𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎

drip. drip. drip.

i can head my heart thumping in my head like beats of a drum pounding a migraine into my head.

the ground feels cold, my back aches from discomfort as i fight to open my eyes.

where am i? why can't i move?

my breaths are shallow and shaky, the repetitive sound of droplets echoing through the large place i seem to be.

"hello?" i hear a nervous voice call out, desperate for someone to reply. i fight every bone in my body to move, to make a sound so they know im here. but i cant, it feels like im in a still coma, i am present but i cant move or even speak.

"is someone there? i'm scared.." the voice seems to get closer, footsteps echoing towards me and i feel my body jolt once i realise who it is, protectiveness rushing through me in an instant.

"rosie?" i manage to stifle out the loudest voice i could and the footsteps stop, i hear her gasp with relief.

"matty?" she whimpers out, anyone could hear her pleading sobs from miles away and i fight to move, but i still can't.

"i'm here, can't.. move" i manage to trail out my words, desperate for her to come help me. i hear her frightened breaths approach me and her warmth consoles me as she places a shaky hand on my side.

as soon as her trembling hand comes in contact with my body and eyes shoot open, like i had just woke up from a nightmare. my eyes dart around the room, and i take around my surroundings before i draw my attention to rosalie. her bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks blatantly obvious even in the dimly lighted room we are in.

"we are dreaming.." rosie chokes out, looking curiously around the room. i sit up from my aching position and try to focus on something

what the fuck is going on?

"it feels too real to be a dream.." i mutter out, sadness filling up in my stomach. i used to have these dreams, just after cedric diggory died but they stopped. and now they seemed to have returned.

rosie gives me a look of despair, and she squeezes my hand scared of what or whom may be listening to this conversation. but deep down we both know.

the familiar scent of candles fills the room, and i snap my head to the dozens of expensive portraits laid proudly across the tall walls. goosebumps spread around my body, the cold and emptiness making it feel more depressing than it used to..

"this place.. it's where i grew up" i hold back a choke and watch as rosalie furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

i stand up, curiosity getting the best of me and i slowly make my way over to the fancy mantelpiece which hovers over the fire place.

i pick up an ever so familiar picture up, observing it carefully i wipe the built up dust off it.

it was a picture of me, tom and my mother, before she went insane clearly. i was around 8 and tom must have been 9 since he is a year older than me.