AN: Hey guys! I've been doing quite a lot of thinking about this story. I have a feeling like this one in particular is going to be a bit…long because I'm dragging it out quite a bit. I mean, Ludwig hasn't even left the UK yet and I'm on Chapter 9! Coming up to 10, even! Well, I suppose if I include lots of detail and creativity, then I'll make up for the story being so long. On the whole, enjoy the chapter! :)

Chapter 9 - Fresh Air

I gasped and opened my eyes, my heart pumping like never before. I was lying in my own bed at home and thankfully, not in the jungle where I had partly been squeezed to death and partly been poisoned. Never in my life had I been this grateful to be tucked up in bed, ever. Yes, sometimes I had panicking thoughts at school whenever the classrooms and corridors got really loud and during those times, I felt like going to bed and not waking up for a long time, however now, I felt so relieved that I felt like screaming rather than sighing.

It was such a great feeling, lying here in the safest space any teen could possess, although it would've been a lot more comfortable if I wasn't so sweaty from all that fright I imagined myself going through. I slowly rose and sat up in bed, hoping that I would be colder since my body would be exposed to more of my room, but no. That didn't work in the slightest. Desperate to cease this feeling, I took off my pyjama shirt and got out of bed. Meh. It wasn't as successful as I thought it would be, but at least it was better than having no effect on me at all.

All I could hear was my own breathing at this point and if I was very quiet, I thought I could almost hear sweat trickling down my back and legs and dripping onto the carpet, causing a little tapping sound to ripple around my room. However, I didn't feel it happening though, so maybe I was imagining things. I blinked and slowly turned round to squint at my alarm clock.

02:47 am

Oh. Well, I supposed that that was even more reason why I was all befuddled. It was stupid o'clock in the morning and everything was dark. Normally, I would be happy and content in the dark because my sleep wasn't being prevented by light, however now, I was more disorientated than I'd ever felt before. Yes, I was in my room, which I was supposed to know like the back of my hand, but I was still so shaken and so full of adrenaline that I couldn't tell what was to my right, or what was to my left. I didn't know which direction my wardrobe was, or which direction my door was. I didn't even know where my bed was at this point. I began to breathe heavily.

"Oh, please, please, please tell me this isn't still a dream…" I whispered to myself, and hearing my own voice, I realised that this was no dream.

All of a sudden, I saw a flash of light shine to my left, but only a little bit of light. It lit up the middle section of my room, so now I could see where everything was (to an extent). I sighed, relieved that now I felt like I wasn't under some form of threat and that it was just my silly little mind playing tricks on me in the middle of the night. Putting my left hand to my chest, I staggered towards my only bedroom window, pulled back one curtain and peered out of it. Instantly, my eyes felt shocked due to the amount of light shining into them.

That light that had guided me around my room was, in fact, a lamppost that was situated further up the street, but what I was confused about was why did it decide to turn on at ten to three in the morning? It should have turned on hours ago. Perhaps it was faulty. I had no idea, but all I knew was that my street looked a great deal different to how it was during the daytime. The sky was dark and gloomy as far up as I could see and as it drew into the middle, I saw that it was a lighter blue colour. Not as in baby blue or something like that, it was no darker than a blueberry.

The blueberry colour in the sky helped me to make out lots of other things as well, like bungalows and silhouettes of other lampposts, wires from pylons and the roofs of houses. If I was being perfectly honest, it looked more like it was very late at night, not very early in the morning, but for some reason, it made me want to sit outside and let out all of that fear and apprehension I had just experienced and after a while, I would go back to bed completely refreshed.

Swiping my damp hair back, I put on a pair of slippers, grabbed my special fluffy grey blanket, wrapped it around my arm and took it downstairs with me. Despite that I had nobody else in the house with me, I wanted to be as quiet as possible because I didn't want to wake myself up too much since I would be going back to bed in about twenty minutes. I had to say that my house looked much different to how it looked during the day. I had now realised that there were rooms that I thought would never look scary and foreboding in the dark and that was a revelation and a half.

