"I'm sorry" The voice of the child rang out, trembling.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he repeated, his voice a whisper against the encroaching darkness, swallowed by the void.

With a sudden, sharp slap, he was silenced. His tiny hand clutched his swelling cheek as tears streamed freely down his face.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his body quaking in fear.

From the shadows before him, dark hands reached out, encircling his neck with an icy grip.

"You did it." You did it rasped a voice.

The poor boy shook his head, "Sorry," he said.

Another slap rang out, sharp and jarring, intense and painful.

"You did it." The voice accused, grabbing hold of the child's hair.

The boy struggled, his small body writhing against the relentless grip as more hands emerged from the darkness, reaching for him.

"I'm sorry!" he screamed.

⁎

I jolted awake, eyes wide, heart pounding. My breaths became ragged, chest heaving. Blood dripping freely from my mouth

Cold sweat clung onto my skin, framing my face. I wiped the sweat and blood away, yet the chill persisted.

I turned my head to the left, there he was that boy from my dream, bruised and bloodied. His small face decorated by cuts, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, staining his white shirt red. Yet, despite it all, a sweet smile curled on his lips.

It was me.

"Bad dream?" He rasped, voice barely a whisper.

I gave him no answer. tears welled, blurring my vision.

Forgive me.

"Don't be sad," he murmured, his smile sweet and bright. "You're not the one who did it," he continued.

Forgive me.

His small hand reached for mine, and there I saw his fingers, twisted and bruised. Yet, he held onto me, tightly, nonetheless.

Forgive me.

My body trembled; tears fell freely.

"Forgive them." The boy whispered.

I shook my head, "I can't" and replied.

At my words the boy sighed, his broken thumb wiped a tear away.

"Let me go," He whispered.

"How?" I asked and coughed out blood.

"Let it go" He answered.