How's this for a Wet Dream? [Nightmare On Elm Street]

Chapter 16: Sleepover

Out of Phil's bedroom window, I watched as Mom pulled out of the driveway and left. She hadn't stayed too long after dropping me off there, which was surprising to me. She loved to gossip and loved an audience. Mostly, I figured, there was too much negativity going on with others for her to really be the victim in any way. She did, though, stop briefly to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Bryant. Probably about how I should behave and that she wanted Mrs. Bryant to keep an eye on me. However, I knew more about Phil's mom than mine did. She had often let Amy stay behind closed door in her sons room without bothering them. Because both of my friends had parents that let them be kids and trusted them to stay safe. I rolled my eyes to myself as I let the curtains fall back over the window in front of me. I then turned my attention to the boy brooding in the corner of his bed.

"You really should try and get some sleep," I said, my voice empty.

He looked up at me with an expression that I couldn't tell whether it was anger, confusion, or he was just too lost in thought. "You know I can't," he whispered.

I sighed, taking a seat on the floor, "We talked about this."

Phil let his legs loose from gripping them to his chest and dangled them over the bed. "So you're still going to try and lie to me about how you got that cut?"

I took in a deep breath as I stared back into his unwavering eyes. Well, that approach isn't going to work... Guess I gotta try something else. "Fine," I pouted, throwing my hands into the air before crossing them over my chest. "You're right about the cut."

"I know," he replied, "Why were you so insistent on lying to me?"

"I don't know," I almost yelled. "I guess..." I thanked my lifelong training in fabricating half truths, "I guess I just didn't want to believe that was possible..."

"But it is!" Phil scooted himself to the edge of the bed, letting his feet hit the floor, "and this bastard is killing us all one by one! What I just can't figure out is..." Phil took his face in his hands, taking a thoughtful stance, "is how should we fight him? I won't go to sleep until I know what to do. I've been thinking about what you said about the fire, but I don't know..."

There was a brief silence as both of us thought...except I was thinking about how to get Phil to sleep whilst not being a suspect in his murder and he was no doubt thinking off how to destroy Freddy. I laughed at the thought. Just as I figured something out and opened my mouth, Phil began speaking again.

"How have you been keeping him at bay?"

"Huh?" I was thrown off by the question.

"I know you've been sleeping or you'd be extremely fucking tired," he explained.

I shook my head, answers coming to mind, "I've been having trouble since this," I pointed to the wound on my face, doing my best not to smile at the thought of it. "Besides that...I'm not sure...I really have never dreamt a lot," I lied, "maybe that has something to do with it?"

"Hmm..." Phil was thinking again.

"Either way," I continued, getting up from my spot on the floor and instead taking a seat beside Phil on the bed, "You've been through a lot and do need some sleep if we're going to be able to figure anything out."

"But-"

"I'll sit here and watch," I cut him off. "If you so much as twitch, I'll wake you up." I took a moment to look into his eyes with as loving and understanding an expression as best I could. I gave a little smile and I could feel him easing up.

"Ok," he sighed. "First, we should get some snacks. I'm really very hungry," he had begun standing up.

"No, here," I said, getting up myself and putting a hand on his chest to push him back, "I'll get them. I'll be right back."