The Person in the Dream

Lying in bed with his eyes open, Tom felt a pang of regret. The windows of the detention room were too high and too small for him to see the stars in the night sky. He knew perfectly well the Old Headmaster was lying to him; the dead don't become stars, they leave nothing behind. But that didn't matter.

He'd rather deceive himself, just to escape that suffocating sense of loneliness. "Why do people have to die? It would be so good if there was no death..."

Sighing, he closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He needed sleep. Only by sleeping could he escape this vexation.

Walking through a patch of fog, Tom was quite used to this kind of dream. Sometimes he'd dream of the same scene: always a hazy mist, obscuring his surroundings. He just had to keep walking forward, and a woman with an ordinary face and pale complexion would appear.

Look, there she is.

Tom stopped, standing before the woman who was staring blankly at his face. Though he was reluctant, he had to admit that the woman before him was his birth mother. He didn't even know his mother's name. In his dreams, it had always been like this for years.

"Perhaps you loved Father, not me."

Tom reached out to touch his smooth skin, puffing out his cheeks. Only now did he show his childish side, though he was, in fact, a child. He tapped his finger in the air, as if touching a hard, cold wall. Tom frowned and sat down, leaning against it.

"Are you really my mother? You're as still as a statue. You won't even hug me in my dreams? What kind of person was Father... Was he an elegant, handsome gentleman like the ones I see on the street? Or a complete scoundrel?"

"No... he must have been a perfect gentleman. After all, I'm a little gentleman, aren't I~ Are you both dead? Is that why you left me here alone? Well, talking to myself is truly boring..."

Tom's eyeballs moved on the hard bed. He reluctantly opened his eyes. The dream was indeed dull, but it was still much better than being alone. Being stared at intently had been quite repulsive at first, but after getting used to it, it didn't matter anymore.

After his detention ended, Tom returned to his room. He opened a cabinet and took out a tin box, throwing in the 'trophies' brought by the little snakes. He didn't know which one started it, forcing him to collect this garbage.

"Haa... always causing trouble for me..."

He walked into the kitchen and found no food left. Tom poured a glass of hot water and sat on a stool, sipping it slowly. Fortunately, he had hidden a piece of bread to eat last night, otherwise, his stomach would be hurting again. In these past few years, he had only saved five and a half pennies.

I wonder when I'll have a chance to increase my savings~

"Riddle! Tidy up and gather in the courtyard!" Mrs. Cole found him in the kitchen, wrinkling her nose in disgust. If it weren't for his good looks, she wouldn't have let the damned thing follow her.

She stepped forward and pinched Tom's chin. Mrs. Cole saw the wound by his mouth and 'tsk'ed before releasing her hand. "If you dare cause trouble for me, I'll punish you severely later! Don't keep that gentleman waiting. Go put on your best clothes."

He lowered his eyes and obediently agreed. Tom stood up and walked back. After turning a corner, he rubbed his face hard with his sleeve. He felt like throwing up again.