade to my chest in the very moment, threatening to stab myself with it.
,,I'm too much of a coward." I say swallowing a lump in my swollen throat. Swallowing an image of Noah forbidding me to do so. I did think about it every time after I took someone's life. Taking mine would be an appropriate exchange. But I'm selfish. I've just started living. I can't finish it already. Even if I should.
,,Give me the gun." He orders reaching his hand to me. He is scared I'm going to hurt myself. I silently pass him the weapon I hid behind the belt of my pants. His pants.
,,Better." He says after tucking the gun behind his own. He never stops looking at me. He is stripping me naked with his very eyes. And it's killing me.
,,Tell me something about my brother." I say after a long moment of an awkward silence during which he didn't even blink piercing me with his gaze. If he wants to take my mind of things, fine. I have to test him. Is he really worth trusting. Not like him saving my life, three times wasn't enough proof. ,,What was he like during his last days?"
,,He was quiet." He says without hesitation, truly. ,,He was quiet most of the time actually. He really missed you." He says so gently, so calmly, so truthfully that my heart sinks. ,,He told me that he had a little sister he left back home. That he was worried about you, because your parents were not very... caring." He says searching my face for any reaction. I'm too used to being numb, especially when it comes to my parents to flinch at his words. ,,He told me that you two loved swimming in the forest lake, back in the old times. He told me you had an unhealthy obsession about your hair. And that you were having dance classes before moving to the Sun city. He said you were an amazing dancer." He says stripping me naked once again. He knows so much about me. He knows me since I was a little girl because of my brother's words. And I feel so deeply intimidated, so deeply ashamed I want to drown in tears.
,,You clearly know a lot about me." I say trying to sound offended. I'm scared this guy knows me so well. And I don't know him at all. He nods, gifting me with a kinky smile. ,,Still, I don't know nothing about you."
,,You know that I'm Italian." He protests acting hurt.
,,That's a lot." I say rolling my eyes. He really can take my mind out of things.
,,What else do you want to know about me?" He asks gently, his voice tingling my ears. It's so warm and deep.
,,I don't know, everything." I say but his frowned in surprise brows make me correcting myself ,,Everything that will make me be sure you'll not kill me in my sleep."
,,You've been sleeping in my bed for five days and I didn't." He responds.
,,It isn't your home, is it?" I ask, attacking him with this topic. His face flinches. I hit the spot.
,,You really are reading me like an open book." He says, swinging his head in resignation. Smile. ,,How did you know?"
,,You're to sophisticated to be living in such a place." I am a stupid little girl that can't bite her tongue in the right moment.
,,Well, thank you." He says giving me a sly smile. ,,But my real place isn't much better. In exchange for fighting the host lets me have a room in the hotel he owns." He says trying so hard not to look embarrassed.
,,So that's why you're fighting." My words are more a statement than a question. He has to survive. No matter what cost.
,,Yeah. Man has to make a living." He sighs.
,,Why don't you find a job that's more... ethical?" I ask. I ask too many questions. But it seems like I'm going to be spending a lot of time with him so I don't want to take a long way. I want to strip him naked like he does do to me. Naked of secrets, of course.
,,Well, legally I'm dead, so it's not that easy, you know." He says laughing like it's the best joke he ever told. My eyes widen.
,,What do you mean?" I ask confused.
,,Well, I run away from home when I was thirteen and my parents reported me as dead. So I'm not existing. In the theoretical sense." He says so casually.
I'm stunned. I don't know what to say.
,,And you were fighting since thirteen?" I ask unbelievably.
,,No, of course not." He laughs at my shocked words. ,,In that case I would be dead even in a practical sense. I've got taken in by a little family in the suburbs. When I was fifteen I applied to an army. They were not very wealthy." He says seriously, like this memory broke something in him. Awakened something that's been sleeping for ages.
,,I'm sorry you had to make a living that way." I say truthfully. I can't imagine forcing myself to do such a thing in order to survive. Even though I did a lot already.
,,Well, your brother joined army too." He states.
,,Yes, but he had some... other reasons." I say hesitantly. I have no mood for telling him that Noah joined the army to escape my terrorising him mother. And because she told him if he didn't join she would kick him out of the house.
,,Maybe. He never told me." He says swinging his arms in fake indifference.
,,So... why did you run away? From your parents, that is." I say searching a safe ground for those words. I don't know how far I can push him.
,,Long story, old scars that I'm not really fancy opening again." He says visually annoyed. His words are sharp. Well, I've already pushed too hard.
,,I get it." I say trying to calm him down. My disobedient tongue will cause me trouble one day.
We stay in silence. Silence so deep only his piercing eyes fill. I wonder if he ever even blinks. He looks hypnotised, like he is in some other dimension. Like he left his body and only the empty shell remains, while his soul is floating somewhere high above. It reminds me so much about me. For the last five years.
,,We can go now." He says dragging his body up.
,,Where?" I ask confused. He just told me he is practically homeless.
