Naomi's POV

Once I got home, I received a hard slap across my face from my father. I didn't want it to be Thursday; that meant that tomorrow was Friday, and that in two days it was the weekend. I would be home. They would be home.

I prayed to Heavenly Father for strength, and took out a photo album. It had everything from my birth to my baptism to our Disney trip. Chris was in a lot of these pictures. He'd been there for every birthday up until my thirteenth, when he was gone in Norway. I looked through it and touched the faces of the smiling people. They looked so happy, and I was just...here. Now. And everything was horrible.

I locked my door and didn't go downstairs for dinner; instead I stayed in my room and did homework, wrote on Wattpad, and drew. I was a horrible artist, but I loved it nonetheless. My parents didn't seem to care if I ate dinner or not. I fell asleep around eight. That was too early.

"Sins, sins, homosexual sins."
"Go away," I shouted at the scary man approaching me. The black trench coat  matched the black fedora. Various shades of red flickered behind him, going between red and black, and it sounded as though we were standing on glass. Red sparks emitted from him, especially from the top half of him.

"No." His voice was almost a sneer. It was as if he was Severus Snape, although the eerie man looked nothing like Alan Rickman. He was British, though.

"Yes," I commanded. Now, when the background flickered red, thundering booms echoed throughout the neverending void. My voice didn't waver, although I felt that if I were to speak for longer than I had, it would shatter.

"Ah, Naomi, you believe you have power over me? Your worst nightmare? Naïve little girl,"

"I am not naïve." Boom. Boom. Boom. It was rhythmic. It seemed to beat along with my heart, and the booms came quicker and quicker.

"Sir,"

"I will not call you sir." As he walked towards me, I stepped backwards. We stayed the same distance from each other.

"Who am I, Naomi? Whose face is this, trying to have an adult conversation with you in a dream?"

"I don't know. Why should I? You don't exist."

"Oh, dear, you ignorant child. Your brain? You've got one, don't you?"

"Of course I have a brain, you moron,"

"Naomi," he warned, "it will do you no good to taunt me."

"I'll do what I want. It's my dream. I can make you go away."

"But you won't, will you? Because I left you with an insult about your intelligence. No one likes to leave a conversation insulted."

"Get on with it, then, what have you come here for?" He smiled creepily.

"Good. I have your attention now. Whose face is here, when it could be anyone else's?" I studied him.

"A strange version of Brian D'Arcy James," I replied. It was sort of true; he did look like him a bit.

"Alright, alright. Now dig deep down. You know my name. And don't you dare say Brian, child. What is my name?"

"I don't know,"

"What is it?!"

"I don't know!" I screamed. He walked up to me. I couldn't move my legs.

"Immobile, are you? Good. The more you scream and fight me, the harder it will be to move." The booms became so fast that the sky was almost constantly red, and my chest hurt. "And the more you answer my questions calmly, the easier it will be to move. So answer me. What is my name?" His voice was slow now.

"Daniel. Daniel Hopcroft." I could feel my legs again.

"And what is Daniel Hopcroft doing in your dream?"

"As Brian D'Arcy James? I don't know," My knees wobbled, but I could still move my legs.

"Dear God, girl, are you not getting it? I'm here to bring you where you belong." He took two steps backwards.

"And where is that?"

"Hell. Along with those teachers of yours who are trying to get your parents in trouble." I was suddenly overwhelmed with pain all over my body. I cried out for anyone, anyone except Daniel Hopcroft. Daniel smiled, appreciating the amount of pain I was in. He stomped his foot. "It hurts, doesn't it? It hurts to be a snitch..."

"I didn't do anything! If I wake up, everything will be fine. If I wake up, I won't be in so much pain..." I fell to the ground writhing, closing my eyes; I felt a strong pain of hands restrain me. When I opened my eyes, Daniel was still standing four feet away, towering above my helpless body.

"It's not me. I don't exist. And you're wrong, Naomi. If you wake up, everything will still hurt. The pain you are feeling is very real, not just in this dream world. And if you wake up fast enough, you'll see why." Daniel Hopcroft snapped, and his wiry frame was gone in a puff of cigarette smoke which I could smell from the floor. I tried desperately to open my eyes.