Jim Stark found himself back at the old mansion, standing at the top of the staircase. He looked downward and saw Plato clinging to the banister, smiling proudly up at him. Plato was looking ever so enchanting with his black hair, adorable grin, and big wet eyes. Jim smiled back and ran down stairs, jumping over the side of the banister and spinning his friend playfully in the air. A smiling Judy was sitting on the floor, watching them fool around.
Jim was feeling practically playful today, so he locked one arm around his friend and started tickling him with the other. Plato yelped and sweet giggles poured from his throat.
"No, Jim! Stahahap!" squealed the dark-haired youth.
Jim found this too adorable and wanted to keep tickling him, but he had compassion and soon let up. Plato took a moment to catch his breath, then he beamed and gave Jim a tight hug.
Smiling, Jim returned the hug but was taken by surprise when he felt Plato's fingers tickling on his sides. Jim exploded with laughter and sank down to his knees.
"I gotcha! I gotcha!" Plato exclaimed happily as he tickled Jim into submission.
"I-I know!" Jim chuckled, when Plato stopped to let him get a breather.
Then Jim and Plato looked over at Judy and started advancing toward her, with wiggling fingers.
"Oh no, you don't!" she said, jumping up and running away. The two boys laughed as they chased after her.
Soon the boys got tired out and laid down on the floor next to each other, panting. When Judy saw them looking exhausted, she came out of her hiding place and joined them on the floor.
"I want to live here forever," Plato said wistfully.
Jim and Judy looked at each other. "I don't see why not," Judy spoke.
"Both of you will stay here with me, right? Forever?"
"Well, what do you think?" Jim reached out to ruffle his friend's hair.
Plato rolled over onto his stomach and rested his chin in his hands. He closed his eyes and a peaceful smile came to his face. Life was now perfect.
Jim woke up in his bed. It was all just a dream – a dream about how things were that night, before the monsters came. A tear rolled down Jim's cheek and hit the pillow. Plato was dead. Life would never really be perfect. Then in a flash of fury, Jim punched his pillow. Thinking about how things could have been was too painful for him. He buried his face in the pillow and sobbed.
The End