Our Love Isn't Perfect, But It's True

Smokey's POV

It was getting late into the night, and at one point, we almost got caught by Mr. Finn when he randomly walked into my bedroom when I was practicing the guitar and asked where Mick was. I told him she was in the bathroom, which was the only excuse I could come up with on such short notice. He left, which was perfectly fine with me.

It seemed as though neither Anne nor Mr. Finn suspected anything. They even went to bed already and no doubt fell asleep. I know from experience Mr. Finn is an extremely light sleep, and Anne is extremely heavy. Not even a thunderstorm wakes her up. Anyway, when they went to bed, so did Josie, Ethan and I. I was a light sleeper, so I could handle it if Mr. Finn or Anne decided to come check up on us in the middle of the night.

But as of right now, since my best friend and roommate was gone at a stupid fight club, it was dark, silent and a little frightening in our room. I sighed as I rolled over in bed, staring out into the darkness of the room. I closed my eyes and drifted into sleep.

I was running through a maze of halls in a house I had never seen before. It was just corner after corner and turn after turn of bland grey halls with pure white carpet. There were no doors, no windows, no other halls to turn down. Just one tipsy-turning path with no immediate way out.

Out of nowhere I tripped over what seemed to be air and crumpled to the thick shaggy carpet. "What the hell?" I muttered, rubbing the sting of carpet burn out of the palms of my hands. I turned over on to my butt on the soft plush carpet and stared back down the hall. All the turns and twists had disappeared and it was just a straight hallway as far back as I could see. "Weird," I said to myself, since no one else was around to talk to.

Then I noticed the splotches of a dark color in the carpet. Leaning forward to examine the ones nearest me more closely, I realized what they were: footprints. My footprints made by some sort of dark liquid. "Well, that's going to stain," I spoke aloud as though talking to someone, even though I knew no one was around. I immediately began searching for cleaning supplies. But there was nothing around me. No doors, supplies or even decorations in sight.

It was strange. I didn't remember how or when I got here, or where I was going. Or even what the heck I had been running for or from. This had to be one of the weirdest dreams I had ever had. But then and there, I had no idea I was actually dreaming.

I leaned further forward and touched the liquid. It was sticky, and I realized that the color was a deep dark red. Immediately, I screamed and began scooting backwards across the carpet away from the blood trail I had apparently made down the hall. Then, I hit a wall.

I hadn't seen this wall when I was running, but here it was now. When I stood and turned to look at it, in front of me was a smooth wooden door with an antique golden door knob. I quickly opened and fled through, slamming the door behind me. Inside was pitch black. A light suddenly lit, illuminated two silhouettes, but not the people themselves. All I could tell about them was one was a man, and the other, a woman.

"It's your fault this happened to us," the male spoke, and I could've swore I knew that voice. It was deep, gruff and so familiar. But my head was swimming and my mind was foggy, and I couldn't begin to process who it was. Then, the woman added, "It's your fault we are dead, we are never coming back."

Another light shined, it's source still unknown. It brightened the fronts and faces of the people that I now recognized as my parents, after the car crash. Bloodied and broken. I screamed and my back hit the door. I closed my eyes willed it all to go away.

I screamed as I sat up in bed, panting and sitting in a cold sweat. "It's only a dream," I said, repeating it over and over again to calm myself down. From there, I slid out of bed and trumped across the hall and knocked softly on Ethan's door. "Ethan?" I whispered, leaning around the door to peek into the room.

"Hmm?" he called from the darkness somewhere. I stepped in and shut the door behind me, reaching my hands out straight in front of me so I wouldn't trip over anything. But it didn't really help since there was stuff practically thrown across the floors. When I finally tripped over enough distance to reach the bed, I stood at the side.

"Ethan," I whisper-shouted again. Ethan groaned and rolled over to face me. I saw his eyes flash in the poor light as he woke up.

"Smokey? What is it?" he said, watching me with a worried expression. I shrugged one shoulder, suddenly feeling incredibly childish and insecure. Ethan smiled a lazy tired smile and pulled the covers back, allowing me to crawl under them with him. He pulled me to his chest and rest his chin on the top of my head. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Just a nightmare is all," I answered like it was nothing, but just speaking of the dream made me shiver. And Ethan noticed. He sighed and hugged me closer.

"It's alright, I'll protect you," Ethan said as if he was talking to a child, then pulled his head back and smiled at me. I laughed softly and nuzzled up against him, letting the warmth of his arms comfort me back into deep, nightmare-free sleep.