There's a boy that I dream about.

Late at night as I toss and turn in a restless sleep when my brain and heart both create a world filled with utter despair, yet it still holds peace and happiness. When I lay upon the cold and hard surface of the earth, with nothing but the wings of the trees as my shelter. That's when the boy appears.

His features are always blurry, with a beautiful haze that my eyes refuse to clear up. It is obvious that his eyes glisten with a jewel color, shining in the darkness. His hair flows carelessly limp in a mesmerizing tangled world across his forehead, just missing the glow of his eyes. He has a tall appearance, towering over everything else that appears in the stillness of my dream. I always cry senseless, incomprehensible tears in my dream, nearly choking on my faux sobs. The boy will look at me with a smile that sends shivers all over my freezing flesh.

"Come to me." He always speaks these words in a hushed whisper with his arms stretched out towards me. His voice is so soothing, dripping with a pleasurable poison that kidnaps the heart. I go to him with an unknown fear brewing within me. His embrace always feels so real, nearly waking me up from my lazy slumber. The way he holds me tightly to his chest makes me feel safe and secure.

I subconsciously squeeze him tighter and tighter to me, proving to myself that he is real and that he won't run away from me. The sweet scent of a dark, yet somehow bright world fills my nose with an incredible aroma that calms me. My muscles relax and my sobs become distant cries, but tears still manage to stream down my cheeks in rivers as the dams in my eyes are unable to build themselves back to their original strength.

In the complete darkness of the unidentified room, the boys takes my hand and leads me elsewhere, murmuring soft words of comfort in my ears that sound like beautiful melodies that are indescribably perfect in every way. A stone path appears beneath our footsteps, with the night sky shining above, although there isn't a moon or any stars as our light. Only the sparkle in his eyes and the dim glow of the world allows me to see, and still make out his indistinct features. We continue walking, with unknown words falling from his lips in silent breaths.

A bed rests in the middle of the path, and he urges me towards it. The headboard is made up of gold twisting vines, shining slightly. A thick white blanket covers the soft mattress in a feathery coat, with visible folds of the fabric that lead the eye to the lace at the bottom of the comforter. Buildings appear around the bed, but are still distanced away with their residents in their own dreamland. I lie down under the blanket as the boy kneels beside of me and tucks the warmth up to my chin.

"Stay," I plea with pain-filled eyes, grasping his large and warm hand tightly in my small one. He replies by kissing my temple gently. His crimson, plump lips are warm, but bitterly cold at the same time. Tears continue to trickle down my face in floods. After giving my hand a final, reassuring squeeze, he walks away and dissolves into the darkness.

The buildings around me seem to close in, getting closer to my sobbing figure. My eyes close, and I make an attempt to block out my surroundings. However, after a while has passed, the boy returns to me. I flutter my eyes open instantly, intertwining my fingers with his. He smiles at me and brushes the loose strands of my dark brown locks out of my eyes, tucking them behind of my ear. His fingertips are soft and warm against my pale skin as they trace outlines over my few freckles.

"One day," he whispers suddenly, always leaving me perplexed with curiosity. After removing the blanket, he lets his eyes roam over the rest of my appearance as they flicker with desire. They travel over my small frame, down to my wrists which have small birds flying, tattooed forever on my flesh. Another tattoo is just above my collarbone, with the word, "Love" engraved in thick, black cursive. The letters twist together, looping around in fascinating curves.

Suddenly, the boy helps me stand up. He asks me something silently with his eyes, which apparently I understand. "They won't allow it," I always reply for an unknown reason. His touch withdraws, and his eyes fill with a flaming anger that seems wild with horror. However, it isn't me that he is angry with. He seems to be mad at the world or at himself for something.

A lady appears, with her long bright hair flowing from side to side with the fresh wind. "You must leave," she always says to me, which causes my sobs to become louder, making my shoulders shrug.

The boy wraps me in his comforting embrace once more, hugging me tightly against him with his large, strong arms. His face contorts with anguish, and he seems terribly upset. The way he holds me feels real and makes me feel as if nothing bad could ever happen. Not in my dream world, nor in my reality world. My eyes lock with his, which shine with an unexplainable bright darkness. His face begins to get closer to mine, and I can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against my lips.

Just before our lips meet, the lady pulls me back and away from him. His arms desperately reach out for me, but the woman pulls me back further and further away from him, increasing the distance. I struggle to call out for him, but I don't even know his name. However, he knows mine. "Marielle." His voice rings in my ears with passion as he calls out my name.

He is suddenly pushed out of my view by an unknown person, and the woman continues to drag me until she pushes me into a large, dark room. The only light surrounds a mirror, which she urges me to walk to.

When I look at my reflection, it is blurry and I can't recognize myself. I hold a paintbrush in my hand, and when I try to draw over the mirror, a girl appears. Her vivid blue eyes glisten like the ocean, with the natural reddish color coating her cheeks. Her dark wavy hair falls and rests upon the top of her shoulders at a layered angle. Few freckles are scattered upon her face, and realization strikes me like lightening. The girl in the mirror is me.

She looks broken. Defeated. Exhausted. Helpless. Yet even behind of all the obvious emotions, a hidden strength brews within her. It pulses through her veins, sending power throughout her whole body.

I hear the boy call my name again. Just as I turn around and rush into his arms, I awaken.

When I wake up, I find that the boy I see every single night in my dreamworld doesn't even exist. He is just an imperfectly perfect fantasy that my heart and mind created, teasing my affections with a loving desire. And instead of resting in a comforting bed, I lay upon the cold and muddy ground of the earth outside. The forest trees linger above me, making their best attempt to shelter me from the bitterly cold wind that blows constantly during the London nights.

Laying back down, I close my eyes and search for the boy in my dreams. However, he is never there until right when the sun sets and my mind begins to sleep. So I rest in the shadows of the trees during the day, occasionally able to go to a small store because of the extra spare change that I saved.

Running away from my family was never exactly what I wanted. However, when your mother is a helpless addict and your father and sister are both dead from a car crash, you don't really think of the effects that running away to London will have. You just want an escape.

So I lay there on the ground, in the middle of October, asking myself how long I will be able to survive while I'm homeless. Asking myself if I should just return back home after two weeks of having barely any food. Asking myself if it's all worth it.

And most importantly, asking myself when I will see the boy that appears in my dreams every single night.