Dean, until he turned twenty one, was the boy without dreams. When they parents sang him goodnight, and he fell in deep sleep, his mind was…just a blind spot. Somedays black. Somedays white. And somedays, something he couldn´t remember when he woke up.
But when his dad died, the day after the tragedy, he started having the well know nightmares. For the first time. And they felt real, just like daggers on his chest.
The big house his dead parent bought when Dean was ten was just giving him more mental issues. More bad dreams. So the solution for the depressed guy was to move somewhere else.
And he did so. Far away from his natal neighborhood. In the other half of the city, in a totally different society class, with different people, places, habits, and almost everything.
But the place he thought that was going to shelter him was the complete opposite. It was where the rich part of the world lived. But not the normal one. The ones who, with money, hide from all their problems, sickness, and sins.
They were similar to Dean, in some kind of aspect. Broken people, who were trying to recollect again their little pieces. But they had something he didn´t have. And didn´t even knew.
They had the key of hiding.