CLICK

~Morning~

-Darryls POV-

I look around seeing nothing but darkness. I try to open my mouth but it doesn't obey orders and stays shut. I try moving my arms but they are too stiff to move. Where am I? I continued to think about this until I hear a faint noise.

What was that?

A light comes down from above shining around me. I realize that I'm kneeling on a grey concrete floor. 

I'm in the middle of a spot light. I manage to move my head from left to right trying to see if there is anything there. Within a minute I see something in front of me.

The figure that stands in front of me steps into the light. They have blond hair and only half their face is visible since the other half is covered with a mask that has a familiar smile.

Dream...

What is he doing here... Am I trapped?

He just stands there looking directly at me while smiling. Then I hear it again, except this time the sound isn't as faint as before.

Click

My vision darkens and right before I faint the figure before me vanishes.

~Tuesday Morning, 8:22am~

I feel hands shaking me lightly. I sit up confused until I realized it was Zak. 

Zak - "You were having a nightmare again."

Darryl - "Oh, sorry if I scared you muffin."

Zak - "It's alright, Vincent is making pancakes again."

Darryl - "Same as yesterday?"

Zak - "Yeah. I wonder how he never gets sick of making the same thing, but I'm not complaining. He makes some good pancakes!"

Darryl - "Yeah"

I watch as Zak gets up off from sitting on the edge my bed then heads for the door.

Darryl - "Wait, why are you up so early?"

Zak usually falls asleep at 6am and wakes up around 4 or 5pm.

Zak - "I pulled an all-nighter a day ago and had to sleep so I woke up at 7am."

Darryl - "You should be getting more sleep you muffin head. I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes."

Zak - "Alright"

I watch as Zak leaves the room closing my white bedroom door behind him. I lift the covers off of my chest and sit up stretching. I then go over to my closet grabbing some clothes and changing out of my onesie into my new fresh smelling clothes.

I wore my red boxers, grey sweatpants and a black shirt with my black hoodie over top.

Before I head downstairs I go next to my bed kneeling by it pulling out a black briefcase from underneath like I do every day. I undo the silver latches opening it and pulling out my familiar diary.

About four months back I got thrown into the ocean by my ex-friend Dream. It turns out he's a psycho killer who managed to escape the authorities blaming everything on George. George got shot by an officer and unfortunately died. I woke up in the hospital a few days later from being unconscious after I was in the ocean and saved by Orson Carter whom I thanked later. My leg was busted up but it's better now, except for the scar that reminds me of the horrible thing he did to me! 

I'm still going to therapy from after my encounter with Dream. I keep having awful nightmares with him there. The worst part is that he is still out there and who knows what he's doing! My therapist told me if I wrote everything from that experience up until now it would help. She was definitely right about that. I have been getting better since then but I'm still afraid Dream will come for me.