After dinner, I took a shower and met Clay in his room, who tossed me some shorts and a huge t-shirt.

"You can change in the bathroom," he told me, and I nodded.

When I put the shirt on, I immediately noticed that Clay's scent was very strong. I wondered if he'd been wearing it today, or if it was just the laundry detergent he used.

I rubbed my eyes, struggling to stay awake. Clay saw me stumbling out of the bathroom in the shirt, and probably realized how tired I was.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed." He led me over to his bed, and pulled the blanket up, motioning for me to get in.

"Isn't this yours?" I mumbled. "The guest bedroom..."

"It's fine," he said. "I'll sleep there."

I lay down, sighing at the comfort of the mattress. Much better than a brick wall.

I heard Clay leave and turn the light off, and I drifted off to sleep.

••••••••••

The boy scrambled up to his parent's door, screaming for them to wake up. He coughed as the smoke swept into his lungs, and then felt arms grab him by the shoulders.

He turned around, and firefighter was picking him up, and leaving. He screamed, that his parents were still in there, that they had to go back.

The next thing he knew, he was outside, watching his home crumble down in flames.

He was transported into a different home. His foster home, the last one he'd had before running away at fourteen. He flinched as the pounding of the door of his room grew louder, the stench of beer suffocating his lungs.

The door flew open, and-

I woke up, gasping for air, as if the smoke was still choking me. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and Clay opened the door, looking alarmed.

"Are you all right? I heard you screaming."

I nodded, sweat dripping down my forehead. "It was just a nightmare."

"About what?" Clay asked concerningly. "You were yelling pretty loudly."

"My old foster home, it-" I froze. Oh no.

Clay furrowed his eyebrows. "Foster home? You're a foster child?"

I opened my mouth, panicking. "Um, no. I dreamt that I was a foster child, and.."

"No, you're lying," Clay said firmly. "I knew something was off, is it your foster parents?"

I stayed silent, shaking my head. I didn't know how to save myself from this.

"Clay! Breakfast!" I heard a lady call, and took the chance. I got out of bed, and hurried out the door.

"I'm starving," I called back to Clay. "Let's go."