The Boy in the Photograph ↪ Brallon

Chapter 11; Telemagenta

As soon as Dallon woke up he rushed to his study. It was only 11:00 which left him a menial hour to get ready but that was besides the point. On a mission to talk to Brendon he skidded around the corner of the door frame. Brendon was people watching in the living room and usually he knew exactly when Dallon would be up but today happened to be special and the tall young man arose much earlier than usual.

Dallon threw the notebook open and began writing furiously not caring if Brendon read this now or later; he just needed to get it out before hr forgot.

A dream is what he was writing about, spewing crazy words dancing across the page in odd rhythmic manners, Brendon only noticed when he had finished as a loud 'huff' left Dallon's lips and the clink of his pen hitting the hardwood floor roughly, his hand throbbing and sore from the seemingly endless writing. Brendon phased into the room and giggled a little at the lightly sweaty Dallon laying on the floor. At this moment Brendon wished for anything that he could see and hear him, he'd tell him how much of a dork he looked sprawled out on the floor. But writing now will be fine for Brendon. He floated down to the floor and willed his writing finger into existence he's getting a lot better at it he had to say himself. The part that scared him the most however was that the demon horns were growing longer and longer everyday. As the sun rose today Brendon saw the tips beginning to turn the same deathly grey shade as his finger, the base of the horns staying the same tone as his skin however.

"I'm going to my new work Brendon, have a good day!" Dallon left the room with a succesful three whole pages being written on, both sides. Brendon silently waved his good bye and started reading on the first page.

So I'm just gonna start writing right away here from how I remember the dream starting.

I walked alone in a park, going back to an empty house I don't really feel I can call my own. I wish I had someone to call my own rather. My place is rather dull and it's been making me extremely depressed for really no reason. I think I'm just lonely to be honest.

A swift gust of wind makes me pull my long tan coat tighter around myself.

I hear someone shudder to the right of me, a quick glance speaks for a young, probably early twenties boy (well dressed too) sitting on a park bench alone. I nod lightly to him and continue walking not thinking anything else of him.

But when I hear a small whimper I stop my strut short. I tried to turn back around casually, not to scare the boy but he notices me immediately making direct eye contact; he buries his head back in his knees and continues to shudder. Wearing a short over coat and pressed brown buttoned shirt it did not appear as if he was cold but rather his heart was. Void of the normal presence there that normally filled him with necessary warmth.

I took my long coat off and placed it around his shoulders, his shaking ceased quickly and he stopped moving at all. I'd think I killed the kid but the steady rise and fall of his ribs I could see on his back said otherwise, which filled me with relief.

"Thankyousir." A quick of words escaped his muffled mouth.

"Pardon?" I responded unsure of his exact words.

He lifted his head and meeting my eyes again, his a deep chocolate brown and his irises the size of the moon. "I said thank you sir, I did not realize how cold I was until you put your coat on me." He gestured by lifting part of the collar towards me. It had started to lightly snow and sparkling snow flakes littered the air around us, some large enough to make out the finely carved details, this would explain why it felt to be extra cold today, first snow fall of winter.

I waved my hand dismissing him."It is no problem, just trying to help anyone else out the best I can, I know how it feels." The boy wiped his tired swollen eyes.

"Do you really?" He questioned, and to be truthful, no I didn't just sometimes in situations like this little white lies will sometimes make a world of difference.

He raised an eyebrow at me as I took too long to respond so I simply shrugged back in reply.

"My boyfriend dumped me." The young man said turning his head away from me and looking down the path I walked to here. I had to physically keep my mouth shut with my hand to keep my jaw from reaching the ground. It was not okay to be openly gay. I knew from experience, not that long ago a man who was openly gay was put into jail and "suddenly died from an unexplainable illness" I knew it was a bunch of bullshit. It was no doubt a cover up for his unnecessary murder with no trial. For this stranger I just put my coat on for comfort to say his "boyfriend" broke up from him had me floored.

"I-I'm so sorry to hear that..." I said finally, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. The shaggy deep brown haired boy shrugged into my hand so I decided more words again would be best.

"I do not know how a break up feels, you're right, but I do understand how it feels to have the world against you. As in being queer, because I am too" I hushed my voice from prying ears. "I know that deeply." I clutched my clothes over my chest where my heart is. The boys eyes lit up slightly, I could tell his mood was lifted too, even if just a little bit, for a split second I did my job right.

I patted him on the back again as he kept staring at me and I stood up brushing the crisp snow flakes off my slacks. The boy unfolded his legs from the bench, keeping his head down now the same amount of flakes fluttered off him and to the dirty park ground.

He started to take the coat off but I stopped him, "Keep it, I think you need it more than I do." I waved my hand in dismissal. Nodding he slumped back into the park bench and I took that as my final queue to leave. "Be honest to yourself, It will make life easier." I said leaving the park completely.

Brendon finished reading with tears in his eyes. The last words Dallon spoke in his story really hitting him hard. He closed his notebook and did the same with his eyes, countless tears now splitting from his face. This was about him. This story Dallon wrote was unknowingly about him. It was him at that park, he was the shaggy brown haired boy crying about his break up. Brendon remembering everything so clearly now made him beyond emotional. That night he went to the park, he remembers, no one came and talked to him. Dallon had dreamed this, he dreamed that he had talked to Brendon, and he believes now if someone really had reassured him like Dallon did, he would not have died then. Truly small words of encouragement can save a life, at the least make someone remember there is still reason to live on to the next day at the very least.

But Dallon really was not there for Brendon, that was the very night he killed himself. It was deeply cold and Brendon still remembers to this day in his ghostly form how it burned him to the bones. Brendon couldn't stand even being in the same room as his book anymore. The thoughts of Dallon saving him all those years ago sent him into an unexplained stupor. One filled with violent things and uncontrollable dreams. But the normal thing is, ghosts do not dream, and as Brendon floated into Dallon's room to rest on his bed a headache began to form were his horns had grown more.

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❤Thank you as always for reading commenting and voting! This chapter for some reason was privated with no way of my knowledge to un-do that so I have to delete some parts and republish them I apologize for any confusion❤