Most of today's movies and media mislead and distort the true nature of dreams: making up false, imaginative interpretations of what we truly see when we sleep. For example, the dream world itself. It's not a product of your subconscious imagination. You see, dreams are a way to travel to the boundary of two worlds - the place where they are weaved together. One is a world that is our own, and another which we are yet to know of.

In the odd occasion, however, it can also connect people from the same world; usually these people don't know each other outside the dream. That's exactly the case on how I met my best friend Pewds, back when we were little.

He sat beside me, joking and laughing with such innocent joy. We were on an area in the forest where the trees were few, giving us a perfect view of the spectrum of colors in the sky above us. The tall trees sparkled with their large colorful leaves shading our cheeks that puffed with laughter and youth.

I snapped myself out of my daze and glanced at him to check why he grew silent. I was surprised to find uncertainty in his now troubled light blue gaze that stared at me intently. "What's wrong, friend?"

He sighed, leaning back to lie down and watch the oddly-shaped clouds float towards the other end of the rainbow sky. "You just had that look in your eyes and, well... it reminded me of something that has been bothering me for a while."

"What is it?" I faced him completely, sensing that something was definitely wrong. Pewdie was a cheerful person; it was rare for him to be bothered this much.

"I was thinking..." he began, continously tracing the sky with his eyes. "What are we going to do when we grow up?" My eyes widened as I realized that this was bothering him, too. The thought had crossed my mind too but I always shrugged it off, not wanting to worry about the future too much. "What's going to happen? Will we really forget each other, everything we've been through?" he grieved, the stress radiating from his voice.

I couldn't stand seeing him like this. "Come here, you..." I pulled him up, beckoning for him to sit beside me. He sat up, only to let his head fall sidewards and towards my lap, adjusting to make himself comfortable on the makeshift pillow. I almost giggled as my lap was tickled by the shifting pressure, smiling at how adorable he was being. "How about this... Let's promise that when the time comes and we can't see each other in these dreams anymore, we'll find each other in the real world." I suggested, smiling softly at him as I played with blonde locks. "Promise?

Silence lingered for a moment and our gazes locked for what felt like forever. I found myself lost in the world beyond his sky blue orbs that in turn marvelled in my own pair of midnight hues. The lighter blue narrowed as he grinned widely and finally said, "Promise."

As we looked towards the sky, my fingers now away from his ruffled locks and entwined with his own digits, I pondered over the warm feeling soaring in my chest. What could it be? I thought. What is this uncontrollable happiness bubbling from within me? I was too young back then to understand.

But the old woman who interrupted our little moment knew. She hated us for it, in fact. Whenever she caught us in that forest, our favorite place, she would run towards us, even with her injured leg that made her walk weirdly, waving her cane towards us and cursing and spitting insults at us until she finally lost us in the chase. She said that "love mustn't bloom in the dream world, and most definitely not between two of the same gender." In retrospect, maybe she just didn't want to see people fall in love, knowing it would all eventually fall apart when they stop dreaming and "grow up".Then again, that wouldn't make her homophobia any reasonable.

Despite this, we didn't laugh and jump in joy nor sigh in relief when the news arrived that she had passed away of old age. Maybe we were too innocent of her hate, or too pure-hearted to hold grudges.

When we arrived to her house with the intention of offering flowers to her grave and wishing her a peaceful rest, neither Pewds nor I was expecting to be yelled at then kicked out by her hateful grandson - that one kid who watched us from afar and gave us that cold stare when we invited him to come play with us - Marcus.

He was devastated when the old woman, his only companion, passed away. Pewds and I tried to comfort him, but he pushed everyone, especially us two, away. Eventually, we just gave up and bid goodbye to what once was our forest since it was near his house.

When he recovered from the loss, he didn't apologize nor return to his usual, loner self. He chased us around, just as his grandmother used to, except he held a knife and was more hysterical, screaming and laughing as he ran ten times as fast as the weird walking of his late grandma.

You might be thinking, "What's the point? It's just a dream, you can't die..." Well that's one more thing the movies got wrong: if you die in a dream, you die in real life.

Marcus was at our tail even when we became teenagers. And by this time, Pewds and I knew a lot more about the world and we finally understood the weird tingling feeling in our chests as our hearts beat in sync. We realized we were in love, and cheesy as it sounds - it all felt so perfect, as if we were made for each other.

I still find myself blushing when I remember our first kiss. How natural it felt when we leaned towards each other, the way our love overflowed when our lips touched for the first time and with reddened cheeks, we fell to the ground but I could barely feel the impact, the numbing passion overpowering it as Pewds lay on top of me - then I felt a warm, wet muscle graze my lips ever so slightly...

Now that I think about it, we've never really said "I love you" throughout our relationship. Maybe because it was obvious we felt the same, or maybe our love was different, determined by fate ever since we met when were little and there was no need to declare it, because deep in our hearts, we knew it was there and always will be.

But Marcus was intent on breaking it, destroying it, shattering our world to pieces. And there was no way we would allow him to.

"Come out, come out wherever you are~" the black-haired male sang, clasping the knife in his fisted right hand. I could see his twisted smile through the small peephole wherein Pewds and I hid behind a door.

"We have to wake up Cry." the Swede whispered, tiptoeing to look for something to use in the room. Finding a kitchen knife, he hands it over to me. "You first, bro."

