Chapter Text
~Spoke pov~
I’ve had the same dream every night.
A rooftop, a night sky, barely visible stars from all the light from the city, the cool night air hitting my face, not cold enough to shiver, just cause goosebumps; the pavement so far down… most of all… freedom.
The only problem is that I don’t know how to get to that place, the freedom I lack. The ground is so far away but at the same time… so close.
Every single time in that dream, if that’s what you can call it, I feel myself shift closer against my will, fear and peace creeping into my chest, my stomach dropping as soon as I see how high I am.
I’ve never been afraid of heights, not really at least. Sure, I’d prefer to be on the ground, safe, but there’s something so much nicer, so much safer about being up high.
I always used to find my way up to the highest peak on playgrounds or anywhere I could.
My feet dangle off the edge, shoes discarded near my phone, backpack and sweatshirt. That stupid one he bought me before shit went down. At least he’ll never hear from me again, no one will have to hear my annoying voice anymore, they won’t have to worry, or pretend to be my friend.
All sense of fear vanishes as soon as I look over the edge again, an odd sense of comfort settling over me.
The building’s door up to the rooftop bangs open, and there’s shouting… no… sobbing, as I allow myself to slip off, free falling down to the hard concrete at the bottom. Tears sting my eyes from the wind, my relief and my sorrow.
"I’m so sorry… яє∂α¢тє∂… I’m so sorry for everything.”
I feel bad for whoever has to clean that mess up tomorrow, and before anything else happens, I’m pulled from my sleep suddenly, usually in a cold sweat, usually choking on air.
My breath catches in my throat, the familiar sting of a panic attack. I frantically search, looking for something, anything, that will help. Phone… water… bandaids… anxiety meds... anxiety meds! I barely grab them, nearly knocking everything else off my stupid bedside table.
"Water…” mouthful of water.
"Pills..." I murmur around the water, and swallow quickly.
My phone is next, 3:45am. A little over two hours before I was supposed to wake up, before we leave my childhood home forever.
My lockscreen is still that DAMNED photo.
“3215…214.” I go to discord, hovering over a name. MinuteTech. He’s always there when I need him, always there when anyone needs him, no matter what.
His last message was at 10pm, saying something stupid like ‘Please try to sleep tonight, tell me if you have that dream again’. But I don’t want to disrupt his sleep.
“He keeps his phone on do not disturb while he sleeps… so I could send him a message and let him see it later…”
I stare at that damned screen for at least ten minutes, waiting. Waiting for a sign, then I put my phone back down to charge and walk over to my window.
It faces the east, so I don’t usually get much sun in this room, unless it’s early in the morning.
This street is nothing special, empty, mostly abandoned. A single streetlight flickers outside my window, hurting my eyes. The occasional car passes, but it’s become less and less often every year.
This street really is nothing special. Never has been, never will be, but… to me it’s everything. It had my best friend on it, and all the memories we created when life was simple. It has memories of my old friend group before life went to shit. It has him… or it had him.
This house is nothing special either, a plain two story house, but not enough room for everyone here.
There’s a gentle knock on my door.
"Rose?” She pops her head in, half awake but concerned.
"Bubs…? You okay?”
She’s always looked so pretty in this light. The soft moonlight glow, even though it barely reaches my room, highlights her pink hair, the hair I’ve brushed through, the hair I bleached and dyed for her because they were too busy arguing or something.
We aren’t exactly sure how, but she somehow got cornflower blue in her hair near her face, and a little bit of lavender purple at the ends. The moonlight washes her out perfectly, making her look angelic. In this lighting her hair is a pale pink, instead of the normal carnation shade it usually is.
“What’s up, Rosie? Need something?” She shakes her head and sits on my bed, I sit next to her and she leans into me.
"Just wanted to stay with me for a little?”
I feel her nod against my shoulder, so I back up and lean against the bed frame with her cuddling into my chest. This is the same thing we do with our little brother, Becky, when it’s too loud in our house.
I put a show on for us, something stupid, like one of my friend’s videos. It distracts them enough to help them forget about the world for a while, at least until I’m done being the peacemaker, or at least try to.
I hold her like this until she falls back to sleep, so I can carry her back to her bed, lay her down and cover her again. I go back to my bed, the most uncomfortable but also the most comfortable bed.
I lay in it, staring up at the ceiling, just thinking. Thinking about how I’ll get them out of this, that’s my purpose in life. I have to get them out of this house, away from our parents manipulation. Out of reach of them, and then my job is done.
As soon as they don’t need me anymore, I’ll find that place. The one I’ve been dreaming about.
Maybe I’ll finally remember that name, the one I always apologize to. I know it in the dream, but it’s gone when I wake up.
Those thoughts, the ones of free falling off the roof of a 10 story building, of feeling that calmness, of the concrete at the bottom, the warm, comforting embrace of death that I’ve longed for, the feeling of not having to worry anymore.
Those thoughts gave me enough comfort, enough peace to quiet the persistent thoughts in my head, the nonstop voices, all different, all yelling different things.
It seems they all want that too.
I didn’t even realize I fell asleep again, allowing myself to float in a very rare dreamless void.