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Why am I here?
He walks down in the path between the trees and gravestones. Listening as the wind plays its music between the leaves, as it makes soft sounds as it crashes with the walls that are around the cemetery.
He never thought he would be here, after all these years. Not once did he think he would have the opportunity and yet here he is, standing in front of his gravestone with one candle happily lit, the flame dances around and sometimes makes small shadows from the combination of light and flower; who’s petals were falling to the ground.
No one came here, not anymore. They were scared, they were scared of his corpse and of their future. No one came here except that one boy. The boy with dark brown hair, the boy that had his clothing dirty, the boy that came and sat in front of his grave sometimes for hours writing this book.
He never looked, it was the boy’s and even if he wouldn't be able to tell it to anyone, the respect of someone’s privacy drags itself into his ghost life too.
He was confused. His grave was in the back, completely opposite of the entrance to the cemetery. People were determined that he wouldn't get one, that the risk may be too big, but his parents were persistent. Their boy deserved to lay somewhere where souls are meant to rest in peace, even if everybody doubts that that is true.
Dream Hudson was carved into the stone. It was hard to read, almost unreadable until a week back. Until the boy came and cleaned his final place of rest, because everyone--even his parents--were walking far away. The gravestones nearby were having fewer people to say hello to them, to put flowers, because of his final bed. He felt bad.
He heard footsteps, at first he thought it was a normal visitor, that they were going to go around his place, he didn't bother to make himself invisible. He should have.
Small scream was heard behind him, he quickly disappeared and looked behind himself. I was the boy.
“H-Hello?” he said, looking around, the book under his arm “are you here? Can you please come back? I won't hurt you."
Dream slowly turns around, making himself slowly visible to the mortal. The boy's eyes widened.
"Are you him?" he asks, eyes darting towards the grave, Dream nods, silently looking at the leaves that are all over the ground.
"I'm sorry. That… that that happened to you." Dream looks up, looking into the boy's eyes. No bad intentions.
"How do you know?" His voice is scratchy. He didn't talk to anyone for so long. Not only people didn't normally see him, if they did, they ran away or thought it was their mind playing tricks on them.
“You don't know? It is famous, people are scared to go to the forest and some have started to call it the Dream’s forest. And books, articles were made” the boy’s eyes lit up at the mention of books “I'm sorry, thit-it must be really uncomfortable for you to talk about how you die--what had happened.”
“You know what happened?” Dream asked, there was almost a pleading look.
“You-you dont remember?”
No, no he doesn’t. He just has the injuries, the memories before.
The boy woke up. jumping out of his bed, quickly making it before going to the main area of the house. Jumping in as any 12 year old would, he said a small “good morning” to his parents, grabagun a piece of bread and putting on anything the boy found suitable.
“Mom, can we have something sweet today, please?”
“What do you think about pancakes with blueberries?” Dream started nodding “But you’ll have to go and grab me some from the forest, okay” Dream got up and ran to his shoes, grabbing his basket so he had a place to put all the things he found.
“Home around lunch time, preferably before lunch.” His mom said to him, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. He gave him his mom a quick kiss, giving his dad a hug.
“I will, don't worry!”
He walked in the forest, looking at the butterflys and other insects as they happily landed on the flowers around, some butterfly landed on his nose.
It’s wings were dark purple near the body, slowly fading into light blue, almost the same colour as the sky. White patterns were scattered on its surface like clouds or stars.
It took off, flying more into the forest and Dream didn't have a better idea than to run after it. He ran, sometimes stopping to collect some berries, but as soon as he saw the animal go further, so did he. Crossing paths with a rabbit, seeing some bigger mammal with nice horns on a meadow eating grass with its babies, seeing many flowers he decided to pick up to give to his mother when he came back.
He didn't see the butterfly anywhere. He looked, but he couldn't see it. It’s like it disappeared and he would swear to God and all the holy that it was in front of him just a second ago. Deciding that he should focus on picking the blueberries for, hoping, pancakes.
He looked around.
He doesn’t recognize this area.
He turns around, walking in the direction he thinks he came from, but he doesn’t recognize it, not anything, it all seems so foreign. He hears the leaves making quite rustling sounds, in the back, somewhere a group of birds suddenly get up. He was startled.
snap of a twig
He turns around, frantically looking for the sound, he is somewhat relife that he hears the sound, meaning something alive, maybe another person, is there;then he sees it.
