Dreamers- Book 1

Chapter Twenty Eight- Bellamy

Bellamy blinked, his eyes closing as the bright white light of the dream sphere blinded him. The room whirred as it registered that he was awake, the lights dimming, bed rising into a chair. The oval room was like any other room in this white city, Bellamy decided, glancing around. Its only saving grace the two long paintings that wrapped around the room. They were painted by a historical painter, but his name had been lost to history.

Pippa would know, he thought as he gazed around the room, waiting for whoever had been watching his dream to leave the observation room.

He took a deep breath as the door slid open, his parents entering the room followed by the dream sphere doctors. They were all eyeing him curiously, as though he had sprouted a second head as he had slept through the night.

"So?" He asked to get the conversation starting. "What now?"

"Home, you're moving in with us." His mother replied, her voice worried.

Bellamy nodded in reply, knowing that arguing would be futile.

"Get dressed, we will be in your mother's office. The President has requested an update; I need to call him." His father said, excusing himself from the room.

"Is that all for my son?" His mother asked, turning to the doctors.

"Yes, that will be all for now, thank you." They replied, not taking their eyes off of him as he slipped down from the chair and followed his father from the room.

The journey with his mother from the office, down the side of the building to his parents' home, was taken in silence.

He was satisfied to see that the place hadn't changed at all since he was last there.

"Your small box with a bed will be sold, you will be living in the guest room until you are released from the hospital, then we can see about purchasing you a suitable place to live." His mother said, going to the kitchen area, ordering a cup of tea.

Box with a bed. Bellamy chuckled, he hadn't heard that insult from her before, and she had been through a lot of them.

"So... Did you watch anything of interest, I imagine you were glued to the screen all night?" He asked, taking a seat on a comfortable arm chair that faced the window.

"Pippa is lovely isn't she. Unlike anyone else you've ever seen?" He continued as he was met with his mother's silence.

"Funny, smart, her smile is beautiful, and her eyes..." He smirked as he heard a tea cup slam against the dining room table.

"She is dead. Bellamy, you are swooning over a dead girl." His mother spat. She took a deep breath before taking a sip from her cup.

He pursed his lips together. He knew she was long gone, dead and buried. But it was a fact he had been able to ignore for the past few days.

"Thanks for the reminder, mother." He replied, no longer caring about his attitude. His parents had made it incredibly clear where they stood, and he was old enough now to stand with his own thoughts and views.

"I mean it, Bellamy. The girl is dead, or at least in her time, she will be within a few days." The way she said it so nonchalantly made Bellamy's blood boil and he jumped from his chair.

"What?" He asked in disbelief. "Pippa isn't going to die in a few days, I can't believe you would say something like that."

His mother shrugged, taking another sip of tea. "I thought you knew? You've read her file haven't you?"

Bellamy thought back to reading her file, he had started it, reached the time she was in now- but gone no further. The thought of looking into her future hadn't occurred to him.

"You're bluffing." He retorted, going back to sit in the armchair.

"Why would I lie about something as morbid as that? It would be easy enough to check, anyway." She replied.

Bellamy tried to take a deep and calming breath, but something in him snapped. Jumping from his chair, he stalked to the interactive wall.

Waving his hand over the screen, it sprung to life, scanning his face before opening his personal account. "Open file entitled 'Pippa White' He said aloud, watching as the familiar face of his friend sprung onto the screen, finishing on the last news article he had read.

"Well. Aren't you going to read on?" His mother asked, coming to stand by his shoulders, still sipping on her tea, her slurping itching at his patience.

He heard a tut, his mother lifting her own hand to move the file along to the next article as he stood still, his hands unmoving by his side.

The picture that filled the screen made his heart stop. It was a photograph of his lovely Pippa, smiling and happy. Her eyes shining at the camera, the small freckles that dusted her nose visible. The picture only caught his attention for a second, but the words that covered the top and the bottom took his breath away completely.

Missing. £10,000 reward for information.

"You're lying. You made this up." He said, tearing his eyes away from the image to narrow his eyes at his mother.

They could have done this; the government could have made this image to trick him.

"Go to the next image." His mother said.

Reluctantly he swiped to the next image. It was a newspaper article, with a clip of a news reel.

"Play." He said quietly, not really wanting to hear what the reporter was about to say. The clip sprung to life.

'The investigation into missing student Pippa White has reached its end. Two years ago today Pippa went missing from her home in the small town of Howden, not to be seen since. The police, along with the family have agreed that leaving her home voluntarily, and not sending any form of communication back to her parents is not in keeping with her behavior. She is presumed dead, her body washed away by the torrential rain and floods that swept this town for just a few days-.'

"Stop!" Bellamy shouted out, the clip jolting to a stop.

"You did this. You are making this up to play with my mind, to make me do what you want me to do." He said, turning to his mother.

"Why would I have done it?" His mother replied, taking another sip of tea.

His anger bubbled over, her callous attitude to the situation grating on him. With one swipe he had slapped the tea cup away from her hands and smashed it against the wall.

"Bellamy!" His mother shrieked, taking a step back from him in horror.

"Tell me the truth! For once in your life, tell me!" He shouted back, his fists clenched by his side, breathing labored as he tried to control himself.

"Why would I tell you something like that?" She snapped back. "I guess you will see that this is real when you fall asleep in a few days' time and go back to dreaming like a normal person again." She retorted.

Bellamy stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall. He slumped to the floor defeated. She was going to die. In a few days, she was going to disappear from his dreams completely and he was never going to see her again.

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