Inside the dream, he was thinking.
Not running.
Not hiding.
Thinking.
Why not someone else?
His thoughts spiraled as if they had been waiting years to speak.
"Everyone dreams," he muttered.
"Everyone has nightmares."
His breathing grew uneven.
"So why me?"
His voice rose.
"WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE STUCK HERE?"
The words tore out of him, raw and loud, echoing endlessly through the empty space.
He screamed again.
And again.
Until—
Eyes Open
Suddenly, light.
Real light.
His eyes snapped open.
A ceiling.
A familiar one.
The outside world.
His body was small.
Five years old.
But his mind—
His mind felt ancient.
Heavy.
As if it had lived too many lives to fit inside such a fragile body.
He stared at his hands.
They looked unfamiliar.
How long was I gone?
He couldn't answer that.
Inside the dream, time didn't behave.
Years could pass between breaths.
Lifetimes between blinks.
Returning to "Normal"
Days passed.
Slowly.
Painfully.
He began to move again.
Eat again.
Speak again.
People said things like:
"He's getting better."
"He's finally normal."
But they were wrong.
Normal was something he remembered, not something he lived anymore.
He laughed at the right moments.
Nodded when spoken to.
Did what he was told.
But inside—
He was always listening.
She Never Left
Night came.
Every night.
Sleep became a gamble.
If he slept—
She might be there.
If he stayed awake—
Exhaustion dragged him under anyway.
Sometimes he woke up screaming.
Sometimes he woke up silent, frozen, eyes wide open.
And sometimes—
He woke up already afraid, before anything even happened.
The Outside World Feels Wrong
He tried talking.
Tried explaining.
But words came out… wrong.
Disconnected.
As if they didn't belong to him.
His sentences broke halfway.
His tone didn't match his feelings.
People looked at him strangely.
"Why does he talk like that?"
"He sounds… distant."
He noticed it too.
It felt like someone else was speaking through his mouth.
Like his real voice was still trapped somewhere else.
A Child Who Aged Too Fast
He walked.
Played.
Sat in classrooms.
But everything felt unreal.
Colors too bright.
Sounds too sharp.
Every sudden noise made his body tense.
Every quiet moment felt dangerous.
Because quiet was where she used to appear.
The Thought That Won't Leave
One question stayed with him, louder than fear:
Did I really wake up…
or am I just in a quieter dream now?