It runs after him and all he can do is run. The basket long forgotten behind him, all the blueberries on the floor with the blue flowers he wanted to give to hsi mother.
It jumps on him and he feels his pain, then splatter of blood and black.
When he woke up, he saw the trees. Sun was coming down and people were heard around him, screaming his name.
“Dream!”
“Dream, your parents aren't angry that you forgot to go home!!”
His parents “I’m here” he says, completely forgetting the events that took place.
“Dream, please tell us where you are!” He heard the voice closer. ‘I am here, I am responding’.
“Ma’m I am here!” He started walking towards the voice “Ma’m?”
He saw the woman standing in front of him, her eyes filled with panic and terror.
blood-wrenching scream, full of pain
“M-mom? Why are you screaming?”
“Dream! Dream, no no no no on nonononononono…” She started to run, not acknowledging Dream in front of him, running… through him? He is confused.
He turns around and sees the body.
--TW small description of dead body, blood, heartbreak/sadness--
Immediately people started to swarm around the women, while other females started to turn around, not wanting to see the grosem scene for longer than they already had. The mother took her child into her hand, holding the head-less body close to her chest, crying and sobbing, not listening to the other people around. Not hearing her husband as he is trying to go to his screaming wife and his boy. The small boy he gave a last hug in the morning, the small boy that was excited about pancakes. The small boy that loves nature. That loved neutre.
Dream just looked at the scene, listening to his mother’s scream, as she was screaming for her son to wake up, screaming for the God of heaven, for the guardian of the underworld to give her her son back, to somehow bring him back alive.
Her husband tore her away from their child, hugging her, stopping her from running to her child. Tears running down his cheek, sobbing just like his wife, pleading the other man to take the kid to the village, to their home, to clean him so they can give him burial.
They didn’t know it would be that much trouble.
Dream wishes it would not have been, they deserve peace and not more trouble while baring their only child.
“-ream” he heard, “Dream?!” the boy in front of him called out. “Hey, you with me?” he said, with softness in his voice.
“Yeah, sorry, just got carried away with thoughts. I'm here, yea.” Dream looked in front of him, wondering why the boy was there. Why did the boy care and wasn't scared as everyone else?
“What’s your name?”
“I’m George, nice to meet you.” He put his hand in front of him and Dream grabbed his hand, the contact did not last for long. Immediately shivers were sent through Jecob’s spine and his hand was extremely cold where Dream had touched him; he jerked away.
“Oh, sorry” Dream sheepishly apologized “I forgot to warn you, it does get cold when i have physical contact with people, that are still alive” his face saddened at the reminder that he was dead, that he didn’t get to live through his puberty and fall in love, not to live his best years of childhood.
“Don't worry, It’s okay,” George said as he walked towards the grave stone, grabbing the flowers that were falling apart and putting the water away, going to the middle of the cemetery, filling the water up once again and grabbing flowers that he had in his blouse-like thing on his body.
He puts them carefully on the grave, taking out a new candle and flaming it. Now he had two candles on his grave and he was happy, in a weird way.
“How did you know?” Dream asked, still not getting how what happened to him was a popular story, hearsay.
“Me and my parents moved to your parents house after they passed and i think i have your room. Your parents left some letters for you and I was confused about why so I asked some adults around and they told me about the story.”
“My parents they… are they dead?”
“Yes. It has been about ten months.” Now Dream started thinking. He didn't even know what year it was, his perception of time was messed up. Was there even one?
“What is the year?”
“1920, May” Dream’s eyes widened, It has been 30 years. His parents died; that's why they weren’t coming to his grave. It explained the past year, not the years beforehand.
“I would have been forty and have kids… and we could go out…” Dream wanted to know more about his story, how people are thinking about this “Is it weird for me to ask you to tell me about my death?”
“In a normal situation? Probably yes” George chuckled “but here with you, not really. What do you want to know?”
“You said that it is famous, what happened to me? That article was written and I just want to know more about it I guess….” Dream was uncomfortable weirded out by the situation. Into the bad ‘weird’, it just isn't a situation you expect yourself to be in; asking someone to tell you about your death that had happened 30 years ago, when the person wasn't even alive.
