The Boy in the Gray Hoodie

TWENTY-THREE | Stay

Very short chapter. Don't hate me :D

The noise began suddenly. Scraping, banging, whining. Something outside was trying to get in. He covered his ears, heart pumping against his ribs, pounding inside and out. There was a loud CRACK and he jumped, terror pulling at the muscles in his arms and legs. Panic. He wanted to run, to break a window and get away from whatever was trying to break in.

"There are things outside that will hurt you," James had said. "It's dangerous out there, but not here. You're safe inside this shed. In this spot. Keep your head low—lower than the windows. Now stay. Stay." James extended his hand, palm down, and pressed it against E7's forehead. Stay.

Good boy.

A strangled whine came out as he looked from the windows to the door. If he didn't get out, that thing would get in. What was safe, wouldn't be. Danger.

Stay.

E7 couldn't move. His muscles ached to propel him through the glass and away from the noises at the other end of the shed. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tried to stay still but his body was pulsing, pushing, his feet sliding against the floor as his legs prepared to run.

The chain clinked and rattled against the door as it slid open. E7 folded himself into a ball on the floor, too afraid to look at what was coming. He closed his eyes and tried to take small, quiet breaths. Everything he did suddenly sounded so very loud.

Footsteps scuffing the floor, a rustle of clothing.

Opening his eyes, E7 peered underneath the table at a pair of shoes. It was a person, not a monster. He watched the shoes with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. They were pointed away from him, then slowly turned toward the windows. He sucked in a breath, held it, and slowly lifted his head to peek over the table between objects.

If he wasn't so scared and exhausted, he might have been curious about the contents of the shed. Since James had brought him here, he'd tried not to look around at all. The objects and colors, the open spaces and the closed ones, it all made his head spin. He'd been staring at the floor, his head on his knees since James left. He didn't want to see anything new—to be scared or confused and want to ask questions but be silent instead. When he raised his head to see the face of the person who broke into the shed, his frantic heartbeat slowed just a little. The face he saw wasn't new. Oatmeal hair and honey eyes.

It was her.

The girl from his dying dream.

She was here. She was real. Familiar, not dangerous. Safe.

Gaze shifting from one thing on the table to another, a smile played at the corners of her mouth. She was thinking about something that made her happy. Her brows were knit together, the side of her lip curved under as she bit it in concentration.

E7 copied her expression, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

Then she saw him.

"Oh god. You." Her voice was softer than he remembered. He blinked when she did, eyes widening like hers. It was like looking at a different kind of mirror. The one where you don't look like yourself at all. A kind of mirror he never knew existed.

"Ohgod," he whispered, trying the word out. What was an ohgod?

"What are you doing here? H-how did you even get here?" her wide eyes bulged even more. "Are you stalking me?"