dream: graham/jake
[Graham dreamed often, too often, and the line between awake and asleep was blurred more often than not. And so it was with no real awareness that he found himself within the depths of a familiar house, shadows and loneliness old friends who flanked him on either side. He didn't think it was strange. He recognized nothing out of the ordinary. His footsteps barely made a sound as he stepped out from a room swallowed up in black, and while it was difficult to discern what he wore, there were glimpses of stains that didn't belong, splattered like red paint that turned inky black in the haunting darkness.
A voice. There, just around the corner. He followed. Too late to see the figure of the woman, he appeared where she had been, at the other end of the hall, unaware that he'd taken her place. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out who stood across from him; the boy should be smaller. He was too big. But, in a way, it made sense.] Shouldn't be here. [Hadn't he sent him away?]