I think I have sunken away in my own thoughts. I don't know for how long I've been sitting here- in the same room- in the same chair.
I slightly turn my head to the side as I notice a figure standing behind me. I can't tell who it is. They're standing close to me.
"Do you want anything to drink maybe?" he asks uncertainty.
It was Bad. I see him fiddle with his fingers in the corner of my eye. I hesitate before responding.
"Eh- Water's fine... thank you."
He immediately disappears behind me to go get it. Not even a minute later he places a glass of water with a straw on the big table.
I turn around to face the table and everyone in the room, I don't look at any of them whatsoever. I lean forward and hesitantly sip some of the cold water.
It's very refreshing. The icy feeling goes down through my body and disappears somewhere in my stomach.
I lean back in my chair and look around, not at the people, but at the room itself. As I look around the room I can't help but notice that Dream somehow isn't here anymore.
I start focusing on the people- none of them is Dream. I look back and forth, I recognize most of them, the ones that are wearing the same mask.
Bad takes a seat next to me. He pulls out his phone and starts texting someone.
"Where's Dream?" I ask him.
He looks up confused, "Uhm, I think he's just freshening up."
"Oh, okay."
I'm not sure if I should ask him instead. I mean, Bad definitely knows why I'm here. The other people in the room seem to be busy with other things anyways, they won't pay attention tp our conversation .
In the car he asked Dream if he'd already told me. Told me what? Bad knows it for sure. I calmly breathe in before leaning a bit towards him.
"Uhm- Bad?" he looks up to me again, "Why am I here exactly?"
I can see his facial expression change through his mask. He doesn't dare looking me in the eyes again. Instead he looks at the table, or his hands.
"Eeh, I don't think it's any of my business to tell you. Dream should."
I furrow my eyebrows, "I won't tell him that I'll know or that you told me."
I try to sound as innocent and trustable as I can, but Bad gets up instead.
"No, George. Dream should tell you."
And he walks away.
For a second I considered asking someone else in the room, but I don't think any of them would tell me. I take another sip of the water as I focus my eyes on the door ahead of me. It could open any second.
I flinch and almost choke on that bit of water as the door actually opens up. I immediately sit back in my chair, observing what's going on.
It's Dream.
He's wearing the same black ski mask, but I can tell he washed his face. He looks a lot cleaner and more awake.
He's wearing different clothes. A white shirt and black trousers. I cannot see his shoes.
He sits down at the table in the seat directly in front of me, at the far other side of the large table. He's facing me, and I'm facing him.
Without looking anywhere else he demands everyone to leave the room right now. I sit in silence watching the room get empty.
Sapnap gives Dream a pat on the shoulder before shutting the door. Dream doesn't bat an eye, his eyes don't glide off of me.
Before he could even open his mouth I ask the question.
"Why am I here?"
His eyes glide over the table, he then looks at his hands, but doesn't respond.
"Why am I here?!" I repeat, but louder.
He squeezes his eyes shut for a second before getting up. He slowly walks towards me while he lets his hand glide over the table.
I lean back in my chair and burn my stare into his head. He finally says something, his voice sounds rather soft.
"George.."
He takes a seat next to me, in the same chair Bad sat in. I soften my stare and change my posture.
He doesn't look at me while asking a question, "Have you ever dealt with death?"
I bat my eyes, "What?"
He finally looks at me again, but doesn't repeat the question. It wasn't necessary, I heard it clearly, I just didn't know how to respond.
I open my mouth, "I mean- I'm a police officer, of course I've seen deaths."
"I mean; the death of a person that was close to you." Dream adds.
I think deeply, "..I don't think so." I say hesitantly.
"Have you seen someone die, or a dead body close up."
That last part silenced me. I breathe in and out heavily. What the fuck were these questions? I try my best not thinking about December 10th. I hadn't eaten for a whole week.
I was traumatized.
I can feel my stomach turn. You know that certain feeling that makes you not-hungry, or lose your hunger. It can come from anywhere. It makes you feel like you're full but also empty inside.
"George?"
Dream's voice makes me jump slightly. I look up at him, he's standing near the window now. His body faced towards the city, but his head turned towards me.
I try getting my shit together, "Yes, I've seen a corpse up close."
"Was it a person you loved?"
"No."
It doesn't matter if you cared about that person, seeing their dead body does something to any normal human being. I haven't been the same since.
Dream speaks again, " I have witnessed someone die.."
I look at him again.
"Someone I cared about- a lot." he adds.
"I- I'm sorry.." I say.
It's quiet for a bit. I see, he must be traumatized as well. But we both deal with it differently.. I think. I don't know how he's dealing with it. But kidnapping me cannot be the answer, right?
