The morning went by as usual. I woke up, got something to eat, took a shower, got dressed, did my hair, and put on a light layer of makeup before heading out. I had three classes to attend today. When I first got up, I had decided that I'd put aside everything that's been going on and simply focus on real life. But wasn't that real life, too? I thought to myself, anxiety coursing through me.

Everything felt so real when I was in that dream world. Does that make it reality, or just a super realistic dream? How could I know for sure? I mean, sure, the voice in my head says it's real. But… what if I'm crazy and I just don't know it? Then again, did I really want to risk it being real and possibly get myself killed? I had already been attacked once in that dream world. I didn't want to die… not permanently.

The anxiety remained as I left my little apartment and started heading towards school. It was about a twenty minute walk to the campus grounds, and then another fifteen minutes to get to the buildings where my classes actually took place. By now, I was used to walking all over the place, but when I had first moved out here, my legs hated me for weeks.

The late morning air was brisk and the sky was cloudy. I hadn't even realized how cold it was, and conveniently forgot to grab a jacket. As I shivered, I wondered what day it was. I wasn't even keeping track of the days anymore. It felt like I never slept, so the days just melted together. I wondered how I was able to still function. Did my body actually rest at night? From how sore I still was, I wasn't sure. I felt rested… sort of.

My mind wandered as I walked. I was honestly surprised that I didn't run into anything on my way. Once I get lost in my thoughts, I don't really notice anything else. My mind jumped from place to place, worrying about the dreams, worrying about the voice, wondering about Sans, and worrying about school. It seemed these strange dreams were taking over my life.

I had eventually arrived at my destination, and attended class as usual. My class list was pretty… all-over the place, seeing as I was a freshman with an undecided major. In light of that, I had taken as many required classes as I could. The student advisor also had me placed in a couple different elective classes to try and get a taste of what I wanted to major in. I was only nineteen years old. I didn't even want to think about growing up, let alone what I want to do for the rest of my life.

The anxiety about my dreams then mixed with anxiety about my future, causing… a big heap of anxiety. My heart raced as negative thoughts kept coursing through my head. I sat in class and quietly hid my panic attack, absent-mindedly listening to the professor lecture about history. The paper I was taking notes on quickly turned into a scribbled mess as I tried to distract myself from my thoughts.

I weakly attempted to bottle up my feelings, but more negative thoughts kept popping up about different subjects. Before I knew it, I was awkwardly sitting in class, furiously doodling in my notebook and trying to hold back tears. No one in the class seemed to notice or care, which felt relieving yet entrapping. I didn't have to burden anyone with my weird feelings, but yet I was stuck going through it on my own.

I'm here.

I bit my lip hard and lifted my head up to look around. Was that just the voice in my head again? There was an empty seat right next to me, and the other students seemed to be focused on the professor. Of course it was the voice in my head. No one was really paying any attention to me. I stared down at my battlefield of unrecognizable scribbles and tried to compose myself.

"Look again," someone whispered to me. I jumped, startled, and looked over to the… wait, wasn't that desk empty? Sitting in the desk I saw a smirking young man, dressed in a green-and-yellow striped shirt, with brown pants and brown leather shoes. His eyes had a mischievous look to them and he leaned over the arm of the desk towards me. I felt like I recognized him from somewhere, but I had no idea who he was.

I'm sure I looked like an idiot staring at this kid with wide, shocked eyes, as the professor then called me out and asked, "Is everything alright back there?" I blushed in embarrassment and looked away, nodding my head.

"Y-yes," I managed to stutter out. Thankfully, the professor looked away and continued teaching the lesson. I heard a teasing chuckle come from the boy. I went back to scribbling in my notebook, shrinking in my chair as I heard the other students snickering. Were they laughing at me? I wondered anxiously.

"Who else would they be laughing at?" the boy next to me asked. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath to calm my nerves before looking at him. He was still leaning over the desk, smirking teasingly at me.

"Who are you?" I quietly whispered. "And did you just read my mind?" He laughed and leaned back in his chair, causing the front legs to hover in the air as he put his feet up on the desk. I glanced at the professor nervously. Wasn't he worried about getting called out?

