Daydreamer

Ryan

I watched as Brendon feel asleep and I couldn't help but smile and lean down to kiss the top of his head. My Brendon was screaming at me in my head telling me to stop, to stop talking to him, touching him and caring for him. I let my face nuzzle in his hair smelling the faint smell of peaches which made me smile. "Brendon? Brendon honey?" Brendon's mom was calling from the hall way. I pulled away from Brendon and looked up to the door where Brendon's mom came in. "Oh hello Ryan." she said. I noticed how her lipstick was smeared slightly and how her bar strap was slipping down her arm. Oh and that hickey on her neck, let's no forget that.

We stood there awkwardly as I picked at the hem of my shirt. "Well Ryan you better get home." she said smiling softly.

I nodded curtly and turned back to Brendon frowning lightly and heading out the room. I walked back home although I really didn't want to. Not only was I worried about Brendon but I didn't want to go to dad, especially not with the outcome of tonight's dinner. I opened the door and noticed dad sitting on the couch with a bottle of vodka in his hand. I took a deep breath and made my way to the stairs hoping he'd let me slip by. "Ryan come here." my dad said calling for me.

I walked over to him and was immediately greeted with a punch to the face. I whimpered as I fell to the floor holding into my jaw. I looked up to my dad with tears streaming down my cheeks. "Stop being a fucking pussy." he screamed kicking me a couple times in the side. I was biting my lip to the point I could feel the blood flowing in my mouth.

When he was finished he pushed me toward the stairs and I quickly hurried to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me and walked to my desk picking up my notebook and walking to my window. I sat underneath my window and opened my notebook to a new page setting it aside as I rested my head against the wall and letting Brendon pull me away.

I walked down the stone streets with my hands shoved deep in my pockets. Wind was blowing roughly through the streets and hardly anyone was out. But I could see my Brendon standing near a cafe, a closed cafe. I made my way over to him hugging my torso to provide warmth. "Brendon." I mumbled as I neared him.

He turned to me and smiled but it soon faded as he placed his hand on my cheek. "Was this your father's doing?" he asked softly his hand caressing my cheek lovingly. I smiled and leaned into his touch, resting my head on his chest as he continued to run his fingers through my hair. "Were you with Brendon?" he asked his lips kissing the top of my head softly.

"Yes." I purred wrapping my arms around his torso.

"Did you at least eat something?" he asked pulling away and looking down at me as if he was scolding me.

"Not much, no, Brendon got mad at his mother and I went to make sure he was ok." I explained pulling completely away from his and walking toward the bridge overlooking the lake. I knew Brendon was following me so I continued to walk.

"Why do you care?" Brendon hissed from a few feet behind me.

"I think I have the right." I said shrugging slightly.

"But you have me, and if you have me who cares about him." Brendon said grabbing my arm and pulling me toward him. I looked up to him and frowned before walking toward the railings and looking down at the crystal clear water. "I'm all that matters to you Ryan."

"Ryan."

"Ryan, Ry focus."

I blinked a few times and looked up to Spencer who was kneeling in front of me staring at me with a worried expression. "W-what happened?" I asked quietly sitting up but wincing at the pain that shot through my ribs.

"Your dad's not here if that's what you meant." Spencer whispered helping me to my feet. I limped toward my bed and fell onto it curling into my covers and pillows. "I came to make sure you were ok, you weren't answering your phone."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Almost seven in the morning." he said laying next to me and pulling me into his arms. "We have to go to school soon." he reminded me.

"I'm tried."

"You never sleep Ryan, that imaginary friend of yours that you are convinced is real keeps you away from sleep, food and human contact." Spencer ranted.

I told Spence about my Brendon in eight grade and he first thought it was weird but as the years grew on he got use to it. "Can I stay home today?" I asked Spencer looking up at him with puppy eyes. "I don't want people to see my bruises." I added.

"Ok but I do have to go so stay here and be safe." Spencer said as he got off the bed. I watched as he grabbed his backpack and headed to the door leaving me alone.



"Ryan!"

I jolted from the bed, my heart racing and my palms sweaty. I had been sleeping, something that has become so rare to me now a days. I threw the covers off my body and walked downstairs where I know my father is waiting for me. I reached the end of the staircase and dad grabbed me by the neck and threw me against a wall.

I groaned in pain as he threw me onto the floor. He began to hit me, for a reason I don't know of. Sometimes he just does that, hits me to release his anger. Sometimes work was hard for him and his co-workers upset him and he comes straight home to release all his emotions on me, because it's the only way he can cope.

I whimpered softly as I felt his foot collide with my nose most likely breaking it. I could feel the blood dripping from my face as my dad stumbled into the kitchen to drink his sorrows away. I on the other hand laid there trying to regain my strength so I can stand and leave, at least to find Spencer. I brought myself to my feet and limped toward the door opening it and stepping into the hot Nevada heat. I walked down the street at an agonizing slow pace as I clutched onto my side.

"Ryan is that you." A familiar voice called out. I looked toward left and saw Mrs. Urie standing there looking at me with worried eyes. She came rushing out to me and helped me inside. "Ryan what happened?" she asked as she lead me to her kitchen and set me on a stool near her island.

"Bullies." I lied staring down at my lap as I heard her move about her kitchen. Soon she was handing me a warm wet rag telling me to hold it to my nose. I did as was told and watched as she gathered some things to clean my cuts and stuff. I watched in silence as he removed the wet towel and replaced it with an ice pack to hold against my bruising face.

"I'll clean that lip of yours, it looks like it split." she sighed as she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I sat there awkwardly holding the ice to my ice as I glanced around the room my eyes falling on a picture frame on the counter. I reached for it and stared at the picture, it was of a girl with hair resembling Brendon's. She was smiling widely but she was clearly lying in a hospital bed. Next to her was Brendon, his arm wrapped strongly around her shoulders as he smiled into the camera as well showing off his pearly white teeth. I smiled and stared at the picture a little while longer, the more I looked closely the more I noticed little things in the picture. Like how the little girl had a bald patch on the side of her hair. Or how Brendon looked as if he hadn't slept in days with the bags under his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"