𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣

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written by straighttohellbuddy on tumblr!!


You don't remember when you started dreaming about the boy with the dark hair and dark eyes.

"Well does he have a name?" Whenever you tell anyone about him, this is always their first question, and every time you have to scrunch up your face and shake your head.

In the last dream you'd had, the two of you were on the beach that might have been from a memory, and he was more distinct than the hazy shape of whoever had brought you there. The two of you had been building a sandcastle taller than both of you, taller than any adult you knew; he was talking so much, and you liked hearing him talk. It didn't matter what his name was, you and the boy who kept showing up in your dreams had more fun things to do than worry about names.

Sometimes you catch yourself realising that you're dreaming while they're in progress; usually it's because you can't read the books you find, but sometimes it just clicks. You're dreaming. This isn't real.

"Hey, if this is dream, can I fly?" You ask him, and he looks back at you with surprise. Now that you've noticed, it's hard to ignore; the world is almost familiar, but more of a blur of colour than it ever is in life, like looking out of the window on a road trip. Squinting over his shoulder, you make the haze of colour take shape into a park with a jungle gym.

"This is a dream?" He's blurry at the edges, but still more in focus than anything else in the world. Slowly, he begins to drift, his feet lifting off the ground, and his expression turns panicked. Snatching his hand before he starts to flail, you concentrate as hard as you can to ground him; you hadn't meant to do that to him, even if he is just an imaginary friend.

It doesn't work; he holds your hand so tight you can feel it when you wake up. It had been so real...

You want to apologise, but you don't properly remember the incident the next time you see him. You also don't realise that it's a dream, you're just excited to see your friend and hear him talk about that time he almost flew away. What a story! He insists he can teach you, and in this dream, you're not aware that it's a dream, but it feels perfectly normal to hold his hand as you both wobble your way through the early stages of flight.

---

"You look sad."

"I think I'm meant to grow out of seeing you."

Silence.

"Now?"

"Maybe. Probably one day."

"I think I'm meant to too."

"I don't want you to."

"Me neither."

He takes your hand.

---

It's not a recurring dream as much as he's simply an occasionally recurring character in your dreams. However the occasional dreams don't stop, even though it's been years. Having an imaginary friend is less cute the older you get, so you stop telling people about him so much.

But more and more you find yourself looking forward to those dream, to seeing your friend -

"You should have a name," he tells you a few weeks out from your eleventh birthday. The two of you are traversing through crystal-filled caverns, pitch black if not for the faint glow that emanates from the two of you, naturally, since you'd drunk a potion of fireflies, and this was a dream.

"What do you mean I should have a name?" You laughed, "I have a name, you should know it," still not fully aware that this was a dream, part of you believes he knows it. He's part of you, you will understand when you wake up, of course he should know it, "if anyone should have a name it's you-"

𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴Where stories live. Discover now