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked as he turned his gaze to the professor as well. "Don't worry about him. No one can see me except you."

My eyes lit up with realization. "You… the voice?" I looked down at my notebook. There was no way... first a voice, and now I'm hallucinating? Why was this happening all of a sudden? Maybe I need to ask my mother about the mental health history of my family… I didn't recall any immediate family suffering from any mental disorders. I would've known about it by now… right?

"Maybe your family doesn't care to tell you the important things. Ever think about that?" the boy said, his eyes returning to me. I frowned at his words. No, my family and I were on pretty good terms. I was a pretty good kid when I was growing up, and had never really been a problem child. "They probably don't think you're mature enough. I mean, look at you. You were practically in tears over a dream about a video game."

"It wasn't like that!" I defended. The heads of all the other students turned to look at me. Some of them snickered. I instantly blushed and covered my mouth. Shit! The professor looked at me with a concerned frown.

"Do you need to step out for the day? You seem very distracted," he said.

"What he really meant was, 'You're disrupting the class! Get out of here!'" the boy said. I gathered all of my stuff and shoved it into my bag. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. The other students watched as I quickly got up and left the classroom, wiping the tears away from my eyes and hoping no one would notice. I'm so stupid. I'm such an idiot. I enveloped myself in self-destructive thoughts as I hurried out of the building and back towards my apartment.

~

I slammed the door to my apartment loudly, not caring that it was disruptive. I dropped all of my stuff and jumped onto my bed, hugging the pillow to my face and screaming out all of my frustrations. I let myself cry it out. I felt like shit right now, and the only way I could feel better was to cry it all out. My next class wasn't for another two hours, if I would even feel emotionally prepared by then.

"You're such a crybaby, you know that?" I felt a weight on the bed next to me. I moved the pillow from my eyes and glared at the boy. Why did he antagonize me like that? Why is he still antagonizing me? He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't antagonizing you. I was telling you the truth."

"Stop reading my mind, dammit!" I cried out at him.

"I'm not reading your mind. I'm part of you," he said, grinning darkly at me. "You can't escape me. Look, I'm basically your only friend now, you got that? So you'd best start treating me with a little more respect."

"You're not my friend. You're no where near 'friend' material," I spat at him. He frowned at me.

"I'm only telling you the truth. The truth hurts, but isn't it better than living a lie?" he asked, glancing at his fingernails absent-mindedly. I rolled over so I wouldn't have to look at him. He had a point, whether I liked it or not. But how could I know if what he was saying was really the truth? "You just have to trust me."

"Yeah, right!" I scoffed. I heard him sigh.

"That's basically saying you can't trust yourself. I'm part of you, part of your mind, part of your consciousness."

"Then why are you so much different from me? And why are you a boy?"

"Gender isn't relative to the situation."

"You didn't answer my first question."

"It's a long story."

"That's not a good answer!"

He sighed again, this time in annoyance. "You're annoying, you know that? Look, you should be thankful that you have me. No other human will ever have the guts to tell you the truth and nothing but the truth like I do. I'm the only friend you need. Just trust me, okay?"

I frowned and stared at the wall. "What makes you so different from everyone else?" I quietly asked him.

"I've lived in this world and the next. I've experienced things you could only dream of…. literally," he paused to chuckle, "So doesn't that make me a little more knowledgeable in this situation?" I could feel him looking at me with that mischievous glint in his eyes. "It's kill or be killed. People only look after themselves in this world."

I thought over everything he's said. People only look after themselves… then why is he pushing so hard to be my friend? Isn't that hypocritical? I suppose humans are social creatures. Everyone needs at least one friend… even the bad guys. There is no person that is truly heartless, right? Even Adolf Hitler had someone he cared about.

It was quiet for awhile. I was honestly surprised that the boy didn't interrupt me at all. Eventually, however, I ended up rolling back over to face him. He was sitting on the bed, picking at his nails. I stared at him for awhile. Where did I recognize him from? I racked my brain to try and remember, but my head was so jumbled up from all the craziness. Eventually, I gave up.

"So… what's your name?" I asked. He turned and grinned at me.

"My name is Chara."