The Dream That Shouldn’t Be Real

There are specific rules in life... and when you break them, something always breaks back.

Arthur jolted awake.

His body was soaked in sweat. He gasped, clutching the bedsheet as if his life depended on it. His heart was pounding like a drum, loud enough that he could hear it in his ears.

The bedroom door creaked open.

“Arthur?” his younger sister called out. “What’s with you?”

He blinked, breathing hard. “Nothing. Just... a bad dream.”

She frowned, arms crossed. “Come on downstairs. Mom’s calling.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

He wiped his face and looked around, trying to shake the haunting images still fresh in his mind.

What was that dream...?

He walked down the stairs, still groggy.

“Mom, what is it?” he asked.

His mother turned toward him, unimpressed. “Do you know what time it is?”

Arthur scratched his head. “It’s... eleven?”

“It’s eleven in the morning. Just because it's Sunday doesn’t mean you skip meals. Not eating on time is bad for your health.”

“That’s right! Tell him, Mom!” Mio chimed in from the corner of the room.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You little rat.”

Mio just grinned and kept eating.

Still half-asleep, Arthur dragged himself to the bathroom. He stared into the mirror with a blank expression as he brushed his teeth, the remnants of the dream still echoing in his skull.

He eventually sat down to eat, taking slow bites while thinking.

“Mom, I’m heading out to get some clothes.”

“Okay,” she said. “Buy me some kitchen gloves while you’re at it.”

“Sure.”

Dressed in a white shirt, blue denim jacket, black jeans, and sneakers, Arthur stepped out into the street.

It was a quiet road, the kind where time seemed to move slower. A few people passed by, chatting. Cars rolled past every now and then. The air was calm. Peaceful.

Arthur walked down the sidewalk and eventually reached a small clothing shop called Rabbit. It was mostly empty.

He stepped inside.

Something felt... off.

Everyone inside looked tense. Some were sweating. Eyes darted around nervously.

Arthur frowned. What’s going on...?

He turned instinctively—just in time for a man in a black mask to grab him.

“Wha—!”

The masked man yanked Arthur back into the shop and slammed a fist into his face.

Pain burst through his skull. His vision blurred.

And then, darkness.

Arthur woke up groggy, tied up.

His hands were bound behind him. His head throbbed. Around him were people—middle-aged adults, students, all of them crying quietly.

To his right sat a little girl. Maybe seven. Black hair. White shirt. Blue jeans. White shoes. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

“Where’s my mom?” she cried. “I want to see her! You took her! Where is she?!”

A black-masked man stomped over and grabbed her by the hair.

“I said shut up, or I’ll kill you!”

She screamed and hit him with her tiny fists.

“Where is my mom?! Tell me!!”

The man slapped her across the face and threw her to the ground like trash.

Arthur's blood boiled.

Why is no one doing anything?

He looked around. No one met his eyes. No one moved.

They were all frozen in fear.

The man raised his leg to kick the girl in the face.

“Stop it!” Arthur shouted. “She’s a kid! Leave her alone! If you took her mother, bring her back! We’re all hostages, right? So bring her too!”

The girl looked up at him with tear-soaked eyes.

The masked man turned.

And marched toward Arthur.

Punches rained down on his face. Blood spattered across the floor. His teeth cracked. His lip split.

“Please... stop…” he gasped.

The girl crawled over and grabbed the man’s leg. “Please! Stop hitting him!”

The man growled, grabbed her face, and slammed her to the floor.

“You talk too much,” he snarled at Arthur.

Then he did something sickening.

He forced Arthur’s mouth open.

Pulled his tongue out.

Shoved it between his teeth.

And grabbed his jaw.

“No... no—”

The masked man pushed—hard.

Arthur screamed as blood erupted from his mouth. His tongue tore halfway, the right side barely attached.

He collapsed to the floor, gasping. Blood pooled around him.

Why is this happening...? What did I do...?

I can’t feel my tongue... My head... it’s splitting...

Mom… Mio… I’m going to die here.

Please… someone… anyone… save the girl.

The door slammed open.

Someone entered.

A blur of motion. A punch landed on the masked man’s face.

Arthur’s vision was fading.

She’ll be safe now...

His eyes fluttered shut.

Then... opened again.

He was still lying there.

But the girl's head... was on the floor beside him.

Her body wasn’t there.

Just... her head.

His hand reached out, trembling. He placed it gently on top of her head.

“...I’m sorry.”

Then everything went dark.

Arthur woke up with a scream.

He sat up in bed, drenched in sweat.

He looked at his hands. They were shaking.

He clutched his chest.

Was it... a dream?

A loud voice echoed from downstairs.

“Arthur! Wake up already!”

He turned to the door.

His sister stood there.

He stared at her, wide-eyed.

“Mio...”