"Richard... So it was you."
After the other boys had beaten Richard black and blue, they headed downstairs with a triumphant air. Richard lay on the ground like a corpse for several minutes before struggling to his feet. There was an expression on his face I had never seen before:
Fear.
"Why?" I whispered. "Why is that look on your face?"
Why was "fear" appearing now on the face of this boy who usually kept his emotions guarded like armor, despite all the humiliation and beatings?
Richard was one of my most cherished students; I thought I knew him better than anyone. Yet, I hadn't even been aware of the bullying he endured. If I hadn't been trapped inside a dream at that moment, I would have made the world a living hell for those bullies.
By the time Richard began to descend from the roof, that jarring fear had vanished from his face, replaced by his usual expressionless mask.
Only I knew that something had changed. Would I have noticed this if I hadn't been kidnapped?
No.
I would never have seen that terrifying expression on Richard's face—that poisonous mixture of fear and hatred—which only a criminal being led to the gallows could possess. At that moment, I felt my blood run cold; if I hadn't been in a dream, I would have fainted long ago.
"Get a grip!" my brain screamed.
I was startled out of my thoughts by the sharp ring of the bell. Before leaving the roof, my eyes caught the sky one last time; it was like a vast, endless ocean without a single cloud. Then I went downstairs and continued to follow my dream-self.
With the school day over, I began walking toward that cursed place where I was kidnapped. How could I save myself while inside a dream? How painful it was to know everything that would happen and only be able to watch... To feel like a puppet in a puppet show... Yes, that was exactly it; nothing more, nothing less. A stringed puppet in a one-act play... Now, all I had to do was exit this stage before the play ended.
It was time to wake up from this dream.
Everything happened in the exact sequence of that night. Hitting him with the stun gun, my attempt to escape, and finally being caught and losing consciousness... However, unlike that night, I felt like I could finally breathe this time. At last, darkness fell and the dream ended.
I slowly pried my eyes open.
The room was still dark. To understand whether I had woken up from the dream, I moved my hands to my wounded wrists. The moment my fingers touched the wound, the sharp pain I felt heralded the end of that damned dream.
I was in the real world.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that Richard had treated my wounds while I was asleep.
If he had done this, I had to realize he had no intention of killing me immediately. Who would go through the trouble of dressing the wounds of someone they were going to kill?
Just then, the door creaked. I pulled my gaze away from my wounds and turned toward the door. The person walking in was, just as I suspected, Richard.