"No, no, no. I have to make sure you get away safely." I protested, pushing it back towards him. "D-Don't worry, it'll just be a second or two of pain. I'll-I'll be here." I tried to disguise my fear as looking out for him, but failed miserably.

"But I can't just-" He stopped his sentence midway - or he was forced to stop, rather - as his face scrunched in pain. "C-Cry..."

I didn't do it... It just slipped from my hand, I didn't stab him... No... "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Pewds..." I repeated my apology like a mantra, catching him in my arms as his body fell limp and blood trickled down his arm. The knife fell from my hands, clattering to the floor with a loud high-pitched noise. I kissed his forehead, as if in compensation. "I'll be following you, don't- don't worry about it, Pewds."

This was one of the hardest things to do in a dream: to wake up. A simple pinch doesn't do anything, yet at the same time if you get killed, you die for real. To wake up, the pain has to be intolerable, but not fatal. Either that, or forces outside the dream world will wake you up. The beep of an alarm clock, the gentle poking of your little brother waking you up for school... But if you're in trouble in the dream, do you think external forces will wake you up in the middle of a quiet night?

As tears ran down my cheeks, I felt the air take over the space that once was Pewds. I sniffed the tears away, turning around, only to meet Marcus' gaze, his twisted grin widening even more as if that was possible.

"Found you~"

I ducked and took the shining metal off the floor and clasped it with a shaky fist, glaring at him, and the madman raised a brow in challenge, thinking I was going to fight back and being momentarily shocked when I clenched my eyes and drew a bloody line from my elbow down to my wrist. The pain was intolerable, alright.

As my consciousness finally slipped away, faintly I heard Marcus groan in frustration at being so close to catching us yet failing again. My vision blurred and refocused to the cream white ceiling of my room. I sigh in relief, nervously awaiting the next night to come and knowing next time, he would only be an inch behind our tails. I dreaded it, but the thought of him catching Pewdie added to my anxiety.

And when the night surrounded me, I had no choice but to dream.

The dream world was nothing like I've seen before. I was used to the everchanging scenery, but this... This was a nightmare. Hellish vermillion lights glowed and scattered about the rough, rocky ground. They would have been beautiful, if not for the fact that when I took a closer look, I realized they were glowing red eyes that followed me with their gaze. They made me nauseous so I kept my distance, the pitch black surrounding me the only thing I could see while I eyed the trail of red lights from afar so as to not lose my way. Twisted, wide grins of malice stared down at me and I could feel their glares burning through my back, vanishing with loud sadistic laughter when I turned around.

"Pewds?" I called out, but my own voice only bounced back the walls I couldn't see. "Pewds!" I tried once more, louder. Again, only the echoes of my voice filled the silence which now started to make me nervous.

I decided to look around, - not that I had a choice not to, anyway - following the trail of nauseous red from afar and not really knowing what to expect when I reach the end. The harsh, earsplitting voices still wouldn't stop but I tried to ignore them as I wandered aimlessly. Better than nothing, I guess. I'd rather look around for Pewdie, to whom my worry still hasn't ceased, than sit here and do nothing while he could be in danger in this nightmare.

"Pewds!" I shouted. For a moment, I wondered if I was really looking for him because he might have been in danger or because I was seeking the comfort of his arms, longing to hear his voice again.

Maybe it was both.

"Well, well, well... Look who's finally arrived."

My head snapped up, anger instantly igniting as soon as I realized whose voice it belonged to. "Where is he?!" I growled demandingly, leaping towards him. The bastard only smirked wider when my anger melted like ice as the figure behind him came to view.

"Pewds..." I whispered shakily, calling his name for the hundredth time since I arrived here. Marcus extended a hand between us, that fucking cocky smirk still present as he pushed the heavily-bruised, chained blonde away from me. "You... What did you do to him?!"

"It's not what I did that will finally ruin you two, Cry." He takes something out from his pocket. Some sort of vial..? "It's what I'm about to do."

Shadowed, ghostly hands crept around my limbs and gripped me tightly before I could react. I struggled desperately, reaching out a hand towards my beloved. He did the same, my own desperation reflected in his empty, sapphire eyes.

No... This isn't the end. I kicked and squirmed, tried to get free, groaning and yelling in frustration. Pewdie seemed to be doing the same with his chains which probably bruised his wrists, and sadness washed over me as I saw the tears prickle beneath his eyes.

I wanted to hug him and comfort him, tell him to stop, it's okay now, don't cry, just wake up, but even he knew it wasn't okay. We either die here together, or the thin chance of us waking up but being traumatized to ever dream again. This would be our final goodbye. I only wished it was in a happier atmosphere. He looked like he was at the brink of giving up, sweat and tears streaming down his face that cringed in pain and sadness and all the negative feelings of the world.

Meanwhile, the perpetrator of our demise was laughing madly, drowning in his victory and the state he'd driven us to: his cruel masterpiece. I wanted to tear his flesh for making my Pewdie suffer and laugh at the sweet revenge, but I couldn't. I was too weak.

I felt my consciousness and willpower slip from my grasp and all I saw was my beloved blonde struggling, never giving up while I already had. He noticed the halt in my struggle and the last I saw were empty and regretful blue eyes.

"You're strong, love. But it's time to let go."