“People think it didn't actually happen, and that it is just a story for kids to nor run into the forest or not deep into the forest. There are some books that talk about it. How you went to the forest and then they went after you, because you weren’t turning up home and your parents were scared. People around the village said that your mother found you and that you were headless. I heard people talking about how there was a problem with burying you” George looked down. He really tried to say as much without hurting the boy floating in front of him, but it was difficult. Trying to imagine how he must feel, how devastated his parents were. He loves his parents, and they love him. He can't imagine leaving them so young.
“They were scared that the thing, that did the horrible things to you will come back and that is why people aren't coming here. They let your parents come for a while but then forbidden them. Saying things is for their own good. Some old lady here said to me that they were sad. They wanted to come.”
Black tears were streaming down Dream’s face, leaving a balck trail, slowly fading into grey then turning white, fading completely. Until another tear came.
“How did you realize it wasn't just for kids to not go into the forest?”
“The letters. They were to you, from your parents. Have you seen them?”
“N-No”it doesn't make sense. He was dead, they were dead, Why didn't they see each other?
“Well, I read somewhere that if you are a ghost, you had something that you wanted to do and you didn't, so you need help from someone to do that. Do you remember something you wanted to do?” George looked around, picking a fallen leaf and throwing it away from the lonely grave.
“I wanted to give a flower to my mom, but I am not sure how to do that. She died… and I died too.” Dream looked sadly, “I can’t see them ever again.” George tried to put a comforting hand on Dream’s back, going through his body, having shivers go through his hand. He thought. How can he help him, to give his mother a flower he wanted to give her.
“Can we try to bring it to her grave? THeir grave is near the entrance to the cemetery, I think. You need to confirm it, let’s go” George put a supportive smile on his face, and started to walk in a way he believed his friends’ parent’s grave was.
Their grave was too dirty, but some flowers were on them, there was an old candle. Dream sadden, He was supposed to take care of their grave, to make sure it is nice and well taken care of. That it doesn fall apart like his grave--until George started to care for it.
“That is them.” Dream put a hand on the gravestone, trying to communicate with them, even knowing it is very unlikely.
“Now let’s find flowers for them. I know a nice place with flowers, go with me” George started running, Dream going right behind him. Going through the village, Jocab calls for Dream to speed up, getting weird looks from people around them, as they didn't see him, only George, who is helping him meet his parents.
They ran to the end of htir small village, looking over the place, many flowers and butterflies around them.
“Come one Dream, we need to grab those flowers” Dream looked around, looking for the ones he liked. When he tried to pick them up, his hand went through it. He saddened again. Of course he was naïve. Of course he won't be able to pick them.
George was in front of him “Do you like this one?”he asked, when Dream nodded, he picked them up “okay, now show me others you like, then we will bring them to your parents, okay?”
That is what they were doing. Dream looked around for the prettiest flowers, George picking them up for him and putting them together. When the sun was coming down, they decided it was time for them to give those flowers to his mother.
“George” he looked up at the ghost boy “if it works, can you take care of my and ma parents grave, please”
“Of course. I will, and I will make sure my future kids do too,” he smiled. “Do you want me to put your name on their grave too?” Dream smiled shyly at the thought of being with his parents.
“Yes, please. Can I give you a hug?” George ran towards him and Dream hugged him. Cold shiver went through his body, but he didn't care. How was Dream able to hug him? He wasn't sure, but he didn’t care.
“Let’s give them here, okay?” George looked at him, putting the flowers at the grave, looking atDream as he started to fade out. He was crying.
“Thank you so much George” he smiled, for what would be the last time George would see, but he didnt care, Dream was going to see his parents.
When George went to sleep that night, he saw a boy he recognized as Dream, behind him two adults, hugging him, all having tears in their eyes out of happiness. They were finally together. e saw the boy look at him and whisper a small “thank you , friend” as he walked with his parents out of his vision,
George kept his promise. He took care of the graves, and wasn't able to put Dream’s name on his grave with his parents until he was an adult himself, but he did it, and when he did it, he saw his childhood friend once again in the dream land.
He found a pretty wife, and had happy children. He never let them go to the forest alone, telling them a story of a boy who went there, that was brave and that he got lost. Showing them how to take care of the grave of his childhood friend, teaching them to help people, that the smallest thing can change someone’s life completely.
When his final day came, he asked his kids to take care of his grave, to take care of the grave of his friend, to teach the same thing to their children.
He was watching over them, with Dream, meeting his parents, giving each other hug without the freezing sensation.