Italics = Dream

Italics w/ Underline = What happened in real life, but is included in the dream

The boy tore the entire room apart, sweating, on the verge of falling apart. The mattress was torn apart. The dresser and most of it's drawers were out. The table was overturned, everything was just a mess. The boy shook and a sob came from within and exploded out of his mouth. He violently sat to the floor (despite the pain that was inflicted upon his butt ten minutes ago) and started crawling and looking through every crevice for any sign of it at all. AT ALL. He could hardly crawl because his hands were so unsteady and sweaty.

Then he saw it. The plastic bag was only 2 feet away from him. It scrambled to get it, but the floor fell from under him. He groped for something, but he kept falling. He landed on the floor, but not hard. All lights flicked on and he was in a room full of mirrors. He looked away but he couldn't escape his reflection. He had to face himself. He was hollow, literately. His eyes and cheeks were sunken in. His shirt clung to ribs and hung where the absence of his stomach was. It was amazing he could keep himself up. His hands were shaking and his cheeks were tear-streaked and his skin was paler than ever.

He continued walking, trying to find a way out. He touched a mirror to see if it would give away, but instead of his reflection, his mother walked forward. He backed up and she stepped out. Every time he tried to get away she just came closer. More people came out of the mirror, his mother's evil boyfriend/supplier, his dead girlfriend, every kid from school who teased him, his mother's other boyfriend's who had rapist tendencies. He was now running backwards and they ran at the same speed. More and more people came from the mirror. He bumped into something and fell forward. He turned to face whatever he bumped into.

It was Carlos, looking unsteady. The boy stood up and looked into Carlos eyes. He looked straight past him, dazed.

"Carlos?" the boy asked. Everyone started backing back up into the mirror again. He then realized he was running for a while but went nowhere. Carlos looked straight into his eyes. It was like a knife cutting through his soul. The shorter boy swiveled around and started for the mirror. The boy leaped from the floor and grabbed his arm. Carlos turn to look at him, took a few steps back and put one foot back into the mirror.

"Carlos! I know what I said but please don't go!" he panted. Carlos squinted at him.

"If you want me you're going to have to face them." he said pointing to the mirror. He voice sounded empty, automated, like he had no reason to live. The boy recognized this voice and he knew he caused it.

"I... i don't care. Just don't go please?" he said, chocked up. Carlos sighed and checked a watch that wasn't on his wrist before.

"You're too late." he said, and went into the mirror with lighting speed. The lights started going off one by one. The boy let go of the mirror and sat down in the sheer darkness.

[Page Break]

I woke up in my bed, panting and the sheets on the floor. I looked at the clock. It was 1 in the morning. I remember being dragged from the tub awkwardly by James and Kendall, soaking wet and in shock from sitting in a cold shower for 2 hours. It was more like an out of body experience. The rest of the day is fuzzy. I think I slept the rest of the day. The bed was of course wet and I was super itchy, my pajamas sticking to me and whatnot.

I stood up from the bed, not knowing what to do but not wanting to dwell on my dream, because I was afraid history would repeat itself and I didn't want to think about Carlos. I started occupying myself by setting out clothes for myself, but I was done within 2 minutes. I sat on the floor, wringing my hands in the dim lamp light. It was more like digging my nails into my skin. I wanted to kill myself for even considering getting back on. Hadn't I learned anything? I had only been on it for two weeks and I was going crazy. I literately had to lock myself in a room to keep myself from going back. It was disgusting, I don't how my mother did it... excuse me, DOES it.

It effectively erased the bad components of my life, for about 2 hours. Then it was like the world was crashing down on my head, and I desperately needed more. It wasn't pretty. Not at all. I got up from the floor and went into the kitchen. I flicked on the light, and of course Carlos was there, eating in the dark. I swallowed a scream.

"Wha- what are you doing here?" I said in a whisper.

"I was hungry. Want half?" he asked, thrusting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at me. I grabbed the half.

"Thanks." I said tiredly and plopped myself next to him. I didn't care that I was supposed to be avoiding him. I was trying to not think of him and it was ruining the hell out of me. Just for a couple of minutes, could I soothe my pain?

"What's up?" he asked, mouth full. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't remember waking up. Did I wake up?" I lied, to avoid Carlos asking questions about my rudeness in the bathtub, which I knew he would. He bit his lip to avoid smiling.

"Mm. You like imploded in the shower though. So that's probably why you don't remember anything." he mumbled.

"I imploded? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You were like in the shower for like two hours and the water was ice cold. Gustavo made us record without you, by the way. So... your not in a song." he updated me. I shrugged. We all sounded the same anyway. I bit into the sandwich. I looked at Carlos. He looked so peaceful and calm and happy in the dim light of the kitchen. My throat closed up at the same time the sadness welled up in my throat. I was fighting to swallow the food, but I ending up crying anyway. It wasn't SOBBING. Tears just starting rolling down my face and the food finally went down. I continued to eat while crying silently.

"Oh wait, no, I'm sure Gustavo can put you in!" Carlos said, noticing my tears. I chuckled and rested my head on his shoulders. I didn't want to ruin this moment by telling the truth and sparing the feelings of the poor child next to me. I wanted to be relieved of my pain, no matter who it hurt. So I looked up at him. He looked at me. I kissed him. He kissed me back. I looked at him. He looked at me with such love and warmth and caring, it made my soul flip. I felt so bad right then. I felt like I was cheating him out of what he deserved. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't want to. I averted my eyes toward the floor and more tears dropped on the floor. I mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" Carlos asked. I sighed shakily, which had been happening a lot this week.

"The text, I tried to show you this morning..." I was cut off.

"You said you don't remember anything from today." he said sharply, squinting at me. I opened my mouth in protest, but Carlos slapped his hand over it.

"I get it now. You were trying to show me a text from Camille, and it reminded you of her, which made you think of how you were cheating on her with me, which made you freak out, and now you want to say that we have to like not continue this or whatever." he said simply. I opened my mouth a few times like a fish, speechless.

"Am I right?" he asked again. I coughed.

"Uh, yeah. I guess. Whoa." was all I could say. He shrugged.

"It's cool." he said, drumming his hands on a table. Since we were little, that's what he always did if he was lying. I raised my eyebrow.

"I mean, I get it." he said again, now leaning his elbows against his hands on his legs. He was blinking furiously. I felt so bad I wanted to melt into the floor.

"I'm dumping Camille." I blurted out. I didn't know if my decision was stupid or not. I just knew I couldn't go through with it. Carlos looked at me, eyes wide open.

"Wait, really?" I nodded, not sure of what to do. He grinned in his Carlos-y way, and glomped me. He then procedded to back up.

"Why the hell are you wet?" he asked.

I sat there, swaying, but not really feeling anything. I didn't know what to do. And quite honestly, I would rather be depressed than confused.