Needless to say, that gave me a lot to think about on my way home. My mind was reeling, so much so that Ben had to walk for me again. It felt strange to find out something that tied him and me even more together; my inner narcissist tried convincing me that this meant that we were—

No. Stop. This isn't about you. This doesn't change as much as you think it does, it just means we have one thing in common. What's wrong with you? Why do you keep thinking these things?

Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm getting lonely! Maybe it's because some of these things might be true. Ever think of that?

Don't be stupid.

Everything okay in there...?

Absolutely.

Sure.

I glared ahead of me, realizing a little too late that he probably couldn't see me. I was most likely just giving a death stare to some nearby lamppost. I heard a tiny, muffled snicker in my head and scoffed. Of course.

I'm sorry, but you do kinda look funny when you just glare at random things for no reason.

"When"? Do I actually do that? How much?

Just screwing with you. It was just this once. God, you can get really defensive sometimes.

It's in my blood. Like a tiger has its stripes.

That's not because of blood, dude.

Whatever. Just...I'm 16. Okay? It'll fade when I'm older.

Alright. Doesn't mean you shouldn't grow tougher skin now. If I wanted to, I could probably delve deeper into your subconscious and analyze—

For the love of god, do not do that, you won't like what you see. I promise.

Ha. I'm just messing with you again. I mean, I probably could do that, but...nah. Not really something I'd pull.

Good. Also, fuck you.

Sorry. I do that a lot. I mess with people, even in little ways. I just thought it'd be more funny and less traumatizing this time.

I blinked once, suddenly aware that I hadn't done that in a while, and found myself staring at my front porch. Oh.

Yeah, kinda forgot to tell you. We're here.

It's fine. You're fine. I'm just a little...I don't know. Stressed? Something like that, I guess.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm fine, you know. But okay.

—

I had school tomorrow, so I decided to skip dinner and rest my head for the evening. I couldn't tell exactly what time it was; all I knew was that I was tired. Come to think of it, it may not have been the best decision to skip a meal right before a Monday but I wasn't thinking right around then. It didn't really matter as much as it could have, because now was about the time I started having dreams again.

Oh, yeah. In case you were wondering; with all the crazy shit that was happening in my life, and all the time I was spending with Ben nowadays, you'd think I'd have some solid dream material for my brain to work with at night. But either I never was getting enough sleep, or I simply just didn't dream, because I could never remember anything when I woke up for a solid two months. Now that I felt this strange sense of emptiness and horrible satisfaction with what I had just found out, I was starting to dream again, and probably more than usual. I would always be looking up at some sea-green crescent moon, or would feel like some cold blanket was enveloping me as I could breathe less and less. Always something like that. And I never told anybody except people who wouldn't care; you know, like when you're making small talk with someone you barely know and start saying crap like "I had the funniest dream last night..."

But I didn't dare mention them around Ben. Even though he told me otherwise any chance he got, I kept reminding myself: This is about his problems. Not yours. He's counting on you.

Because I felt bad for him, you know? I'm not sure how else to phrase it, but it was like this new kind of sorry to me. Him wanting to hear how my day was, or asking if there was anything I wanted to talk about...it all just kept my mouth shut even more. I didn't want to ruin this. I didn't want to make him unhappy with all my stupid issues.

Because...I was kind of in love with him.

Yeah, yeah, it'd probably seem really obvious at this point to you but right after anything, well, intimate, I guess, would happen, there'd be some new problem or revelation to deal with. And with all this time I got to think now, I was able to finally realize. And I think he did, too.

Other than that, everything seemed to stay the same.

Charissa was a sneaky little asshat, whose friends weren't much better.

Jason, the weird kid who I wasn't avoiding as much now, was kind of cool but mostly still concerning.

Meghan was an adorable nerd, who liked Doctor Who and sneaking rounds of Tetris any chance she could get on the school computers.

Ben was a dead 17-year-old boy, who tried his hardest to be nice to me.

