Chapter 3

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Tw: Gun, Violence

Although the stream had just started, a lot of people were in there. "Hey everybody, welcome to the stream." This time, George stayed away from chat; not wanting it to happen again.

The stream progressed as usual, Dream would speedrun, George would talk to him; the same old shit. It was fun, refreshing. At least for George, considering what had just happened. It was definitely better than that. An hour passed and both of them were tired; mainly George since it was nearing 3 am.

"Hey guys I think Ima end stream now, sorry for it being so short." George leaned back into his chair as Dream clicked the end stream button. "So George, have you considered flying to Florida?"

"I don't like planes,"

"I could go to your place," Dream offered.

"I don't have extra rooms," George rubbed his nose as he lay in bed. "I don't think my dad would like that either," George added.

"C'mon George, I feel like you're lying." Dream was right, he was lying. George was nervous, scared. He didn't know what he was scared of, being with Dream would be better than being with his father. "When did you start hating planes? Have you ever gone on a plane?"

He hadn't. At this point George was desperate to switch the conversation. But he didn't, so Dream kept prompting offers; and George kept declining. Although George was really considering it, since his father was a nutcase; he kept saying to himself he couldn't.

All he needed was something to push him over the edge; one thing. And that one thing will happen eventually. 10 minutes had passed, soon turning to 20. George looked at the clock next to him, 3:34. He should sleep, but listening to Dream talk, being with him, even if it wasn't in person.

"Just come to Florida George, please," At this point Dream was begging, pleading for him to do it.

"NO, Dream. I told you no; I can't." George spoke a little too loud, he heard footsteps from outside his room. He knows what's about to happen, he can sense it. 3 am, he yelled, his father's room was next to his; the walls were thin.

"Why can't you?"

"I have to go, Dream," George hears the footsteps getting closer and closer. He could hear the sound of a gun being loaded.

Why the fuck does he have a gun ready just because I yelled?

"Where do you have to go?" George hears the knocking, he gets up and opens the door. His father had the gun in his hand, however he didn't point it. He used his other hand to punch George in the stomach; another bruise. He walks backward, watching as his dad cornered him.

"George?" His father could hear the faint noise, he walked away and closed the door. George exhales in relief, but looks down at his stomach again, this was the second time this day his father had done this; the second time his father had gone crazy.

George flinches as his father points his gun one last time before leaving. "George? Ya there?"

"Yea. I'm just a little busy." George sits down on the bed, sighing before laying down.

"With what?" Dream asks. George really didn't want to answer, he knew it was a bad idea. He didn't want to get Dream worried about his problems. But he talked anyway.

"My dad just pointed his gun at me and punched me," George adjusts himself on the bed, still scared. Dream thinks before answering, he could never think about George dying. He could never imagine losing his best friend, he rubs his forehead as he sits up in his chair.

"Has this happened before?" God I sound like a therapist. Dream was concerned, it was very clear, the way he talked; it almost made George smile. Smile that Dream cared, that he wanted to make sure his friend was ok.

"It has, but it wasn't as bad." Another lie.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Because we're friends, you shouldn't have to worry about this.

"I don't want you to worry about me, I'm fine," Another lie. When will I stop doing this, when will I tell him the truth?

"HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU FINE AFTER THAT!?" Dream had a point, George was seconds away from dying. "And why don't you want me to worry about you?"

"It's stressful to think about this, to think about how I almost died," George responds. He checks his phone, 4:01 am. He hears his father's alarm ring from the other room.

"I want to help you," Dream's voice was comforting, it made George feel safe. He wanted to be with him, he wanted to look at him. He needed it. "Can you please just come to Florida? It'll be better than being with your dad."

"I'll pay for the ticket, please George." George sighs again as he thinks. On one hand, it would help him and keep him away from his dad. On the other hand, there was nothing.

"The closest ticket is tonight at 7:45 pm. Is that okay?" George, after all this time, accepts. Dream was glad, happy. Although he did want to see his friend, he was glad that he accepted. That he trusted him, that he wants to be with him. Dream paid for the ticket while George fidgeted with his blanket.

"Thank you, Dream," George said. He was finally able to do it, he was finally able to tell Dream. The idea of being with Dream, being able to feel him, see him in person; know that there's a person behind that screen.

George lays back on his bed as he slowly passes out, it had been so long since he rested. Rested, instead of just falling asleep. Finally, he was able to relax. Dream giggled hearing the faint snores from George. He ends the call as he himself gets himself ready for bed.

It was finally happening, I finally get to see George.

Word Count: 1005

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