SAPNAPS PERSPECTIVE:
Dream's Dad left the house three hours ago, it's 4am now. Still pitch black out. He got a call from a random number, and it was A cop calling from the police station. Dream's Dad said that the cop said Dream had gotten in a fight while he was out with mates and whilst Dream did get a little messed up, he ripped the other guy to shreds.
The front door opens, and Dream's Dad practically throws him into the house. If you thought Dream was scary, take a look at his Dad. Same exact face, just older. He's got stubble on his face, messed up knuckles from the amount of fights he's been in, and he's 6'7.
"Get the fuck off me," Dream raises his voice. He's got blood on his jacket and his shirt, but it's only a small amount. The side of his face is a bit scratched up, but his knuckles are genuinely stained with blood. the blood isn't even that dry.
"Dont speak to me like that," his Dad says.
"Fuck you, cunt," Dream says. I look At George and he Looks at me at the exact same time. We both look like we're about to shit ourselves because of what Dream's acting like towards his dad. Even Dream's older sister is fucking terrified of their Dad. Dream told me he's practically never cursed at his dad, no one in his family has. But Dream's dad doesn't even say anything.
Dream throws his jacket onto the kitchen counter, right in front of me and George.
"You're lucky I fucking bailed you out," His dad calls out to Dream whilst he heads upstairs.
"It's not like I fucking wanted you to! I'd rather go to fucking jail then stay in this shithole with you!" Dream shouts.
"Clay, go to bed. You're tired, you're angry, you're high as shit and you're fucking wasted." His dad says, trying to keep calm.
"Dream, if you don't wanna talk to him we'll talk to you when he leaves," George says.
"If he leaves. Fucking meth head... just a fucking freeloader... barely even my fucking dad," Dream mutters, slamming his door.
"Little shit," His dad mutters. He looks angry, but then he looks upset.
"What's wrong...?" I ask, gently. George looks at Dream's jacket.
"He's starting to scare me." His dad says. George and i look at each other. "You know- when he was a kid, only 10 or so... he was- he was so perfect. Wouldn't hurt a fly. And then-- I don't know, he just changed. When... when he was about 12. I'm sure you two know, but, he started just- skipping school, getting in trouble with the law, he got arrested and- it only got worse."
"What do you mean it only got worse?" I ask.
"He told us that by the time he was, like, 14, he was fine, back to normal ever since," George says.
"No. Ohh.. no. He only got worse. 14 he was doing hard drugs. Started drinking, we didn't know where he was half the time, just had to pray he would come back. God forbid he ever answered his phone, we couldn't reach him. His little sister was terrified of him, so was his little brother. Honestly.. so was his older sister. The days he did come back home, we had to just pray and pray he wouldn't be in a bad mood. He was in juvie for 6 months for assault. Came back- nothing changed. Went for 1 year for drug use and possession and assault. Tried to celebrate his 16th birthday when he came back, didn't even come home that night. Went straight back out. Got arrested that same night, he spent 12 weeks in a halfway house after that. Another 6 months for assault in juvie. It was just fight after fight after fight. And it- it scares me. And it worries me and I just can't have him back in that state."
"It's gonna be okay. This is just a bump in the road. He'll be okay," George soothes.
"It's just- he doesnt get sad- he gets angry. And it's worse. And it won't be safe for you two boys here."
the next morning, I wake up at about 10am. Nick slept in my bed with me and we woke up at basically the same time.
"You took all the fucking blanket off me," Nick mutters.
"Kay well that's what happens when you sleep in my room," I say. The two of us laugh. We both get up and head to the kitchen area where Dream is. I basically back away, but Nick drags me forward.
"Hey..." Nick says. Dream is on his phone, not cooking anything, no drink with him. He looks up at us, but he's got that look on his face. That scary look. When people look at you through their eyebrows, and they aren't smiling. They're dead serious, and they- they just have that look on Them.
"Have you ate anything since yesterday?" I ask.
Dream ignores us, just keeps looking at his phone.
"Hello??" Nick says. Nervously, I look around for Dream's Dad. Maybe he can talk to him instead.
Dream looks like he's sick. Deathly sick. Ill. He's got that pale-ish skin, dark bags under his eyes, overall attitude.
"When's your court date?" Nick asks.
Again, he ignores us. Keeps looking at the phone.
"He's not going to court," Dream's Dad says, literally appearing out of no where. Dream looks at him.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Two days. He's going to jail in two days."
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Shit. Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!
"Wh- why?!" Nick exclaims.
"Murder."
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god," Nick mutters.
"I'm gonna be sick," I whisper to Nick.
"3rd degree fucking murder. The guy he jumped died. I bet you're real proud of yourself, huh?" Dreams Dad says, walking over confidently to Dream. He looks down at Dream.
Dream doesn't say anything. Slowly, Nick and I backup. I have a bad feeling. But we leave, quickly, and go back to my room.
DREAMS DADS PERSPECTIVE:
I put my hands on both of Clay's shoulders. He looks up at me.
I pull him, close to me, and rest my chin on the top of his hair.
And I can feel him sob and cry into my chest.
"I'm scared," he whispers. I kiss the top of his hair.
"It's okay," I whisper. I feel a tear, stream down my cheek. "You've done 2 years before. It will... it'll fly by," I say. I'm lying. It won't.
"2 years Isn't the same as 15," he says. "And that was juvie. I cant- I- I cant go," he says. His breathing starts to pick up, and I can feel his heart pounding.
"Clay, look at me," I say, pulling away from him. He wipes his eyes, and then looks up at me with his big green eyes. Same eyes as me. Same hair as me. Same face as me. He's going down the same path as me. The reason he hates me so much is because I was never there for him. I was always in jail, or at rehab, or a half way house. But there is no avoiding this. Will he learn from it? I didn't. I cannot lose this boy. It may not be clear, but this boy is my whole world. Everything I do is for him. Favouritism? No. It's not. Because I do not know him or his siblings or his mother well enough to have a favourite, I was never there for them. I still am not, and I regret every piece of it. If I could go back and change one thing, it would be that I actually learned from the mistakes I made. If I could go forward and Change one thing, it would be that Clay learns from his mistakes too. But I cannot promise much. Nor can he run from this. All you can do is be there for him.
GEORGES PERSPECTIVE:
15 years. Has passed. It's 2037. Dreams 37, I'm 39, Nick is 36.
We just picked up Dream. I wish Dream's Dad was here to see, but he passed away seven years ago from a heart attack. Dreams family has completely abandoned him. We're his only family now.
"I'm going on house arrest," Dream says, suddenly.
"Oh- why?" I ask.
"Are they making you?" Nick asks.
"No. I just don't think I can go out anymore. Anything I do will just get me in shit."
"That's really good of you. I'm proud of you," I say. Dream smiles politely in the passenger seat.
"Oh, you're making me blush," he jokes, giggling.
"Anyways," Nick says. "How do you still look the same after 15 years?"