And I was tired. Of everything.

And it seemed to stay that way until one night where everything kind of snapped.

After almost a week of nonstop nightmares and visions, and anyone I vaguely consulted on the matter telling me to "open up" and "deal with it head on," I decided one night while going to sleep that tomorrow, I was going to tell Ben everything. He deserved to know, and I was being stupid with the way I was handling this. It was time.

I threw myself back into the mattress, wincing at the creak the wooden boards underneath gave out but eventually coming to rest. I still felt weird and hollow after what I'd found out a while ago, but also a little better now, and I was more ready than I'd ever been to try and make things better.

But nothing really seems to be wrong. Would it be that bad to just not tell him until they go away?

Shut up. This is happening whether you like it or not.

I drifted to sleep, somehow undisturbed, and woke up to sunlight streaming through the window onto my face.

Ugh.

My entire body ached, and I felt like something was dragging me down as I got out of bed and sulked downstairs to have breakfast like I'd supposedly always done. Mom wasn't waiting for me in the kitchen, surprisingly, but I didn't give it another thought. She probably just went to work early.

I suddenly remembered what I'd set to do today, and went to the living room without eating anything. I had to do this first, then when everything had gotten out of the way we could have a good laugh and maybe some cereal if Ben could even eat regular food.

"Hey, are you there?" I called out, sitting down on the floor. It felt softer than usual; maybe my body was willing to take anything for a chair right now, even hardwood.

Hm? You want something?

"I just wanted to talk. Like...in the real world. Please?"

Ben sighed and kind of faded into existence right next to me. Today he was wearing some mint-green tank top obscenity and jeans, which I thought looked good but not necessarily in line with his style. I didn't ask. Can't get distracted.

"From what? What's happening?" He yawned and leaned back against the seat of the couch, shifting a little bit. I sighed and looked straight ahead at the wall.

"I've...been having some dreams lately. They're not too bad, but I don't like them. I always feel like I'm drowning or like I'm under someone's watch. There's probably a bunch more that I can't even remember so it might not end there. I just thought you should know, in case...like...you had some undead input on it. Y'know?" I tried my hardest to sound like I didn't care but really, I was incredibly anxious to hear his response. Maybe this all meant something that I couldn't figure out (I mean, no shit it meant something. I just didn't know why it was happening now of all times). Instead I was met with silence, and when I turned to face him he seemed to be in deep concentration.

"You're having dreams...about being watched?" He scratched his cheek in thought. I hesitated to tell him the one thing I managed to leave out about these dreams.

"I mean, well...there were also ones where I was looking up, at...you know. The moon. But that's kinda a given—"

"You're having dreams about the moon," Ben cut me off, almost like he didn't believe me. But it was less skeptical and more of a classic please don't let that be true kind of tone. Which worried me just a little bit.

"...yes. Not sure how that's so concerning, because you've been through that whole thing," I said, waving my hands in small circles, "so that's probably why."

"Shit."

"What?"

"I—no. No, I can't tell you."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Hold up. If it's something about my dreams, then I think you should tell me. What is it?"

"It's not about...well, it kind of is. I...I really can't tell you. I'm sorry."

"Why? What's so important about this, I know nearly everything about you! And if we're gonna work together on this then I think I have a right to know—"

"Please. Please just drop it right now. Let's talk about anything else."

"No. You need to tell me whatever the hell is going on with you right now, because now I'll never be able to stop thinking about it! We said no secrets...remember?"

Ben stared at the ground. "I didn't think this would count."

"What do you mean? It can't be that...bad..." I faltered as Ben's gaze shifted to me, reading pure anger.

"'It can't be that bad'?" He repeated, scandalized.

"I-I'm sorry. But you need to tell me, otherwise, how can I trust you? Why don't you want to say it?"

He stood up, and his skin seemed to grow grayer. His outfit suddenly became tattered and worn out, and I could hear words bouncing around in his head before he spoke.