Uh, hi guys, this is actually and experiment to make my English better, of course, I like writing, but I'm not very good at it, not even in my language, so it'd me amazing if you tell me if I make a mistake in grammar or other thing.
Yeah, this story is inspired on a song...
== Dirk: breathe.
Just breathe, don't worry about anything else in this fucking second. Just breathe.
No, you can't. You can't breathe. You need air right now. NOW. HELP PLEASE!
Stop!
You can handle this. You are Dirk Strider, fuck, you can handle anything.
But no this... It's too hard. It makes no sense.
You look up to the window, between the closed curtains you can see the sun trying to arise. God, this cannot be happening. It's not possible. You move your eyes along the room, trying to convince yourself that this is not real.
But the bloodstains in the wall don't really help you.
Then, you find your reflection in the mirror. There's blood in your face.
No, no, no, nope, nonononono this is definitely no happening, this is a dream.
It's not you blood. It's his blood.
It's not a dream. It's a nightmare.
The blood bites the skin in your face, in your hands, in your arms. It looks so out of place. Are you crying? No, you are not. Striders don't cry. But, shit, you are fucking crying.
Oh god, don't let this be real. Please, please, please, please, please, please.
You barely remember what happened. Jake was there, smiling as always, talking about another shitty movie that he saw with John yesterday. Everything was fine. Why it turned into this?
You force yourself to look at Jake. His head is resting on your thighs; he used to fell asleep like this. He might be sleeping right now. Yes, he's asleep.
"Jake, wake up, please"
You take his hand, it's cold as fuck.