Undiscovered [DreamNotFound]

Mortal

[Violence warning]

Dream is pulling me by the hand through streets I've never seen. It's nighttime, and the sounds of dogs howling mournfully pierce the sky. I'm scared, though I don't know why. Dream looks more of a god than he already does, and his grip on my hand is firm and unfaltering. It's supposed to calm me and tell me that it's all going to be alright, but somehow I just don't feel like it.

He leads me through alleyway after alleyway, hoping to find a refuge or at least survive until daytime arrives. Though the moon is bright, the shadows in the alleys are darker than they are supposed to be. I can't see Dream's face from behind him, but something tells me that he's becoming increasingly panic-stricken. He ducks behind another narrow alley, but it just leads to more darkness, more pitch-black streets with no end.

We continue like this. An hour passes, two hours pass, but to me it feels like time has stopped because the moon doesn't seem to be moving and nor does anything around us. Dream is still gripping my hand, trying to find a safe place. Something tells me that he's doing it for my safety, not his own. He never looks back at me, but is focused on the paths in front of him. I want him to look back, though. I want him to look at me and assure me it's going to be alright, that I'm going to be fine and that he's going to stay with me forever.

Suddenly, Dream is pulled up short by something in front of him. I try to peek out from behind him, to see what has caused even my god to falter, but Dream pushes me back roughly. He doesn't say anything, but the message is clear: Stay behind me. I'll handle it.

I hear the sounds of a weapon being unsheathed from the other end. I scream loudly, trying to throw myself in front of Dream, but Dream pushes me back again, this time rougher. But it's of little use because the hand that has been holding me flies off. I watch it land a little distance away from me and start bleeding in spurts. I look back in horror at Dream. He's collapsed, clutching his severed arm. A movement to my side distracts me, and I look up into the eyes of a hooded man. If you could call them eyes. Red slits glow from the shadows of his face, and looking into them I begin to see things. But he doesn't hold my gaze for long, and turns back to Dream. He shouts something to his gang members, though I can't exactly hear him because of the sound of my heartbeat in my eardrums. They all nod, unsheath their daggers, and converge on Dream.

My screams join the howls of the dogs. I can't see much of him through the cloaks of the men, but they're hacking at him, cutting him to pieces. Their robes are drenched in blood. The liquid pools over the ground, and I watch helplessly as they ravage the body of my Dream, my precious Dream.

I try to spring for them, to inflict some amount of wounds on them, but I'm thrown effortlessly back by one of the men whose arm reaches out to push me. Again and again I try, and again and again I fail. After they're satisfied with their work, they turn to their leader for their orders. The leader looks at me, then says in a clear, low voice:

'Kill the mortal.'

My eyes shoot wide open, and I'm gasping for air without knowing it. I take a bit of time to understand that I'm safe in my bed, unharmed, unhurt.

I'm bound by the arms of somebody. Or something. I give a gasp and struggle to get out from under them. They're pinning me down, pinning me down so that they can kill me, pinning me down so that I can die by the hands of the people who killed Dream.

But I relax when I look over and recognise what has its arms over me. Dream. He's alive. No one hurt him. Nothing has happened to him. It was just a nightmare.

I inch closer to him. His warmth is welcoming and is an indicator that he's still alive. I throw my arm around him, relieved that he's right here. I'm almost sobbing. If I'd woken up and he wasn't there...

His expression looks troubled, as if someone has been kicking him in his sleep. Which I suppose I have. I reach up and smooth out the area in between his brows and caress his forehead until the muscles in his face relax. I continue to caress his face, outlining his eyes and nose and lips with my finger. He's so perfect, so angel-like in his sleep. No, god-like. So god-like in his sleep.

I feel the barrier cracking. Nothing I do, nothing I tell myself is going to work. I know I'll never be able to convince myself that I don't like him. I knew that even when I resolved to form a barrier between him and me. I like him. I really do like him.

I don't know what my parents will think of me. What society will think of me. I don't know what's going to happen after this. I'll never work up the courage to tell him, obviously, but maybe he feels the same for me.

I tell myself this as I drift off back to sleep.

Morning arrives with Dream shaking me and yelling, 'There's a blizzard outside!' I blink a few times, then jump up to look out of the window. There really is a blizzard out there. A blizzard in February? It's almost spring!

This means that we're stuck inside until the roads are cleared. Which is good, because then Dream can't complain. I look up triumphantly at him.

'What?' he asks me.

'You can't complain about not being able to do anything outside now!' I say delightedly. Dream sighs and shakes his head.

'I'll still find a way to annoy you. Now that you're unfortunately stuck inside with me as the only other person inside, you'll have to put up with me.'

It's now my turn to sigh. 'You should ask some university to give you a PhD in the art of annoying me.'

'I should. That way I'll be qualified in annoying you and you won't be able to complain.'

I don't reply and head straight for my cupboard.

'Where are you going?'

I grab my towel.

'Oh no you don't!' Dream yells and makes a dash for his own towel. But I'm already way ahead of him and shutting the bathroom door while he tries to find his towel that I hid the previous day.

'You cheater!' he shouts from the other side as I snigger and lock the door.

Thankfully, Dream doesn't disturb me during my shower. I squat down and let the water wash over me, thinking about last night. I don't know why I'm getting nightmares like this. This is an absolutely new feeling to me. I hope they'll go away soon because I don't like waking up in the middle of the night panting.

I also remember the things I thought about last night. It seems impossible for me to accept whatever's been happening. What if Dream doesn't like me in the way I like him? He's always been so casual whenever something happens. It doesn't seem like he means it when he teases me by flirting. I'm so confused about what to do next. In the end, when I turn off the shower and stand up, I decide that I'll just have to hide my feelings from him until I work up the courage to tell him.