Mia's Dreams by Angelica Twilight Page A

would have been safe to say he wasn’t dead now, either, but I suppose, technically, he was.  I could see him. I could feel him.  Besides, are ghosts really dead?  I mean, do they think of themselves as dead?  I sighed softly. 
    “I know you won’t,” I yawned softly as I said it. Sleep wasn’t exactly coming easily to me these days. Ever since I’d finally managed to drag out of Petyr what had been wrong when I’d been decorating the gym, the nightmares had sprung up. For some reason, Damien Croft wanted to kill me.  If Petry hadn’t rescued me… I shivered again.  The nightmares were overwhelming me.  Petyr said part of it was probably fear but I knew he’d been getting flashes of things, too; images like he had when he had walked past Croft.
    “At least there was something different this time.  There were angels right in the middle.  That part was nice.” I lay back down, my head on Petyr’s shoulder. His eyes were open and I saw no indication that he was going to sleep. Of course, I had no idea if he really needed sleep.  He slept sometimes, lying next to me on the bed, but I think he did it for my benefit, not because his body needed…I didn’t even know if he really had a body.  Nobody else could see it or feel it, anyway.  I was so exhausted.  I finally decided I was willing to risk the nightmares and try to sleep again rather than be a zombie in school tomorrow.
    As I drifted off, I felt the familiar swirl of blackness and I was pulled into the crashing, cloying mess of my dreams.
    ***
    Petyr walked down the street, his hands pushed into his pockets. He had started off at school with Mia, but had soon grown bored being unable to work or speak or anything at all; it was infuriating. He had kissed Mia’s hair and left. He’d been walking aimlessly for over an hour now, with no destination in mind.
    A boy walked towards him and Petyr jerked his head up, trying to dodge to the left. He didn’t manage to and his shoulder hit the other boys’; and it did hit. He could hear the crack, and feel the pain.
    He’d never been able to touch anyone except Mia.
    “Sorry,” the boy muttered, rubbing his shoulder. He looked as tired as Mia; gaunt and sickly looking.
    “I… you can see me?” Petyr breathed, his eyes widening; the pain completely forgotten for now.
    “Of course I can,” he raised his eyebrow, “Oh.  You’re being sarcastic.  Look, I wasn’t paying attention.  Sorry I walked into you.  Let it go.”
    “No, no, of course not. I…” How on earth did he even say it? Okay so he wouldn’t. “I’m Petyr.” He said softly.
    “Malachi.” The boy offered his hand and Petyr took it eagerly, desperate to feel human contact. His hand slipped through the boy’s, but when he did there was a sudden shock of cold and then elation that passed almost immediately. Malachi’s eyes widened and he furrowed his brows, staring at his hand.
    “Did your… did your hand just go through mine?” he raised his eyebrow and Petyr shifted uncomfortably before nodding.
    “Are you dead, too?” he mumbled, shifting and clasping his hands behind his back.
    Malachi cocked his head to the side. “You’re between.” He ran a hand through his long black hair and grinned wolfishly.  “I’ve never met one before.  Wow.  How long?”
    “Between?  What are you—”
    “You’re not alive but you’re not quite dead.  You’re between and you’ll be—”
    “But what the hell do you know about it?”
    “Most of the time you end up between because there’s something your soul can’t accept and it needs to fix it.  Once you’re done, you move un.”  The boy was smiling warmly now, and Petyr couldn’t help but feel angry about it.
    “Who the hell are…”  He took a deep breath.  “I fixed what was wrong, but I’m still here.”
    “Oh…”  The boy’s eyes grew wider and he lifted his eyebrows.  “Then you’re here for a purpose.”  When he said it, Malachi’s eyes