POISONED BLOOD

Chapter 4

He leans back to stare at me, and I feel utterly naked. He can't possibly know.

"It confuses me how you see so much, but know too little." What? He smiles and lifts his shirt up. I gasp. Right beneath his jeans... a small black gun peeks out. Him? No, it can't be.

"It's n... not you." I watch in confusion as he takes it out and presses the barrel under my chin.

"What are you doing?!" Bri squeals in fright. He pays her no mind at all.

"Stop it!" I see Daisy run at him, but Bri grabs her and I'm grateful to her. I could not bear them getting hurt. Especially, since I'm the one who brought them into this mess. His body stiffens and I raise my hand slowly. He doesn't speak as I touch his hand that threatens my life. The pressure is feathery light, but he is wary of it. Grey's eyes are red, as if he has been crying. I don't understand anything that's happening. However, I don't care for my life. It's his that is at risk. He won't shoot me. He doesn't know, love, or need me; he still won't shoot me. I don't believe he'd ever kill a soul. Except... his. NO! I try to catch his hand, but I'm too late. He presses it to his temple as a tear falls from both eyes.

"Please, sto-

"Don't hate me." He whispers. The gunshot echoes throughout the whole school.

My head aches as I open my eyes. I'm in the gym, slumped against Daisy. I sit up and blood rushes in my head as stars blind me.

"Where's Grey? Is he... dead?" Daisy is open mouthed and I don't think she's going to answer.

"Who?" Bri asks, poking her head behind Daisy's and supporting herself by gripping the blue bleachers that are packed with teenagers. One guy gives her a look and she shoots one back.

"What?" He grunts and I just sit frozen in disbelief. It was a dream. How was it all a dream? When did I fall asleep this time? Why am I falling asleep in the first place? I'm not tired, a bit stressed but under the circumstances that's acceptable.

"No one, I was just dreaming."

"Oh. Alright then." She smiles and turns into the sitting position she had earlier. Daisy hasn't said anything, but I feel like she's trying to pull my brain out to find my thoughts. I slide my eyes away from her's and see the cop and dog I heard about in my dream. Honestly, I'm not even sure when my dream started. Rotating my neck as if I'm trying to pop it, I survey the bleachers to try and find Grey.

"Dreaming about me, huh?"

"Gah!" I jump like Scooby Doo does into Shaggy's arms, but Daisy is there. So, I attempt to chill out and breathe calmly. Grey is grinning at me and I have not an inkling of what I should say. Oh yeah, you were a crazy psychopath in my dream. I press my lips together and he leans closer, pressuring me to slide closer to Daisy. She hasn't said anything, most likely waiting to hear what I say to him.

"What's making you so antsy?" He questions and turns his body until he's fully facing mine, legs seated on the bleachers like a cowboy rides a horse. He's no cowboy, though. Gulping down the lump in my throat, I shrug my shoulders. The dream pierces me like a needle, and I glance at the bottom of his shirt. He laughs aloud. My cheeks color over with embarrassment. Great, he thinks I was looking... This SUCKS.

"You alright, Laney? You're turning a little red." Daisy inputs increasing the coloring.

"I am not!" The lie is past obvious as my voice squeaks, giving me away. Putting my elbows on my knees, I rub my face down from my eyes. People say don't do that because it'll make your skin sag when you're older, but it's a bad habit of mine. I'm stressed beyond my limits and all I want right now is a break. I need to get away from Grey and find myself a Mountain Dew. Thinking about a drink makes my mouth water and throat ache.

"So, was I a prince saving you from a fire breathing dragon?" Grey asks jokingly. He watched Shrek. This is my main thought and a hysteric laugh slips out. I turn my head in my hands to see his face and he smiles a tiny bit. I roll my eyes but feel my lips returning the gesture.

"No." He raises one eyebrow.

"Was it bad, because I heard you say something about dying or death in the same sentence as my name?" Ughh. Why can't he just forget it? I grumble and try to imagine something else to explain why death was in my words; also, I search my brain for a very good reason to attain for him being in my dream to start with. Nothing.

"There was a shooting." My eyes widen as I realize I spoke the truth, just not everything. He nods as if he understands.

"So, I was shot?" I can't look at him. Yeah, he was shot.

"Yeah." Grey is silent; he scoots next to me till his knee makes contact with my thigh. I don't even move.

"Who shot me? Was it someone here?" His voice is serious and I want to see his eyes, but I really don't want to tell him that he had the gun.

"Yes." I skip the first question but he isn't about to let it slide.

"Tell me. Please?" He tries being polite. Yet, it doesn't hide the annoyance. Do I tell him? It's the only way to see his reaction. I hold off, desperately wanting my mind to visualize the future minutes, to see the truth before it is true. I want to know that he won't freak out, but my eyes see nothing besides black as I close them. Please, show me. I never beg to be given answers like this, but it's changing. It's not fair! I'm shown all this horrible crap and most random stupid things, but my mind won't allow what's important to me?! I wish this would all go away and I could be back in Journalism right now. I don't want to be here in this freaking assembly and sitting next to a guy I dreamed shot himself; he was one of the people I couldn't save. I've seen things happen two weeks later in my dreams that I didn't know about. I saw a woman raped by her boyfriend. I saw someone burn to death on the highway when a big truck hit them, flipping their car over and over. I saw my Papaw's grave. I saw my uncle's decapitated body. I saw a woman and her babies die in the night because the children played with matches. I saw my Grandmother waste away in front of me and felt the cold gun in her hand. I seen all these things that I could not stop because I was shown afterwards. I blame myself for it. I live with the guilt, but nothing hurts me more than the stuff i could have changed. Sometimes, I ignored my dreams because I thought they were just that. I was given a chance to save people or alter it, but I almost never could do that. I saw my best friend's baby die in his mother's womb. I didn't say anything and when I was told about it a week later I cried my worst. Could I have saved the child? I don't know, but I could have tried and I didn't. I saw my brothers and sister get hurt many times that I didn't warn them about because I wasn't sure. I stopped believing they are only dreams. If I see it, I believe it. I can't risk the consequences. So, I choose to tell Grey.

"You." It's so quiet beside me, I feel like he disappeared but the pressure on my thigh tells me otherwise. I want to comfort him but I don't know how. How do you comfort someone when you just said they shot their self? In a dream or not, I don't imagine a person anywhere in the world wanting to hear that. My eyes burn with tears as I think of him carrying out the act. He's a stranger to me, but I saw him at his weakest moment and it wasn't a pretty sight. The pain he felt, I felt. Yes, that's at times another symptom that comes with the dreams. I feel what they feel. It's emotionally, rather than physically. Although, I get that too. I may have felt confusion and a little fear with Daisy and Bri, but I felt it all with Grey. He hurt and I hurt with him. A hand taps my arm on Grey's side and I peek at him. He smiles at me, but I see it clearly written in his eyes.

"I think I already knew."