Page 63 of See You in Your Dreams

Something flickers across his face as his smile turns sad. “If it was always like this, then maybe I would. But I’ve told you how dark it can get.”

“Yeah, but maybe it doesn’t have to. With enough practice, maybe you can learn how to suppress the bad in favor of the good. To enact only those changes you mean to enact.”

We reach the bottom of the steps, pausing beside a trickling stream that runs along where the front hall used to be. I gesture at it. “Like that water, for instance. Can you change it?”

Ash frowns. “Change it how?”

“I don’t know! Make it, um…blood or chocolate or 7-up or…”

I trail off as the clear water shifts from a thick, viscous crimson to a milky brown to a fizzling white, all in quick succession.

“Was that you or me?” I ask dazedly.

Ash shrugs. “Hard to tell. Like I said, we’re in this together. One of us imagined it, so it became reality.”

I shake my head. “That’s really all it takes?”

He nods, his expression turning grim. “That’s why it’s so easy to lose yourself in the dream. When you’re happy, the dream is, too. But if you’re angry or scared or sad…”

Another rumble of distant thunder permeates the room. Beside me, Ash suddenly pales, his eyes widening as his bottom lip trembles.

“Ash?” I ask, my concern spiking. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer or react. It’s as if he doesn’t even hear me. The room darkens, thunder crashing much closer now. An instant later, great sheets of water begin to fall, drenching us in a torrential downpour that leaves our soaked clothes clinging to our bodies. I shiver at the chill permeating me.

“Ash!” I cry, my voice lost to the howling wind. The rain is so thick, I can barely make him out only a foot or two away. “If this is you attempting to make a point, you can stop now—I get it!”

His eyes remain fixed in the distance, seemingly oblivious to everything happening around him. I tug him against me, and his entire body shudders.

“Ash, please, talk to me! What the hell is going on?”

He blinks, finally seeming to notice me. “M-m-mom,” he sobs through chattering teeth. He raises a trembling finger.

Lightning cracks, illuminating the area around us. In the brief flash, I spy a huddled form where his aunt’s couch should be, lying unmoving atop a thorny bed of roses. I take in the pinpricks of blood speckling rotten flesh pierced by thorns before I turn away, my stomach churning with bile.

My grip on Ash tightens. “Listen to me, Ash. That isnotyour mother. This isn’t real—none of it is. We’re dreaming, remember?”

Another shudder ripples through him. “I’m s-so s-sorry, Mom.” He sags in my arms, slipping through my grasp and falling to his knees.

I clench my jaw.Dammit, he’s too lost to his misery to think straight. I need to snap him out of it.

Kneeling before him, I grab the back of his head and tug him toward me until our faces are inches apart. His wide, miserable green eyes regard me.

“You said we create this dream together.” I reach up, cupping his cheek. I can’t tell how much of the wetness there is from the rain and how much is his tears. “That means I get a say in this too, andIsay you’re stronger than this! Don’t let your negative emotions control you. You’re the one in charge here, Ash. Reality is whatwemake it!”

He trembles against me. Almost hesitantly, his shaking hands come up, resting on my sides. “What…we…make it…” he murmurs softly.

The torrential rain slows, the lightning and thunder abating along with his harried breaths. Within the span of a few heartbeats, the sudden storm has cleared, returning his aunt’s living room garden to a pristine summer day.

Relief fills me as I sag against him. “Nice work.”

“Sorry,” Ash says. He takes a shuddering breath. “I can’t believe I let myself get carried away that easily.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” I press a kiss to the matted hair on his forehead. “I was the one who kept pushing you. Maybe it was a bad idea doing this right after you told me about your parents.”

His hand clenches into a fist against my side. “It doesn’t matter. I should be stronger than this.”

“And you will be. That’s why we’re practicing.” I pluck at the soaked shirt clinging to my skin. “Speaking of, any chance you could dry this for me?”