warmth [dreamnotfound] | ✓

chapter four. feel good.

8:00 AM.

George watched out the window as a "Welcome to Illinois!" sign whizzed past, smiling to himself. Dream was fast asleep in the backseat and had been for the last 30 minutes, leaving him very much alone. It was fine though; it gave him time to think. Plus, he could play his music without the other boy arguing with him.

The song on the radio seemed to flow through the vehicle as he drove, rubbing his eyes. He didn't like the way it felt and moved to do it again, frowning slightly. George wanted to enjoy the music, to take in the scenery or just appreciate Dream's absence, but his focus was everywhere else.

The shoelaces on his sneaker thudded against the side of his foot every time he moved it. The leather of the steering wheel moved under the pads of his fingers, making him squirm slightly. His eyes focused on the road and he found himself reaching for his own pair of sunglasses, unable to find them. The change in his pocket clattered when he shifted his body, a bit too loud for his liking.

Noticing every little detail wasn't exactly favorable for George. He would much rather be trapped in the haze that had developed around him for the last few years of his life.

They were nearing Chicago now and he knew they would hit trouble the second he would have to get off the highway. George didn't have his license. And he was colorblind. One glance backward and he knew he couldn't wake Dream though. The boy looked so peaceful and innocent despite his eyes still being covered by his white sunglasses. George stopped beside a few other cars at the first traffic light, which he assumed was red.

When the cars in front of him started to move, he followed. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice either way as he was surrounded on all sides. George shivered slightly at the realization. He didn't like being this close to this many people for so long.

It would almost be faster to get out of the car and walk. The traffic crept ahead at a snail's pace and he turned up the music a bit louder to tune out the sound of horn honking behind him, rolling up his window and groaning to himself. He wondered why they didn't go around the city.

He took a risk and turned down a side street in an attempt to get away from the main traffic hub, finding himself in the center of a road with skyscrapers on either side, closing in and suffocating him.

George sat in standstill traffic once again with no plans of moving any time soon. Everyone was on their way to jobs in the city, something he had never had. He pulled out his phone to take a picture of the skyscrapers, pressing it a few times so they didn't show up as shadows blocked out by the blinding sun.

The song transitioned to a louder one with a heavy bassline that shook the whole car and he quickly fumbled to turn down the radio before it woke Dream.

He turned a corner away from the busy street and passed a school, complete with a playground full of children. George watched them with tired eyes, frowning to himself and thinking about things that hadn't happened in a long time.

When George wasn't sober, he never had to worry about the memories. They could try to resurface in the fog of his brain, but never do it successfully and for that, he was forever thankful. It meant he never had to relive all the pain and torment of his youth ever again, and yeah that was the main reason he used them so frequently, but it was all useless in times like these: The rare occasions where George could be considered sober.

Everything was a million times worse when he was sober. It was all for nothing. He could spend months happy and high and away from the darkest corners of his mind, but it would all be useless if he spent more than a few minutes without his security blanket. It was dumb, he knew that, but he couldn't face the real world. Not yet. Not for a long time.