A Dream's Bite

3

       He was falling.

       His hand rested on the cliff, but no matter how much he tried to pull himself up, he never had the strength. His sweaty hands were beginning to slip away as dawn's first light glew. The light spilled across the land until it reached his hand. The light burned, he cried out in shock and then, he was falling.

       He made no effort to stop the fall, maybe then he'd be at peace. His body was swallowed by water, he didn't mind the pain when his scorched hand touched the salty water. His heavy clothes dragged him down, as his last bubbles of air left his lips.

       Something moved in the corner of his eyes in the dark murky water, the figure was being dragged down too. Something about the figure seemed so similar.

       George.

       He made an effort to swim to George's faint figure, though no matter how make strength he put in, George was drifting away farther. Though he didn't stop despite his lungs and limbs screaming at him. Soon George rested in his arms.

       The scene shifted and now he was on a sandy surface and waves rolled by, not reaching him. George was still curled up in his arms. George's eyes fluttered open and George's soft brown gaze, met his. Nothing else mattered, he forgot about the scenery, the cold breeze, and his heavy wet clothes. George was all that mattered.

       "Clay?" George said weakly.

       "I'm here," He smiled.

       George shifted in Clay's arms and sat up a bit. "Ow," George said and frowned.

       "What's wrong-" Clay started but a lovely smell filled his nose. "George," Clay said weakly and pulled the boy in a hug. "Are, are you bleeding?"

       George tensed at the embrace but then relaxed into the hug and it melted Clay's heart.

       "It's just a small cut," George mumbled.

       "George," Clay said seriously, "I want you to run."

       "Clay?" George asked.

       "Run." Clay said and shoved George out of his grip. George looked confused but began to run. The taller boy shook his head and put his hands on his face. Though the smell of blood never left. Clay was losing control and suddenly he found himself running towards George. He was gaining quickly and he couldn't stop. Almost like he was in a trance.

       George looked behind him and terror crossed his eyes as Clay caught up.

       Then Clay woke up.

       Woke up.

       Clay's hands gripped at his hair and his heart was pounding in his chest. He was visibly shaking, the imagine of George's terrified face burned through his mind, taunting and scarring him.

       Sweat trickled down him and the sheets were sticky on his skin. He panted heavily and looked down at his hands. His eyes flickered over to the glow of the alarm clock.

       4:54

       Very carefully on shaky feet, he slid his legs out of bed and walked over to the window. Dawn's first lights had yet to come. The landscape around the house was dark and quiet.

       Unable to fall back asleep he padded silently down the stairs to the kitchen to eat something. He couldn't afford to lose control.

       Crow was sitting under the dim kitchen light on the island. The soft glow enchanted her features. Her face turned slightly towards Clay like she heard him.