I mean- what do I have to do with that? I have no idea who he even is. No way we're connected to each other somehow.
It's still silent. I think wisely before asking a question.
"But what does your trauma have to do with me?"
I try to seem calm. I know you should never raise your voice at people in these kind of situations. There's a lot going on inside their head.
I patiently wait for his answer.
"Listen.." he starts, "Do you believe in soulmates?"
I furrow my eyebrows, what kind of question was that? I never really had a person I could tell everything. I have some friends, like Wilbur and Karl, but I would never describe them as my soulmate.
I love my mum a lot. I can tell her so much, but not everything. I never believed someone you could tell everything even existed. I never did and never will.
There's no such thing as a soulmate. So that's what I answer his question with.
"Hmm" Dream says, "I do believe in soulmates. There is such a thing as someone you're bound to be with. Not in a lovers kinda way, it can also just be a friend, you know?"
"..I guess."
I have no idea what this conversation is, and what this has to do with me. Eeh- he doesn't think I'm his soulmate or something right?
Where is he going with this convo. I don't understand, I'm so confused. Can't he just get to the damn point.
I stare at him in silence, not wanting to make him heated or something. He doesn't notice. He's looking at the city. The pretty lights shine over his mask and shirt.
He speaks again, "It has been over 10 years."
"What?"
He doesn't look at me as he continues, "I had a friend when I was younger. A best friend. I think you could say; a soulmate. I had known him for as long as I can remember."
I slightly tilt my head, trying to follow the story.
"We would always do everything together. We went to school together and we skipped school together. We also loved skating..he taught me how to do it."
I lean over to take a sip of the water again, not taking my eyes off him.
"One day- or should I say night- we were skating in this random park. It was pitch black outside. I remember not all street lanterns working."
I notice him talk slower, and softer.
"I remember it so vividly- yet so vaguely. I don't know what happened exactly, but he wanted to show me a new trick he learned."
I focus on him, on his voice, the way he speaks.
"So I watched as he went to stand on the road with his skateboard. He was so focused on his feet and the ground, looking down at all time. And I was so focused on him."
He takes a step forward, closer to the window.
"And before we knew, a car runs him over, at full speed, right in front of my eyes. The wheels crushed his body. I remember the noise that came out of his mouth when it happened. I could hear his bones breaking."
My eyes widen, "I-"
"It was a big car, a heavy one. It was shiny and black- definitely expensive."
I really wanted to say something, but didn't know what.
"And the driver.." he continues, "..looked me right in the eyes. I saw his face, I saw his fear and shock. And after standing still for about five seconds, he just kept driving, leaving us alone."
I stare at him in silence, not knowing what else to do.
"I remember dropping my skateboard and slowly walking up to my friend. His body was all messed up- like a worn out doll. There was lots of blood. I remember him not moving, not saying anything- just breathing."
I slowly get up and walk towards Dream.
"I had put my hands on his chest, he felt soft and fragile. His eyes were shut and his mouth was slightly open. His blond hair was soaked red. And then, it stopped."
I'm standing still, right next to Dream.
"He had stopped breathing. I remember his name coming out of my mouth. I used my hands to shake his body- to wake him up but-"
I can hear the pain in his voice, I stay quiet.
"And I don't know what the hell was wrong with me, I guess I was just- too young. And I was dumb, very very dumb. I had no idea what to do. Getting help didn't even cross my mind so.."
I wait patiently for him to continue.
"So I left him. I took my skateboard and went home. My parents couldn't know I wasn't home that night anyways."
My eyes widen. I don't want to think 'what the fuck' but what the fuck. Why didn't he call an ambulance or something. Wait- maybe he didn't have a phone at that age.
I don't want to make him feel worse about his actions, he clearly knows he made a huge mistake there. And I don't want to risk him putting his anger and pain out on me.
I slightly back up, rethinking the whole situation and story. Obviously it was the driver's fault, but didn't he get caught?
I try sounding as soft as I can, "What happened to your friend's body?"
Dream doesn't look at me, "It was found the morning after. They didn't know who had run him over so- just a funeral a week later."
"O-"
"I guess that's what we get for sneaking out to skate in the slums in the middle of the night." Dream cuts me off.
It's silent for a while, I can't help but feel bad for him. You cannot really control your actions or think properly in situations like that. I can't blame him, he was young too.
As an officer I'm used to hearing crazy stories. I'm used to people being all messed up inside their head after situations like this. I know how to deal with it, both with others and myself. It doesn't always work though- to calm them or myself down.
I eventually break the silence, "But Dream, I didn't kill your friend, who was the driver?"