Boy

"It's simple," he said, holding her hand as they sat on the steps in front of her apartment building. He'd finally gotten her to calm down about an hour ago.

"It's not simple. There's nothing simple about it. What about my mother?" Ryan asked. Her eyes began to burn. He wanted her to run away with him.

"You know what? Fine," he said, yanking his arm away and standing on the sidewalk. He began to pace. "You know, I thought you loved me, Ryan. You told me you loved me. And if you weren't lying to me, then you would run with me. You would get out of this city with me. What are you gonna do here? Stay with that pussy, Eric? Try to make ends meet with your Negro welfare mother? There's nothing here in the shitty wasteland, okay? But if you come with me, you'll be happy." He looked directly into her eyes.

With another boy, Ryan probably would've left him standing there. With her attitude, she probably would have punched him, and then left him there. But when he looked at her, she was under his spell.

She looked down and nodded.

"I'm sorry, Brandon. I was just scared," she said, going up to him and taking his hand.

"So you'll go with me?" he asked, touching her face.

"I love you," she responded. "I'd go anywhere with you."

He grinned, even though deep down he knew he'd manipulated her. He wanted to believe that this was what she wanted. And it probably was. She just didn't know it yet.

She left a note on her mother's bed stand and left the house with a backpack in hand. Brandon was there, leaning against a car, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Are we going in that car?" Ryan asked, dropping her bag. He picked it up, went to the back of the vehicle, and threw it in the trunk.

"We are," he answered finally.

"Where'd you get it? You can drive? I never saw you with a car. Or your grandma." She was confused.

"Don't worry about it, love," he said simply before getting into the driver's seat. She hesitated, but ended up in the passenger's.

"Stop worrying. You love me right?" He was reading her mind again.

"Yes. Yes, I do." Though she had doubts at some moments.

"Go to sleep. When you wake up, we'll be far away from here. Where the air is clear and not polluted, and where there are no buildings, just open land…" he trailed off, then looked at her. "Just go to sleep, okay?"

She was tired. She'd spent all night pacing and packing her bag.

She fell asleep in two minutes flat. A deep sleep, and she dreamed of Brandon. She dreamed of his blue eyes looking right through her flesh, through her bones, and down to her soul. She dreamed of his pink lips, and their perfection. And how they curved when he grinned at her. She dreamed of his smooth, flawless skin, his freckles, and running her fingers along his face. She dreamed of his thick head of curly hair, and running her fingers through it as he sat between her legs.

He was perfect in every possible, so it seemed on the outside. And that's what she dreamed of. This time, she didn't dream of Vino's dead body on the news, or an old woman stuffed into a freezer, or a homeless man whose heart was ripped out of his chest by a supernatural force. She didn't dream of the blood on her lover's hands, or the voices in his head.

Little did she know that in days, even months to come, worse images would be ingrained in her memory, and she would have no choice but to dream of them. They would haunt her.