The Dreamscape (Liam Payne)

30.<3

A/N A CHAP AFTER THIS IS THE END I'LL POST IT WHEN THIS STORY GETS 1,000 READS AND 110 VOTES :D ENJOY :)

Liam was forced again to watch the garden scene unfold in front of him once again, his dream-self holding Stella as he yelled angrily at her. The scene was painful and the nightmare began just as it did the last time by Liam reaching out for Stella and having her fade into wisps of colored smoke. He then came eye to eye with himself again, their stare heated. Liam’s face was tight; he was ready for a fight.

“You wanted her gone. I just did what you wanted.” The nightmare taunted, “It felt good too.”

Liam knew how he reacted the last time and realized that his nightmare was himself. He was the one who did this and he had to face himself head on. One of the hardest truths you can face is the one you have about yourself.

“I did want it.” Liam came back as the nightmare taunted him, expecting the physical punch instead of the emotional words. “I wanted her gone. Out of my dreams but not out of my life. I want her back.” Liam stepped closer to the nightmare version of himself and stared down those familiar eyes.

Liam’s eyes stared back intently, keeping his temper calm in light of the ripples that tried to push against him. They grew stronger, wanting desperately to pin him to an invisible wall and push against him, making him weak. Liam knew better this time, he was prepared.

“I hurt her. I made this happen and I’m making it right.” He said as he placed one foot in front of the other, pushing back as the ripples turned to waves. Crashing heavily against his chest as the dream-version of Liam backed up, fearing that he couldn’t win. Liam could see his figure running and finally disappearing into the black abyss and soon the waves weakened, deterred by Liam’s persistence.

Liam stood alone again but he was okay with that, he knew that he was further than he was before and one step closer to Stella. He was afraid of the unknown, he wondered what could come next and as he began to wonder the dreamscape began to change. The darkness swirled and before it could change too much Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out his weapon: a dream catcher.

It wasn’t much, a simple thing. A hoop the size of his palm and wrapped in green leather and webbed with thick brown sinew.  Feathers and beads dangled from the hoop, giving it decoration and strength. Once held up, it acted as a beam and sucked in the darkness. Liam inspected the hoop and saw that the nightmare would be sucked into each petal of the lotus flower shaped center, filling the void and looking similar to the way a wand looks when dipped in bubbles right before you blow.

It was then that he knew he couldn’t use this for each of the dark things he encountered; he would run out of petals. This weapon had to be saved for the things that he couldn’t fight, the things too big to face with internal strength alone. There was a secret to nightmares; it was healthy to be scared. It was okay to be scared of things. It’s what made you human. The nightmares hated that people would find this out. They would lose control.

When Liam’s eyes adjusted away from the dream catcher he saw a small door in the distance and began to run to it after tucking the catcher back into his pocket. It was a simple door, normal in size, white in color. The handle was brass and familiar to Liam. He gripped it tightly and twisted it allowing the wood door to squeak open.

He realized quickly why this door looked familiar. It was the door to his least favorite teacher’s classroom. There were rows of chairs and children sitting properly in them, they were all staring at him before a shrill voice of his old teacher, Mrs. Abernathy, screeched out his name and pulled him by his ear to his seat.

“You are late! You have 20 minutes!” She squawked, her old voice cackling as her wrinkled fingers dropped his ear when he was at his seat. Her hand looked like an old road map that had been put through the wash: wrinkled, worn, and full of colored veins. Liam looked up at the old hag before taking the paper. He felt anxious; he could feel the eyes of all the children on him, and Mrs. Abernathy.