This World's An Ugly Place - Alex Gaskarth Fan Fic

I'm Losing All My Sanity

[Street Dreams by Hollywood Undead]

That night Alex didn't wake up screaming like the night before, rather this time I woke up to him moving around in his sleep. His chest heaved up and down while his legs swung back in forth like he was running. His arms didn't move as much but they would jolt every now and then while he would also move from laying on one side to another.

I sat up, blinking my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then, I reached forward and rubbed Alex's back softly. "Alex, you're dreaming. Wake up," I cooed softly on repeat until he stopped moving around.

He then sprung upwards, his chest rising and falling quickly with his breaths and his hair sticking to his forehead in sweat. The poor boy must have had some horrible dreams.

"It's okay," I murmured quietly, my hand still rubbing his back.

Alex didn't move, he was just letting his breathing calm down and then he turned his head to face me. "I can never sleep," he whispered, his voice wavering.

I bit down on my lip, scooting closer to the boy and wrapping my arms around him. "Of course you can, it will get better."

He leaned into my embrace, one of his hands holding onto my arm wrapped across his chest. "You don't understand, I can never get away from it."

I rested my head against his. "What do you mean?"

"I've had them ever since..." he trailed off, but I understood his reference. "They're just not getting any better." His voice was becoming more choked up and he ducked his head a bit.

"Believe me, Alex, when I say it gets better. When my parents died, I didn't know what to do with myself. They were two of my closest friends; dead. And then when I had to leave my home and come here, I was beyond done with my life but I kept living," I whispered, squeezing my arms around him.

"How?" he asked, his voice hoarse and I could feel some of his tears drip onto my arm.

"You just have to find a new reason to keep living," I explained. "It can be something so little, but something that means something to you."

Alex sniffed. "What do you live for?"

"A lot of things, actually."

He leaned backwards, taking both of us back to laying on the bed. "I want to hear them."

I sighed, letting one of my hands fall onto his chest while I thought. "The smell of outside after the rain, or the cool feeling in the air in the morning when the suns still rising and everything is still asleep," I whispered to him.

"I want to hear more," Alex whispered back, his voice becoming normal once again.

"The way the birds are always singing; no matter what. And how hearing a simple song could turn your day from bad to good," I spoke.

Alex was quiet, but he tapped my arm lightly to continue.

"The feeling of pride that surges through your chest when you first get a song down right on the guitar. Also how happy a dog is to see you every time you visit." He chuckled softly at that one, but I could tell his eyes were growing heavy in the darkness. "You want me to continue?"

"Mm," he responded, which I could only assume was a yes.

"How amazing it feels to take a sip of cool water after a hot summer day. The smell of freshly popped popcorn and the way soda feels all bubbly and nice going down your throat. And also how the trees creak on a windy day," I whispered, leaning my head against the tired boy.

"You should be a poet," Alex murmured, cuddling into my body. At any other time if a boy I just met did this, I would shove them off and be done with it; but Alex had the exception.