Chapter 1
I was drifting off to sleep in my bed when I saw horrific images in my head. A boy with shoulder length blonde hair which should have looked fluffy and silky but was instead matted together with blood. His sapphire eyes with fear and pain drowning in them. The boy's body was splattered with blood and disfigured; he was bent at unnatural angles. "Francis!" I tried to scream out terrified but the word was carried away by the silence. I ran trying to get ever closer to him but instead of getting closer he just kept moving further away. Breathing in short gasps I was panicking. My body trembled just as the spoke something which I could not hear and I screamed in mental agony. That was when I woke up.
I sat up quickly. Drenched in sweat and my heart was pounding. I ran out of the room to one further along the corridor of the orphanage and rushed in relieved to Francis lying in his bed still breathing and not bleeding.
There were four boys in the room all lying down in their beds. Two of the boys, Francis and Alfred, sat up in a shot while Matthew slept and Arthur just sat there.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing just barging in here like that?" asked a boy with a strong British accent.
I was stood there with tears in my eyes and Francis replied for me with a growl. "Arthur leave her alone!" His French accent, despite how annoying it got sometimes, was extremely comforting at that moment. He patted his hand on the bed. "Mon cherie what is wrong?" His voice was soft when he spoke and I rushed over to him hugging him tightly to remind myself that he was here, alive.
I could not speak for I was too choked up with tears. He just held me there rubbing my back comforting me. "Was it the nightmares again?" He asked quietly in my ear.
I was still sobbing trying to hold back tears so I just nodded into his chest and everything was silent. We sat there for a while like that. Francis held me and I cried. The other boys decided to fall asleep and leave us in peace.
They were used to the routine. Often I would end up running into their room sobbing and I would sit with Francis as he comforted me.
The nightmares came often, always Francis in trouble. I could never do anything to help and they always kept getting worse. It had started with him crying in pain and all I heard was noise. Then the pictures came and began to get more horrific over time. At least then there was sound as well which meant I knew he was alright to an extent. However when the sound stopped completely I was frozen. It was like he was almost dead. If he could not communicate what was I supposed to do?