breathing (zarry)

4. dreams

4. dreams

   

                     . Zayn Malik

I kept having the same dream. Over and over again. I couldn't get the masked face out of my head. His eyes, looked as if they stared straight through my soul. As if he wanted to...pull me apart.

Like he could see every truth and lie. Like he could see every emotion I felt. Like he knew every single detail.

I walked into the house once again and sat on the boy's bed. I was drawing as the sunlight came through and illuminated the spotless room, when I got a bit sleepy. It wouldn't kill me to take a tiny nap.

***

I stood in front of the mirror, feeling cold rush over my body. I saw the man lay his hand on my shoulder, but I didn't feel a thing. Then he disappeared.

"Why don't you leave? Why must boys be so nosey? I'll never understand." Blood seeped through the walls, staining them, and I soon realized everything from the boy's room was gone except the mirror.

"Are you afraid yet?" I felt cold air on my neck, and realized it was breathing.

"No." I whispered. Chuckles sounded throughout the room.

"Not what your heartbeat says." He appeared in front of me and just like that, he reached into my chest and pulled out my beating heart. He looked at me with a smirk.

"I wonder what would happen if I...squeezed?" He started squeezing my heart and I felt my throat close up. I was choking, and I couldn't breathe. Then he let go and I fell to the ground, gasping for air, clawing at the floor. Then it turned to dirt and I dug myself into a hole.

"What's the worse way...that you think...to die? Being suffocated? No." The man starting throwing dirt on me and the dirt clogged my breathing, and I couldn't move. I held my breath and everything around me turned to water.

"Buried alive? No." I couldn't see him, but I could hear him. And I can't swim. I felt myself dragging down into the water.

God have mercy on me.

I landed on the floor of the sea and started choking. But I could hear it.

"Drowning? Ya woulda thought. But no." I felt heat surrounding me, and wood started falling, on fire. I was in a burning house.

"Help!" I clawed at the door to the house and looked behind me to see the man standing in middle of it all.

"No one can help you, Zayn." He brought his hand up and flicked it down. A piece of the wood floor fell in front of me, and the fire caught on my clothes and I felt the burning and started screaming, letting smoke into my lungs, making me chock.

"Ah...this is how you'd hate to die. Not being able to get away. Not breathing. And feeling the burn of fire, charing  your body. Your skin turning black as night, your organs turning to nothing but ash."

He walked around me, smiling like he had won the world. He took my chin in his hand roughly.

"This...is your torture. Right? Leave me alone, and you won't have to do this anymore. Or I can keep...breaking," He flicked his wrist and I felt a pain in my leg and I fell to the ground. "You."

***

I woke up sweating and panting. I looked at my body to see no fire, blood, or anything. I looked to my side.

"Boo." I crawled off of the bed and pressed myself against the wall on the other side of the room.

"You." I pointed to him. He laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, me." He flicked off his mask, but it didn't make a noise as it hit the floor, it just dissappeared. I looked up at his face and gasped.

"What happened to you?" He scoffed.

"Like you care. I don't have to tell you anything." He sat on the bed and laid back.

"I want you to leave."

"I g-guess I'll go back home then." I stammered and went for the door.

"No. I mean leave. You don't need to be all the way out here, you can make any excuse you want, but to me, they're not valid reasons." He said closing his eyes.

"I'm not gonna leave. I could finally leave my home, you can't come here and tell me I can't live at my own paid home." He sat up and looked at me darkly.

"It wasn't me asking you, it was me telling you. Leave."

"Ya know what, you can go to f*cking hell! I'm not leaving." In a flash he was right in front of me. His face looked...burned and torn. Scrathes along his cheek bones and forehead, and burns everywhere.

His eyes probably the only thing that weren't a pinkish red.

"You really wanna test me? Don't you? Fine. You wanna play? I'll play." The walls started moving, closing in.

"You can't run, Zayn. You can't hide. Tell me when you want to leave for good." He said sitting on the edge of his bed. I narrowed my eyebrows and charged at him, but I went straight through.

"Oh, such an idiot. What a pity, girls like smart, good looking guys." He said leaning against his bookshelf.

"Too bad for them, because I don't steer that way." His eyes widened and the walls stopped moving. I stared blankly at him, waiting for him to pop a joke.

"Yeah...too bad for them." He whispered and then dissappeared. I sighed and closed my eyes. This...curly haired brunette needs to know I'm not leaving. And nothing that he does will make me leave.

***

"Mr.Malik?" I put my phone on speaker and continued to stir the cooking vegatables.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"I'm Renée Hall. The owner of Lés Mira Belle." My eyes widened.

"Ms. Hall! It's a great pleasure to speak with you. An honor in fact!" Renée Hall was a woman of greatness. Her paintings in the White House, in the lobby of The Statue of Liberty, and many other great places.

"As well to you Mr.Malik. So, Zayn, if you'd like, I would love to invite you to a dinner on Wednesday night. Many extravagant painters will be there, as well as I, and you may meet some nice young women." I almost chuckled, but realized I was talking to the Renée Hall.

"It would be great to see you." I replied putting the vegatables over my rice on a plate.

"I will email you the details, and can't wait to see you." I hung up and smiled to myself.

"Yes."

Sorry I've waited a couple weeks, school is back...dreadfully, but it is okay. I will try to update as much as possible. Love you!