THE RUN AND GO : JOSHLER

20 : HOME

It was the middle of the night. A sliver of moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, illuminating a stripe on the bed. Stars sparkled in the sky above. The dead of night created a peaceful, serene silence. No one was awake. There was no sense of danger looming overhead. Everything was quiet.

Until Josh woke up screaming.

Josh jolted straight up in his bed and screamed at the top of his lungs. His screams pierced the silence like a bullet. He clawed at his bare chest, his dirty fingernails creating even more cuts and scrapes over the whip lashes.

"Josh?"

He began to hyperventilate. The darkness taunted him. The silver light coming from the moon did not drown the shadows. They seemed to be climbing out of the walls, the ceilings, the floors.

Someone was coming after Josh. Someone was going to take Josh away. Someone was going to hurt him.

"Josh-!"

He desperately gripped the sides of his head, pulling out tufts of thin green hair. His chest rose and fell quickly with every pained breath. The voices inside his head screamed, so Josh screamed back.

When his voice finally gave out after so much screaming, Josh started to mutter and whisper and twitch like an absolute madman.

"Josh!"

He faintly heard someone yelling his name, but his mind wouldn't let him comprehend anything. It kept repeating the same thing, over and over again: Time to wake up. Time for another round.

"Not the fire," Josh muttered, his wide eyes filling with misty tears. He stared down at his legs, covered by the thin sheet. All of the muscles in his body tensed. His lungs tightened. He couldn't breathe. It felt like he was drowning.

He gripped the sides of his head tighter and leaned over, putting his head between his legs.

"Don't take me Dallon, please I promise I-I..." Josh murmured. He rocked back and forth a bit and squeezed his eyes shut. "D-Don't get the whip, p-please. I promise I'll shut up. Just don't get the whip. N-No. Not the fire. Please."

Tears poured down his face. He gasped desperately for air. He still couldn't breathe. He still couldn't think and hear or see or understand anything around him. He was stuck inside of his own nightmare.

"Josh!"

Josh suddenly felt a hand touch his arm. His first instinct was that this person, whoever it was, was going to hurt him. Every touch was to hurt him, or to take him somewhere to be hurt. This person was going to take Josh away and hurt him.

Josh sat up slapped the person, right in the face with the back of his hand.

The loud SMACK sounded through the small bedroom.

It made Josh snap out of his daze. His eyes widened, and his hands went up and covered his mouth once he realized what he had done.

Tyler was sitting there in the darkness, head down. His hand held his cheek.

"Tyler..." Josh breathed. He reluctantly scooted forward and removed Tyler's hand from his face. His fingers gently brushed over the red, stinging skin.