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    A Dylena Story

    Story written on March 22, 2011 by joeycat.
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    54 votes, average: 2.85 out of 554 votes, average: 2.85 out of 554 votes, average: 2.85 out of 554 votes, average: 2.85 out of 554 votes, average: 2.85 out of 5 (54 votes, average: 2.85 out of 5)
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    Character(s): N/A
    Number of Comments: 1
    Words: 1289
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=77088
    Author Notes:

    A Dylena story, Chapter 5, part 2: The next morning, Dylan’s POV

    Previously:

    Danny: “All of them, settled out of court. Pay offs from her mother. You still think she cares about you? I bet all those other women thought she cared too. You think she’d still fund our film if you rejected her? Think about it, Dyl. Shoalin doesn’t do documentaries, so why would they start now. You’re just another one of many. You’re a conquest to her Dylan. That’s all. Do you want that? Are you going to let her use you like that?”

    That’s how he ended our argument. He left his final question hanging in the air for me to think about. “Are you going to let her use you like that?” As he was heading back into the bedroom, I laid my body against the corner of the couch and put my head down. He turned the light off as he left the room, leaving me there, alone in the dark.  I close my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

    Dylan’s dream

    I look around and see nothing but blackness. It’s black everywhere. I can’t see anything. My back and side are against something hard. Where am I? The floor I’m sitting on is cold. I’m cold. Shivering, I reach out in the dark desperately with my hands to try and find something, anything to use to warm me up. I can’t see anything. I feel the ground against the palms of my hands. My hands are moving the dirt as I feel around. I carefully begin reaching my hands out even further in front of me being careful to not make any noise. The fingers of my right hand touch something soft, I feel for more of it. It feels like a rug, no softer, a blanket maybe. I’m so cold. I don’t care whether it’s a rug or a blanket. It’s big enough to cover me. That’s all that matters. At the same time I pull it towards me, I also pull my knees to my chest and then wrap the material I found around me and move back into the corner. I’m still shivering, but I feel just a little warmer and more importantly protected with it covering me. My stomach hurts. I’m hungry.

    Eight year old Dylan: “Momma?”……“Momma?”………..(thinking)no, no, I have to be quiet, she told me to be quiet. Momma said I have to stay here and be as quiet until she got back. I remember Momma.

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    Comments

    1. Wow thank you for your kind words about my story. I shall be posting chapter 2 in a short while. Just a little bit of editing. Anyway I’m guessing from Dylan’s re-occurring he mom never comes back for her. And Danny is the only person that’s made her feel safe since then, until Helena. I like that we see the in between bits until Helena gets her injunction against her well that’s what they call it in England lol. If that does happen here. Great update can’t wait for more. Caramel

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