"Y/N.." he whispers. "You.. killed a man. In cold blood. For me."
My jaw tightens.
He continues. "Just shot him. Right between the eyes without even blinking. I know that you and I are close, but you have no idea what I've done. I deserved that bul...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
————————
I used to consider myself a lucid dreamer, but after the nightmares began, I wasn't so sure anymore. It usually comes naturally to people, but some people just want to experience it so badly that they wake up at certain hours, just to sleep again after 20 minutes, disrupting the cycle of their REM sleep. Which is unhealthy for the body.
I happen to be somebody that comes with it naturally. I used to be able to be in full control of what I saw and dreamt. Before everything happened. I would be 10 at most. I would dream of the boy I had a little crush on, pretending that we were dating by my own mind's rule. Anything I wanted. We would go to the park, giggle and have the time of our lives. If I was feeling a little cheeky, I would even throw in a small peck to the forehead or... well cheek.
I was able to bring my imagination to life. See and hear what I wanted. Sometimes I believe that it was actually happening, but deep down I knew that it always felt too real. Too perfect.
After my parents died, that's when my ability began to fade. All of the control that I held in my palm was ripped from my grasp and there was nothing I could do about it. The trauma impacted my mind at such a young age, I couldn't even separate myself from the world and live in my own head to get away from all the evil and death.
I would just live through the horrors of my parents getting shot in the head over and over like a broken record. Every night I would wake up screaming and wailing, just to be met by my comforting brother, who would hold me and tell me that it wasn't real. Telling me to fight the demons that lurked inside my soul.
I was only 10. I had no idea how to do that. As I got older, it got easier and I was able to fight them. I still would wake up crying, but I wasn't hysterical and falling apart.
I remember one night when I was about 16, I woke in the middle of the night as I would every other night, but I heard somebody whimpering in the room next to me. I grabbed my gun and slowly made my way over, not sure what to except. I remember the way my chest felt compressed, fear taking me into it's hold.
I slowly opened the door where the sound was coming from, which was Seho's room.
He was sweating profusely, whimpering and panting heavily. I lowered my gun, sighing. He kept mumbling something and then suddenly let out a scream, his back arching. I ran over as quickly as I could, no matter how groggy I was. I held him and he nearly immediately calmed down, crying. He clutched me, the sweat sticking to my skin.
He allowed me believe that I was the only one with problems. He's been having nightmares as long as I had, but he never told me or it never showed when he slept. Every night like I did. He said that he tried to be like I used to be. A lucid dreamer. He wanted control over his own mind because it was just killing him. He tried that night, but it messed his head even more. He couldn't even wake himself up. Just lived the graphic, emotional tape over and over.
