1.1 in my dreams

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houston, tx
2008

Awsten Knight always has the same set of dreams, over and over.

Occasionally, they're strange, haunting nightmares, that leave him jolting awake in the middle of the night— but other times, they're not really dreams at all.

They're more like repeats of memories. More often than not, taken from an oddly specific selection of moments from his last summer Church Camp, when he was in 8th grade.

Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago; yet, three years on, he can still remember most details like it was yesterday.

Awsten met a girl that summer.

He didn't recognise her at all. She hadn't been to camp before, nor had she been to their Youth Group at any point prior.

This suspicion was only confirmed when he heard her speak; she had a thick English accent, and spoke a little too fast for most of the other Southern American kids to understand at the time.

From the first day they met, she left an impression on Awsten, and it wasn't just because of the blue streaks in her hair, standing out against the natural, dark brown covering the rest of her head; she was loud, bubbly, and straight to the point, even at just thirteen years old.

She spoke to everyone— including Awsten, which was a nice change from how the high schoolers were already treating him on day one.

"I like your hair," she'd told him with a grin.

"Oh, thanks," he smiled. "My mom thinks it's too long," Awsten shrugged. "I like your hair, too. Blue is my favourite colour."

"Really? Mine too!"

Awsten remembers the way she twisted her hair around her finger when there was a brief silence.

"My name's Awsten," he told her first. "I like to spell it different to the normal way, though," he added.

"Oh, really?" She raised an eyebrow. "How'd you spell it?"

"A-w-s-t-e-n," he spelt it out for her.

"That's so cool!" She complimented, with a grin. "I don't really like my name."

"What is your name?" Awsten asked.

"Elizabeth," she grimaced. "Sometimes my dad calls me Lizzie, but I don't really like that either. I can't think of a cool enough nickname," she pouted.

Awsten paused, thinking for a moment, before speaking up. "How about Ellie?" He suggested. "Can I call you Ellie?"

"Ellie," she repeated, with a soft smile. "Yeah, I like that."

"Okay, Ellie," he said it again, liking the way she smiled.

It was getting late on their first evening of camp when they came across each other again.

Awsten was sat by the water, trying to buy himself some time before he inevitably had to go to bed, where he'd be sharing a space in the beach house with some of the high school boys, who didn't appear to be his biggest fans so far.

"Hey, Awsten," Ellie's voice caught his attention, as she took a seat beside him. "Why're you out here by yourself? It's almost time for lights out."

"Uh, I don't really wanna go in there yet," he shrugged, trying to seem unbothered.

"Why?" She pressed, sensing that something was bothering him.

"They said they're uh," he started, shuffling nervously in his spot. "If I fall asleep first, they said they're gonna deck me in the face," Awsten mumbled, a little embarrassed.

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