It Starts on Sunday

The dream.

I must've cried for hours, and then fell asleep, because when I woke up, it was four in the morning and Brendon was lying in his double bed next to me. I tried to look around his room, but it was so dark that all I could see were shadows of objects in the room. Next to the bed was a wooden table, which had various bits and bobs on top. Opposite the bed was a walk in wardrobe, which I noticed had all my clothes hanging inside. Next to that was a large T.V, on a shelf above the telly was his X-box, then my PS3, then his DVD player. His wallpaper was weird, it was blue, but it had vines on it. I couldn't stop staring at a single point on it, because it looked like a clown and I hated clowns. I rolled slightly closer to Brendon's steady figure. He was breathing deeply and the sound was comforting. I rested my head on his chest gently. I couldn't tell if he was awake or if it was just instinct, but his arms were around me before I could even blink. I fell easily back to sleep.

After about half an hour of sleep, I figured I had woken up again. Brendon was lying next to me whispering softly to himself. I tried to work out what word he was repeating to the silent room.
"... Kayla... Kayla... Kayla..."
I looked down, then back up at him. A pained expression had managed to force it's way onto his usually happy face. I stared at the expression, which was taunting me. It wasn't Brendon, it was Brendon's figure, his face, his smell. But the expression didn't fit in.
"... Kayla... Kayla... Kayla..."
He bagan to say it faster and louder. I moved away from him and stared into his eyes. They weren't his eyes though. Brendon had big brown eyes. But the imposter's eyes were bright blue. They were eerie.
"I don't get it." I heard myself say.

He didn't move. His eyes didn't focus.
"KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA..." He continued to shout. His fingers were twitching.
All of a sudden he stopped shouting. In fact he stopped doing everything. He stopped breathing, stopped shouting, stopped twitching. He just stopped. Then as if he was possessed, his eyes started rolling back in his head and a voice that wasn't his started saying: "Brendon, Kayla, Brendon, Kayla, Brendon, Kayla..." His voice returned slowly back to normal as he whispered: "Get it yet?"
"Yes, I do." I felt I had to answer.

I woke up for real screaming at the image burned in my brain.
"Kayla, snap out of it. What's the matter with you?" I was clamped in Brendon's arms, and I didn't try to escape.
I said the only word I could manage over and over again.
"Eyes. Eyes. Eyes..."
He looked down at me like I was crazy.
"Who's eyes? Come on, Kayla, answer me, you're stronger than this. Please." He was terrified. I could tell by his voice. He began to rock me backwards and forwards to calm me down.
I forced myself to tell him what I'd seen. He looked at me like I was crazy again.
"I had he same dream. Well, it was the same but reversed. You got all weird, and when I'd mentioned that I didn't get it, you started repeating: Kayla, Brendon, then asked if I got it. I felt like I had to answer the question." He said awkwardly.
I looked up at him. The same dream but reversed. Something was definately up with that.
"I know, I answered as well."