Second chapter, whoo! Alrighty, in this one we introduce the second character. It's rather short; thus, I just might update twice tonight. Hooray?

Thanks to my reviewers! Your love keeps me alive.

Disclaimer: NOES is NOT AND NEVER WILL BE mine. On to the story!

Chapter Two

"Dead dog, eh?" Galen asked.

"Yes," I responded. We were on the phone and he could not see me nod. Galen's my best friend. He's just as psychotic as I am.

We met, actually, in a psychologist's office. He noticed me clutching my dream journal and decided to talk to me. "Bad dreams?" I gave him a look that said you don't even know the half of it.

"They aren't always bad...in fact, they're usually fabulous, but..."

"Those few nightmares that slip through the dream catcher really get to ya."

"Yeah," I answered, glowing a little. From then on we have been friends. He has nightmares every night. He often tells me it's a 'disease' he caught from his late cousin, Joey, who died under mysterious circumstances.

"Well, the strain is probably from repression of your emotion. The beast...could be your parents, maybe. As for the dog, it could simply be an image of your fear for dead animals."

"Or?"

"Or something not so simple that we wouldn't see right away." I relaxed further into the hard wooden rocking chair. I was on my porch, and it was about nine fifteen p.m. A citrine candle was dancing beside me, and I watched, mesmerized, the coal-like formations on the thick wick that was burning. My dream journal was on the porch table, the candlelight glinting of its unobtrusive cover. No one could imagine how much I loved that thing. Galen's voice was calming.

"Sage, have you ever seen a dead body? Of a person, I mean."

"Yeah, why?"

"Did it scare you?"

"No."

"Well, I'm wondering why you are only really disturbed by animals."

"It's not just animals, Galen, it's people too, but only when..." I sighed.

"When they're buried."

"Yes." I pictured Galen with the phone in hand, thinking this over, possibly writing it down. I couldn't wait to see him this weekend. He lived far away with his father, but his mother lived here and got weekend privileges. "So how did you sleep last night?" I asked him. He gave a small snort.

"I didn't. Haven't for three days."

"Oh, Galen..."

"Stop, I don't want your sympathies or lectures. I'll sleep tonight." He was such a vigilante. I knew he wasn't kidding about his sleep habits. But I was worried. Sleeping wasn't a joke.

"Can't wait to see you tomorrow," he said. His voice was warm, friendly, loving, and utterly Galen. Feeling creeped up my stomach and into my chest. It'd been happening a lot lately. I'd accepted that I had compassion for him. Just fine with me.

"Neither can I. Bring your—"

"Of course! I wouldn't dream of forgetting it."

"No, in your case you wouldn't dream at all." If he was here, he would have been smiling.

"Look, I'd love to sit and chat about my preferences," he coughed, "But I've got to go; Mom's calling. I'll be at your house by five."

"I'll make sure I'm not sleeping."

"It must be nice, this little world you live in. Bye!" He had never lost his friendly tone.

"Bye." I hung up and went back to simply staring at the night, painfully aware of four graves not far enough away.

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Dumb, yes, I know. But hooray for Galen! I hope you like him, I really, really do.

That's all for today, kiddies!