There is an unseen bridge that connects us from reality to dream.
There is a way to find who is dead, to search for who is alive.
There is a rope wrapping a soul to a body tight until grim reaper decides to break it.
This string, is a thread among y...
"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."
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The clock at the park showed eight.
Isadora came earlier than Charles, but they managed to meet up at the park they visited yesterday for a couple of ice cream cones. As the sun was not on the radar anymore, there were no children nor the ice cream van. It was just freezing air and noises from the wind against the branches of the trees.
Charlie had dug up some information about Dean Craig. The second son of an ex-town mayor, who decided to not continue the legacy he was born for. Having an older brother to take all the responsibility, now Dean only spent his time working as a courier from office to office, and lived in a small apartment nearby.
Isadora admired Charlie's fast and brief investigation about finding this person, but Charlie did the same because Isadora gave him head ups from the articles at the library. They headed to the apartment address that was collected from a package with his name on it.
The apartment was so much smaller than they expected. But they still felt so relieved when they caught a light from inside, encouraging them to knock on the door.
"You guys from the orphanage?" The first line Dean Craig delivered painted a frown on both Charlie and Isadora's faces as he opened the door.
Dean Craig was also far away from their expectations. A son of an ex-town mayor was predictably a sturdy man with a moral, neat suit, charming fragrant and big brick mansion that contained luxury cars for the dreamers. When he opened the door after Charlie knocked the door, he showed up as a skinny man with beards. It totally explained he lived alone as a single guy as the smell he had was disturbing as if he had not showered for at least three weeks.
"No, uh, I'm Charlie, and she's Isadora," Charlie introduced, trying to not be bothered by the annoyance of his appearance. "We need to talk about something,"
"Man..." He pawed his spine, looking disturbed by their coming. "First, I don't know who you guys are, and my crib is a fucking mess. You'll hate it."
"We hate it already," said Isa, she curled a smile in disgust.
"Look, it's so important. Please, let us in," Charlie begged. But Dean saw what he was holding, a scrap of newspaper that he recognized as an unforgettable trauma.
"H-hey! What the fuck is that thing?!" he asked, though he already knew what it was. The anxiety inside his words was clearly seen. "J-just throw it! Why the fuck did you bring me that fucking shit, man?! What's your problem?!"
"My brother is now suffering the same thing as you did twenty years ago. That's my problem!" Charlie raised his voice, but lowered it as soon as a moment of silence almost made it awkward. "You survived... You're the one who can help us to save him."
"I ain't still gonna let you in!" Dean shook his head, panic attacked him right in his head. He made a motion that was unexplained. "Dude, get the hell outta here."
