It had been a week since Frank arrived at his new school and somehow managed to befriend me. Today in school he had suddenly asked me if we wanted to spend the afternoon together because otherwise he would be home alone until tomorrow, so we agreed on him staying overnight.

After school I was extremely anxious, fixing up my room and preparing the matress for Frank to sleep on.

We had never visited each others homes before, so I had no idea what his room looked like. I hoped he would like mine.

My room was pretty dark, having only one small window.
Posters of Comics and a few of my own sketches plastered across the white walls.

A small desk, covered with art supplies and paper, a closet and my bed plus the extra matress that barely fit inside. But it was enough for me, as long as I had my drawings.

He finally ringed our door and all my anxiety simply vanished when he smiled at me warmly. First I was nervous, of course, but as soon as he started asking me about my Posters I loosened up and we talked about bands and comics.

The evening came way too fast and we had to lay down and sleep.
I stayed awake as long as possible, watching Frank drift off into sleep after a while.

I tried to distract myself with drawing, but I was so tired.

I hadn't slept properly in weeks, the fear of having a bad dream again made me stay wide awake usually, but unfortunately this night it didn't.
I felt my head grow heavy and the pens slipped from my grip.

I couldn't resist it anymore.

The next thing I remembered was waking up screaming, something clutching my throat and started kicking the sheets, trying to hold onto something, to make it stop.

I can't breathe