Torn between Dreams and Reality

Chapter 9

"All you see is really there

With a vision no one can compare

Neither delusion nor deceit

Do we use for discreet

Feel your fears, they're all near by

These are the ones that make you cry

Time is up and now it's free

Your dreams are becoming reality."

Two hands jerked me towards a warm body as I tried to flee from the grasp, shaking from head to toe. Nuzzled into someone's chest, I felt my screams die down as hiccups took their place. With my eyes closed, I shivered, trying to calm myself down.

"He's there, he's there, he's there. Tell him to go! He won't leave. I keep seeing him, I keep seeing him, Conrad... In my dreams, when I'm awake, when I'm asleep. How is he here? How can someone from the past come and stand Here right now!? Conrad, please... Send him away...... send him away..." I was chocked by my sobs once again as Conrad rubbed my back, making a hushing voice to quiet me down.

"Is—is she okay?" Leo asked, worry lacing his face as he stood there and watched.

"She's perfectly fine, just a little stressed out. You should probably go, it's already late."

Leo left us, then. I was left here with Conrad cradling me. "Easy, easy. Calm down, Claire. He's gone, everything's alright."

I shook my head. "Everything's not alright. It's not him... I've grown used to seeing him every day. It's—it's a younger version of him. I keep seeing him, he was there holding this weird butterfly that kept seeing in my dream yesterday. They were completely black. And they kept fly around me as if they were trying to eat me or something."

I felt Conrad's hold stiffen only to look at his face. His steel eyes were glazed as he looked afar at something. Then, he asked, "A butterfly like that one?"

Following his gaze, I felt my blood run cold as ice. I visibly shaking after this, my body no longer in my control as the butterfly flew towards us—towards me.

I tried scrambling away but before I could, it reached me and just as it touched me, I was somewhere else.

"Mommy, can I go out to play with Leo?"

I looked at where the voice came from. It was an eleven-year-old me. My hair was above my shoulders but my eyes, they still held their shine.

"Of course, you cannot. You're supposed to be here, helping me. Not waste your life with that useless boy who thinks everyone will be available for him when he wants them to be." My mother's voice yelled.

"But he's my friend."

"and is your friend going to clean the house, is your friend going to earn for you, is your friend going to help you face this cruel life? No. So, your friend is useless, in fact, having friends is useless. They just waste your time while you could do something useful."

"But—"

My mother didn't like me arguing with her. I knew what was coming.
Slap!

"Go to your room and don't bother coming down for dinner. You won't get any!"

The little me ran upstairs as I followed her, making my way to our room. She fell straight on her bed, sobbing up, soaking her pillow with her tears. I sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to console myself even though I knew I couldn't. I stroked her velvety hair, wishing she could feel me and know that she wasn't alone.

Then, there was a knock on the window—I knew who it was as the little me scrambled out of bed and made her way to open it.

"Leo!" she exclaimed lightly, wrapping her little arms around the boy who had made his way into the room.

"She didn't let you out, did she?" he asked, ruffling away the snow that had coated his hair.

My younger version shook her head, slightly upset by the fact.

Leo huffed, "You know, you could always come and live with me and my parents. They already love you and would be more than happy to take you in. we would have so much fun together and you'll be away from your harsh mum."

She smiled, grateful that she had such a helping friend but shook her head. "I mommy needs me, Leo. She's upset and depressed. I can't leave her in such a condition. That would make me no different than daddy. He always told us he loved us but he still left. You don't leave people you love, Leo."

He thought for a moment then sighed. "You've always been the smarter one, Éclair's."

Then he held his bag and searched for something in it. My heart was pounding as I remembered everything as he reached for what he was looking for and took it out. "Happy birthday, Éclair's."

Little Claire yelped with joy as she looked at the sparkling diary he held in his hands.

"For me, really?"

"No, for Captain America. Of course, it's for you, idiot. It's your big day! I know you wanted this."

"Oh, Leo. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!!!!!" she exclaimed, hugging her friend tightly as I watched the scene in front of me fade away.

I gasped for air as I straightened myself. I was in my room again, only this time, I woke up a sleeping Conrad who was sitting on a chair when I panted.

"You're awake, thank god. Are you okay, Claire? You feeling alright?"

I looked into his eyes, the steel cold as if it would be hard to break but soft enough to melt whenever he looked at me with concern.

"What happened?" I asked, rubbing my temple as I tried to focus.

"You fainted. I tried waking you up but you didn't even move a muscle, not even an inch. I brought you back to your place and waited for you to wake up. It's been hours now. Hell, I even told my mom that I'll be staying at a friend's place because you weren't waking up."

I looked down at my lap as red crept up my cheeks with shame. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, and replied, "You don't have to be. I'm just glad that you're awake."

We sat there in comfortable silence, just looking at each other when something came into my mind. I quickly got up and rushed towards my desk, shoving through the things in search of the diary, opening and making a mess of every drawer.

"Claire, what're you looking for?"

"Memories."

Confused expressions laced his face as he tilted his head. "What?"

"Those butterflies. They—they're all my memories. The ones that left a mark. The ones that mattered."