dreamnotfound / gream • one shot / short story book

to dream a desperate dream

mmm okay so I'm writing this out as a WARNING this one shot includes really dark themes such as: suicide, self harm, mental illnesses, abuse, etc. please do not read it if it triggers you, something I never want to do is hurt somebody with my work.

That being said, if you are struggling I'm always here to talk and will to my best to be a friend or a shoulder to cry on. Reach out to someone, it could save your life, and your life matters ❤️

Warnings: suicidal thoughts/tendencies, self harm, mention of mental illnesses, abuse
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George didn't understand why he wasn't like other kids. He looked normal, sure. A little underweight for 5'9, but he managed to hide it underneath baggy hoodies.

He just didn't understand why.

Why he couldn't be happy in his own mind.

Why he thought about downing the bottle of pills he keeps hidden in his drawer.

Why he thought about taking a razor down the length of his arms.

And the worst part of it? Not a single soul bothered to listen. He was ignored a lot, shoved around the halls. Wary glances and intimidating stares were thrown his way every single day. George couldn't understand why he felt lost in his own head. Why he felt like doing stuff with his life but physically couldn't bring himself to do it.

He did have a friend once. His name was Nick. He died in a fire two months after meeting George.

After that, George thought he was cursed to either kill everybody or turn them against him.

His mother was an alcoholic, she brought home new men from bars every few nights. His dad left when he was younger, which was slightly better than when he was actually around.

George was abused by his father in several ways. Cigarettes would be burned into his skin. Scarred over lash marks from a belt scattered his back. Bruises were constantly being left all over his body. So when his father left, things got a little bit better.

He was dubbed "the weird kid" at his school. Even the teachers hated him. He failed his classes, not being able to focus on anything but the raging thoughts in his brain.

George couldn't remember the last time he smiled genuinely. He didn't know what his laugh sounded like, his voice box being void of the sound for so long. He wondered if he was even capable of doing so.

That is, until he met Dream.

George had been taking medicine for a long time to help him sleep. The melatonin hardly worked anymore against the feeling of itchy arms, attempting to heal from the self inflicted wounds he gave himself every few days.

Usually when he would be lulled to sleep, it would be dreamless, colorless, black and empty. Tonight was different though, his brain had sent him to a pretty world. He was sitting on the edge of the ocean in the warm sand under the heat of a bright sun.

He looked around confused, seeing no one else on the beach.

"Hello?" He called out, standing up and looking at the ocean. It was a beautiful blue, he wondered how it would feel to be suffocated under those magnificent waves.

"You must be George," George turned around upon hearing a voice behind him.

"H-how do you know my name?" George's eyes widened seeing a tall boy with pretty blonde hair, a green (?) hoodie, and a white mask with a poorly drawn smiley face on it. The mask covered only the boy's eyes and nose.

"We're in your dream, silly." The boy smiled and stepped closer to George. "You're a lot shorter than I thought you'd be." He spoke with a smile, his voice was calm and kind.