A Living Dream
Chapter 4
He's going to vanish. I said he wasn't real and now he'll vanish and I'll be alone locking inside my head until I finally die. Why did I say anything? I should have known better than to think out loud. "Please don't make me die alone." He's moving. He's going to get up and walk away. Or he'll get up and scream and beat me. Or he'll get up and laugh at me. Or he'll…
WOW! "Beautiful" He can blush. He has beautiful eyes and he can blush. I didn't know I was this imaginative. I didn't know I thought he'd blush. Did I? Did I know I knew I wanted him to blush? Did I know I knew that I wanted him to
"Potter" He's mad! Scrambling backwards, I quickly get off the bad and stand with my back against the wall. Keep my head down, they like me to look young and frightened. Keep my hands open so they don't think I'll fight back. Keep my eyes closed so I don't see them smirking and laughing at me. Can't hide in my head, I'm already there. This is a dream but I made it turn into a nightmare. I'm so stupid. I should have been happy just
"Harry?" Um… why is he talking so softly? Why isn't he hurting me yet?
Lifting his head one centimeter at a time, the terrified boy nervously peeked through the falling fringe of his hair. He doesn't look angry, but it could be a trick. But why would I trick myself?
"Harry? Can you hear me? It's me, Tom. I just want to help you back to bed so you don't hurt yourself any more." Hurt myself? How could I hurt myself? Isn't the fact that I'm dying already make hurting myself pointless?
"I can't hurt myself. This is just dream. You can't feel pain in a dream. Where did I learn that? A book, I must have read it somewhere. Wonder why I was reading about"
"Harry"
Why does he keep saying my name? Why hasn't he started calling me a "Freak" yet? Why hasn't he called me "Boy" yet? Is he
He touched me. Standing completely still, not a single muscle daring to so much as twitch, I stared at his long fingers as they gently curled around my arm. His fingers are so warm. And, he has calluses. I always knew he'd have calluses. I bet he did lots of writing. He was head boy. He probably took lots of notes. Bet he was popular too. He would have laughed at me. He would have hated me. Teased me…Dumb freak… Good for nothing…Stupid… Lazy
"HARRY! Come on now. It's just a few steps."
Umm… Why is he being nice? Can't be real. "No one is nice unless they want something. But you're a dream. Can't you be nice without wanting something?" Staring at the taller boy slowly guiding him back towards his bed, he tried to look hopeful that he wouldn't be hurt anymore, but instead resembled a puppy who knew he would be kicked for coming closer but was too desperate for even that momentary acknowledgement to stay away.
"Shhhh… Harry. It's all right. You've already done more for me than I could ever express. Just let me take care of you."
NO!! WHY??
Frozen in place, too scared to move and still too weak to fight, the tired boy just bowed his head in shamed resignation.
"I won't fight you. I guess even I think that I deserve it."