,,I have a fight tonight and I haven't been sleeping for two days watching you. I have to get some rest if you don't mind." He says gifting me with a little smile and offering me his hand to help me stand up. He didn't sleep for two days to take care of me?...
I don't say a word. I feel ashamed that I had any doubts in a man that gave up his own well being for me. For no one. Maybe he feels like he owns it to my brother, his friend, to take care of me. But I'm shameless thinking that I shouldn't be grateful for him. He saved my life. If it wasn't for him, I would be back in the asylum. Or dead. I'm a horrible person.
I accept his hand and silently drag up to my feet. For a short moment we stay quiet, face to face, separated by mare inches. I can feel his chest pounding slowly against mine. I can feel his eyes drowning in mine. Those black holes of eyes seem like a refuge to me. Like I trusted them before. But he doesn't allow me to contemplate that thought for much longer as he turns around and opens the door slightly. He peeks out of it and when he makes sure the surrounding is empty, he pulls me by my hand out of the cellar. Cold, fresh air attacks my nostrils immediately bringing me back to reality. It's freezing outside. The snow starts falling down on us covering this hideous world with a little peace. I always liked snow. It is so pure. Before we climb up the stairs he pulls his bandana higher on his face and turns to look at me. The black fabric contrasts so intensively with his practically white hair. And then he drops my hand and fixes the cloth higher in my face. The feeling of his fingers brushing my skin warms me in the cold air.
,,We are quick. And silent." He says still holding the fabric hugging my face even though he doesn't have to. His eyes are hungry, starving for an answer. I nod my head in response. And even though his mouth is covered I can see a slight smile in his eyes.
And then he pulls me up the stairs onto the covered with snow alley. It's beautiful. I love white. I love snow. I remember now. When I was a little girl I loved to play in it. It made me calm. A new piece of memory wrenches to my brain like a bullet. I wonder how many new discoveries it can fit.
We're picking up a pace as we sneak through the suburbs so empty they look abandoned. I can already feel the low temperature freezing blood in my veins. But I don't stop, I don't slow down. His hand still grips mine providing me a little warmth. We glue to the walls when a car drives by. I wander if a dead lady's body is already invisible under the coat of snow.

After a long, freezing jogging through the icy city we finally meet the familiar surrounding. It's the Borderland. It's covered behind the cage of buildings we approached. Niccòlo drags me through the thin layer of snow to one of the blocks. It doesn't look as neglected as the ones we saw in the outskirts because we are much closer to the city centre. It's higher, the windows aren't cracked but it still looks pitifully poor. I'm so not used to living in such places it gives me shivers. Niccòlo pushes open the door and we enter a hallway. At least the building is equipped in electricity. The floor is covered in old, red, oriental carpet, the walls are wooden panels. The hotel. We pass a few doors and climb up the stairs. And once again. He, we, live on the third floor. The hallway looks exactly like the one we entered in the beginning. We approach the last door at the end of it. Niccòlo finally realises my hand and bends down to get the key hidden under the mat. As he opens the door I sigh in relief. The room is clean, it smells good in here, like a sandal wood. Exactly like him. There's no doubt it's his room. Floor is covered with a mosaic carpet, I can see a huge bed in the middle with a fresh, clean, white duvet contrasting with dark, wooden panels at the walls. Poor people have a thing with wooden panels for sure. There's a huge bookshelf on the side occupying the whole wall. It's filled with so many books I've never even seen in school. But I didn't notice much to be honest. There's also a little table pushed against the wall, splattered with so many papers like he was some kind of overworked accountant. I can see the second door on the other side, hopefully leading to the bathroom. I can see a wardrobe, probably hiding his endless collection of buttons down. There's also a beautiful lamp with a shade with oriental frescoes. He really is sophisticated. My eyes draw to the white, buttoned shirt laying next to the bed. It's splattered with blood. Niccòlo must have noticed my fascination because he quickly runs to the piece of clothing and kicks it under the bed, embarrassed.
,,Sorry for the mess." He says not turning to look at me. I'm stunned. I don't think I've ever seen a room so personal. Every single one I visited was dull, without a colour, without a soul. People don't really care about their places anymore. They have too much on their minds. But not him. He made this place his home. Because he doesn't have anything else.
,,It's beautiful." I say quietly trying to dig a hole in his back with my eyes. He turns to look at me with an awkward smile decorating his absolutely inhumanly handsome face. And then he approaches me, slowly, painfully. I stand there, stunned by his presence. I don't know what to do with my hands, with my eyes. He looks me up and down and I feel my bones ignite. Then, he suddenly catches my chin and tills my head up forcing me to look at him. I'm drowning in his very being. He pierces me through with his eyes and I want to stay in his hold forever.
,,I'm going to take a bath. Make yourself at home." He says as he is turning to head the bathroom unbuttoning his shirt slowly. I force myself to look away as I sit on the bed. Unsuccessfully. I try to occupy myself by taking of my shoes. Unsuccessfully. He just took of his shirt and tossed it on the floor revealing his absurdly sculpted back and hiding behind the bathroom door. Jesus, I have to learn some self control.