So Real

Charlie had a smile gracing his lips. He couldn't quite remember how he got there. But he was for sure enjoying the company he had at the moment.

He was walking the streets of St.Louis, his hands, every now and then, slightly brushing with the hands of the one person who he loved so much-- Trevor.

It was dark, the only source of light being the faint yellow street lamp and the road looked so damp. Like it had rained not so long ago.

But did it?

He wasn't sure as he couldn't remember a thing. He couldn't tell the time, he couldn't even tell what day it was. But he didn't truly care. Such was the joy he felt.

As long as he was with him, nothing truly mattered. If Trevor sets a trap for him, he would gladly fall for it.

He was glad he was with Trevor. Because it filled his heart with a warm feeling.

His eyes relaxed and a slight smile graced his lips. He tried reaching out to Trevor's hand, but felt nothing. He looked to his side and Trevor wasn't there.

Wait, he was just walking beside him...

Charlie's head jolted up as he gazed forward at the silhoutte on a far end of the road.

Trevor had walked out on him.

He tried calling out to him. But no one listened. His voice was lost in the thick air. The  weather got even darker and the lights started flickering. It was getting harder and harder to see anything. He was being left behind. He tried running forwardbut something changed.

Charlie squinted his eyes for a better view in the foggy atmosphere and a wave of panic took over him.

He was no more in that empty road that smelled of rain. It was not the same ground he stood on that held a really happy, nostalgic aura.

He was in a poorly illuminated room with cob webs all around. It stinked of rotten garbage and Charlie felt strangely suffocated.

How did he even get here?!

He looked for Trevor, but found no trace of him.

The ceiling cracked and the ground rumbled.

The room was starting to fall apart. Charlie looked up to see a cracked and torn ceiling.

He looked around in panic, hoping to find a way to escape this god damn situation he was stuck in.

He tried to think. But his mind was too clouded. He felt his clothes cling to him, restraining him. Bugs crawled under his skin and all he could do was scream. He was in a panic.

He ran to the only door he could find as all of his blood rushed into his head, drumming a rapid and uneven beat in his ears.

He swinged the door open and tried running out of it, but was met with darkness. His breathe had become ragged and he panted like a thirsty dog.

He hesitated to walk out as he saw an abyss of darkness down beneath him. Sweat drops dripped down his brows and he swallowed his dry throat. It felt like sand paper was being rubbed on it. He could only look around with his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

What was happening?!

He could hear ringing voice inside his head. Or... Was it from the outside?

He was so confused. He listened.

The ringing got more clear and louder.

Charlie jolted awake as he gasped heavily for air. His alarm rang in a ruthlessly loud voice, disturbing his ears.

Hell of a dream he had had...

Charlie coughed out as he hung his legs out of his bed and reached out to his bed side table, grabbing a glass of water.

He gulped down the whole glass of water in literal seconds. He still couldn't get his breathing under control, his heart still pounded out of his chest.

He was trying to process the dream he had just had. It was a complete mess, but it felt so real and for some weird reason, it scared the living hell out of him.

"Shit. What the eff was that all about?!" Charlie found himself mumbling, running a hand up and down his face vigourously.

He checked the time. 6:30.

His alarm was still ringing in an unbearably loud voice. It hurt his ear. So he slammed a hand on top of it, muting it abruptly.

Charlie heaved a long, exhausted sigh.

He had school. And he felt awfully sick. Not in a fever or cold way. But he just felt sick and exhausted. For some reason, he didn't want to go to school. Just the thought of school made his stomach drop.

Yes, the teacher's pet, the good guy of the class, felt sick just by thinking of going to school.

He lazily got off his bed and stretched his arms, popping his bones. He groaned loudly, annoyed by the intense sunlight that entered his eyes through the window pane. He had left the curtain flung to the side the last night, as he felt too lazy to do anything but sleep.

He then unwillingly dragged his feet towards the wash room, to clean himself and get ready for school, to begin another rather tiring day of boring lectures and stuff.