I moved closer and closer to my front door, trying not to make any noise and I didn't know if I was hearing things, but I thought that my breathing and my footsteps were too loud and I soon resulted in walking on tiptoe towards the door. My fingers wrapped themselves around the handle and instantly, I was shocked by how cold it was, but it was when I felt a little tingle in my fingertips when I sighed.

To most people, that sort of sensation would have felt painful, but not for me, not at this moment at least. I had felt so hot and clammy when I had been upstairs that this feeling felt good. I pushed down the handle and heaved the door open. At once, I was almost knocked out by the wind and air brushing against my bare chest. I slowly sat down on the doorstep and wrapped my blanket round my shoulders and as the wind blew, I could hear it singing a sweet lullaby to me that signified that I was all right and that as I slept, no harm would come to me.

It laughed in its soft, calm manner and whipped around me, cooling my skin and stroking my hair as it did. I giggled whilst it dried the sweat off of the nape of my neck and comforted me with its gentle breeze. However, I wasn't fully comfortable; the stone step I was sitting on was very hard and uncomfortable, so I walked over to a little grassy part of my front garden, placed my blanket on the ground, took off my slippers and lay down on it, staring up at the night sky. There were millions and billions of stars staring back at me and blinking and I smiled back up at them.

It was as if those stars were very close friends of mine and they must've known that I had been through an extreme state of mental hardship because they seemed to be calming me down by whispering to me, "Don't worry, Ludwig, you're okay. Nothing bad's going to happen; you're at home, you're in your safe space."

I knew it was foolish of me to do so, but I whispered back to them, "Thank you." and I closed my eyes as the wind blew into my face again, causing me to smile again. I lay there completely relaxed and calm for what seemed like half an hour before I finally stretched my limbs and sat up on my blanket. At first, I felt a little groggy, but when I rubbed my eyes, I soon felt decent enough to stand up. I picked the blanket up off the floor and wrapped it around my neck and chin, a memory suddenly became lodged in my brain. This blanket…it smelled of my mum.

I remembered that I had given it to her as a present for her thirty-fourth birthday. Her last birthday. I had put all my love and thoughtfulness into everything I did for her because if I really thought about it, I knew that it was a dangerous world we lived in and it was unpredictable how long she was going to live for. I was glad that I had given her such a beautiful present on her last birthday and being the loving and helpful son I used to be, I had kept all of her special memories and presents for myself, intending to make sure they lasted for a long time.

Those memories weren't just what were sticking in my mind at the moment. I remembered being very young and always having nightmares about horrible monsters and creatures lurking around my room, threatening to hurt me and I remembered running into Mum's room, crying and trembling. As always, she would comfortingly wipe away my tears and offer me to get into bed with her and have warm cuddles, 'Mama cuddles' as she used to call them and I would often fall asleep by her side.

I grabbed the corners of the blanket tightly and sighed heavily. I still missed Mum very much, but it was getting to the point where I thought there was no point in wishing she was here when I was going through a tough time because it wasn't like the moment I got picked on or became sad, she would appear out of thin air and make everything better again. Agh! I shook my head, trying to shake all of these memories off of my chest; I didn't want to go back to bed sad. I opened my front door and walked back upstairs to my bedroom. I switched on my lamp, sat down on my bed and stared into the mirror, then cringed.

Woah. I did look quite a sight. My face was still shiny with the most scanty amount of sweat on it, my hair looked so dishevelled it could've been mistaken for a rhododendron bush and the bags under my eyes were so huge that they could've been suitcases. Sighing, I grabbed a hairbrush out of my cabinet and began brushing it, and as I did, I noticed that it was all greasy and still a bit sweaty. It seemed that I would have to take a shower before school. I changed out of my pyjamas that had become all damp and creased and put on some clean ones.

When I was done, I looked into the mirror again and smiled. Huh. It now seemed that my appearance was adequate for going to bed, so I drew back the covers, lay down and switched off my lamp. Now I was more than ready to drift off back to sleep and dream very happy and peaceful dreams.