1. wake up
A voice was calling my name. I was in a world. Alone. Vacant streets. Vacant homes. It looked firmilar. I followed the voice. It stopped outside a house. My house. The one I lived in when I got pregnant.
It was Dylan. My baby. He had died three months ago today. In a car crash. I ran through the door up stairs to the room that was once mine. I ran to the crib. No child. No Dylan. But a picture. Not of Dylan. Of his father Dylan. Dylan O'Brien......and me. It was before I had dyed my hair. It was still my natural black color. And I had no contacts. I had my glasses and my green eyes. I had just met him. I don't remember taking this picture. It was taken from far away. From like a bench. Not close to us. Like....a.......stalker.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
I went down stairs to see who it was slowly scared of who it could be. It was Dylan. Not my baby. His father. He was covered in blood. Tears dripping down his face.
"Ali.....Ali......ALI!" He shouted the last time. I was scared.
"DYLAN WHERE IS MY BABY!" I asked harshly. He whispered something but I couldn't hear.
"WAKE UP!" He shouted falling to his knees and crying.
"What do you mean?" I asked running over to him hugging him. Oh I missed him.
"Ali. Please. Wake up. Please." He pleaded. I was confused.
"Where's my baby?" I asked once more.
"WAKE up. Ali. Ali. Please. Wake up." He was serious. So I stood up kissed him and walked up stairs. I layed down in my bed and closed my eyes. When I opened them I was awake. It was a dream.