(From Blue's Perspective)
Dem told me not one, but about many events, many of his dreams. Those dreams showed his childhood, some tolerable memories, but others just plain painful. His voice remained steady the whole time, his eyes focused on the ceiling.
I gasped every time as if no matter how many similar tales he said, I would still get as surprised as the first time I had heard it.
"No… This won't do," I said. "Why? Why now of all times? Why are you dreaming about all these right now? No, Dem… I cannot… I cannot hear," I said, as I sat up with my hands shaking. "Dem… No child can survive such things… No one can…"
"I am not lying," he said slowly, his eyes not moving from the striking beauty of the ceiling.
