polaroid angel - dreamnotfound

˖⋆࿐໋₊ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘵𝘸𝘰

"have you brushed your teeth?"
"mhm.."
"washed your face?"
"yeah."

i peck him on the cheek as a reward. like one of those gold stars you'd get on your spelling test paper back in first grade.

"good job baby," i praise.
"you don't have to treat me like i'm a little kid," dream mutters.
"but i'm genuinely proud of you."

he pulls the sheets over our bodies, tiredly snuggling up to me.

"you've been clean for a whole day now," i point out, "that's amazing. you should be proud of yourself too."
"yeah whatever, that's like nothing."
"hey, it's a start at least. it'll take time, okay?"
"i know."

i nuzzle his fluffy hair, bringing him closer to me. he yawns against my bare chest. it's adorable. the optimism in me is coming back, cheering me up significantly during these rough times. dream is making another attempt at getting clean on his own, and for once he seems truly determined. or seemed determined, at least. now that the withdrawals are plaguing him his will has weakened, but he's still staying on track. things are looking bright.

"how are you feelings so far?" i wonder.
"like fucking shit," he grumbles, clearly in a bad mood.
"details?"

"i don't know, everything just fucking hurts and i'm exhausted."
"yet you still keep going. that's really strong of you."

he looks up, shooting me a small, pained smile. purple eyebags are starting to appear on his face and his eyes don't glisten like they used to, yet he's so stunning to me.

"wake me up if it gets worse, okay?" i ask of him, "i don't wanna have to call an ambulance because you're having a seizure or something."

"it's not that bad honey, i promise. stimulant withdrawals don't give you seizures, stop overreacting."
"okay, but still. let me know if you start feeling nauseous or anything."

he hides his face again, leaving featherlight kisses on my skin. it tickles and i can't help but giggle. i know dream loves making me giggle. he's always finding new ways to get a reaction out of me.

"tell me a bedtime story," he suddenly mumbles.
"what?"
"yeah. any story you remember."

i take a moment to think.

"well, i have one but it's not really a happy story."
"i don't care, just tell it," he urges.
"okay.. it won't be like the original though, cause i can only remember parts."
"get on with it already, it'll help me fall asleep."

i chuckle, reaching behind me to turn the lights off.

"are you in a good position?"
"mm.."
"alright," i reply, clearing my throat before i start to retell the old story from my childhood.

"on the last evening of the year, a poor little girl came walking barefoot in the snow. the streets were terribly cold and she had lost her slippers while running across the road. she carried an old apron with packages of matches, holding one of them in her hand. not one person had bought from her that day; she hadn't earned a cent.

shivering with cold and hunger, she trudged through the snow, her feet red and blue. in her long hair snowflakes had fallen, and in all the windows lights were shining. the smell of roast goose filled the streets, for it was new year's eve."

i inhale the scent of dream's sweet shampoo, petting his soft curls before continuing.

"in the corner of two houses she sat down and drew her feet up under her. she was so cold, but didn't dare to return home. her father would surely beat her if she came home without a cent earned.

her hands were stiff with cold. just one little match could heat her up, she thought. she drew one out, and the flame burned bright. like a candle she held her hand over it, but the light seemed strange.

the girl felt as if she was sitting before a large iron stove, the fire in it burning wonderfully. she stretched her feet out to warm them too, but the little flame soon went out, the stove vanishing. only the burnt out match remained in her hand.

she lit another match against the wall behind her, its light casting a transparent veil over the bricks, allowing her to see through it into a room. on a table stood a grand new year's dinner. the roast goose suddenly came alive, jumping down from its plate and waddling towards the girl. then the match went out again."

dream sighs against my chest, letting his body relax. i can feel his every exhale, warm and slow.

"she lit another match. she was now sitting under a beautiful christmas tree, thousands of candles burning on the green branches. colored pictures like the ones in the printshops hung above her, and she tried to reach up for them, but to no avail, for the match had gone out again.

but christmas lights were now mounted higher, they appeared as bright stars in the sky to the girl. one suddenly fell down, forming a line of fire in its path. 'now someone is dying,' she thought, remembering her old grandmother's words. her grandmother was the only person who had ever loved her, and before she died she'd told the little girl that when a star fell, a soul went up to god.

she lit a match yet again, and everything became bright once more. amidst the glow stood the kind old lady, clear and shining.

'grandmother!' the child cried, 'oh, take me with you! i know you will disappear when the match is burned out. you will vanish like the warm stove, the wonderful roast goose and the beautiful big christmas tree!'

she quickly struck the entire bundle of matches, wishing to keep her grandmother with her. they shined with a glow brighter than daylight. the lady took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew high above the earth, in brightness and in joy. up there was no hunger, no cold, and no fear.

but in the corner, leaning against the wall, sat the young girl with red cheeks and a smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last day of the old year. the new year's sun rose upon her small figure. and there the child sat, stiff and cold, but still holding the burnt bundle of matches.

'she wanted to warm herself,' people claimed. no one would ever know what beautiful things she had seen, and how happily she had gone with her old grandmother into the new year."

i kiss dream's forehead to let him know that i've finished the story. his blond locks brush against my lips and my nose. we're laying in complete darkness, with only each other to hold onto. it somehow amplifies the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. his hand is placed just over my heart, so that he can feel it beat. so he knows that i'm here.

"i love you," i remind him.
"i love you too..." he whispers before falling into a deep sleep.