*The feeling of fear gripping his body was one he was all too used to. He thought this time a good night of sleep would finally reach him, that he would gently be coddled by the soft fabrics of his childhood blanket.*

*Instead, all he got was cold sweat dripping down his forehead. The blanket he was once wrapped in draped onto the cold ground with permanent tear stains marking its surface.*

*He could remember the dream and its entirety. It felt real, too real. More real than real had ever felt before.*

*”They’re gone. I’m so sorry but they passed away today.” He would check his phone, looking at his contacts only to see their contact already deleted. Not only that but the bracelets they made would be gone from his bedside, the necklace they got him for his birthday also gone. All the texts, calls, everything of them gone. But then he would wake up.*

*He would wake up so scared, like it was real. He prayed every single time that they weren’t gone. They would never be gone, they wouldn’t leave by the hands of death just yet. Right?*

*Frantically checking his entire room proved that their stuff wasn’t actually gone. Checking his phone their contact wasn’t gone either, and before he knew it a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding was let out. So why was he still crying?*

*Everything was fine. So why were delicate tears still streaming down his face, with sobs interrupting his thoughts every few seconds. He probably looked pitiful. In the middle of the night. Crying over something that didn’t happen.*

*It was stupid. He knew it was. But his fingers moved on their own at that moment, pressing your contact and then the call button. He needed to make sure. He HAD TO. What if you didn’t answer? What if his nightmares actually came true and you were gone. He could feel his chest growing heavier at the sickening thought. He needed to make sure ***you*** were alive.*

*Hearing the call being answered and your soft voice he sighed, but it came out more like a disgruntled sob, or, sobs. It was pathetic, he knew.*