I could feel the dirt crumbling under my right hand. It was becoming difficult to hold on any longer. I don't even remember how I got into this situation, all I know is that when I opened my eyes and looked up, the ground beneath me was crumbling to piece and the next minute I was holding onto the ledge for my dear life.

The rocks on the edge were cutting into my skin and my hand slowly slipped. I quickly reached up and grabbed the ledge with my left hand just before my hand slipped away. I looked at the ledge I was just holding; blood stained the tips of the rocks. I brought my hand up to my face to see my palm cut and bleeding heavily. The blood had been trickling down my hand and to simply move my hand was painful. I let my arm fall down to my side, trying to focus all my energy on holding myself up. I could feel the blood dripping down my hand, towards my fingers. The drops were now hanging on the tips of my fingers, just about to fall off. I looked down as a few drops left the tips of my fingers. I saw the drops fall a few feet before they were gone.

It was the first time I had looked down since I had started and I began to regret looking down. I could only see a few feet down, up until were the light stopped, beyond that was pure darkness. The fear in me rose even more. I looked up not wanting to see the darkness again. My left hand was now sore from holding on. Yell for help! My mind screamed at me. I hadn't thought about screaming for help because of the all the fear, it was stopping me from saying anything.

I opened my mouth and screamed, but nothing came out. I tried again, screaming at the top of my lungs, but nothing came out. What the hell is going on? I tried one last time. I screamed so hard that my throat hurt, but no sound came out. I stopped, not wanting to waste anymore energy. I was already tired and the attempts to scream were exhausting me. My hand shifted a little, the rocks scraping against my palm and fingertips, ready to cut.

The dirt was starting to slip from beneath my hand. I couldn't get a better grasp on the ledge, my hand slipped. I reached up for the ledge with right hand, shutting my eyes. I could feel only dirt crumble in my hand. I'm dead!

I suddenly felt a hand grab my wrist within split seconds. I grabbed the wrist of the person tightly. The hand pulled me up and over the ledge. I kept my eyes shut as I felt ground underneath my feet once again. I let go of the wrist and grabbed tightly onto their shirt with both hands. I felt their arms wrap around me. There was a feeling of warmth and comfort in this hug. They continued to hug me as they lead me away. My eyes were still shut so I followed them, willing to get away from that ledge.

The person stopped walking. I opened my eyes and looked behind me. There was a tree standing there in the middle of the land with grass growing around it. The only thing visible was the tree. There was absolutely nothing else. I looked behind the person and couldn't see anything more than grass. The cliff was no longer there. I finally looked up at the face of the person who had saved me. I couldn't recognize who it was. The face was familiar, but the name wouldn't come to my mind. It was a guy, with black short black hair. He had a soft and caring look in his eyes that kept me calm even though I didn't know who he was. He was tall and had a strong body, making me feel safe. I let go of his shirt and stepped back a little. I wavered as I tried to gain my balance. He moved forward to grab me, but I stabilized myself. I looked at his shirt. There was a large blood stain from where I was holding it. He looked at my eyes and then looked down at his shirt. His eyes widened and the sight of blood. He looked up at me and then down at my hand. He grabbed my right hand forcefully and opened the fist I had formed. I winced at the pain as he slowly unfolded my hand.

He looked at me wide eyed before making me sit down with him. I sat under the tree holding my hand out as he rip the hem of his shirt off. I looked at him, amazed and curious as to why he did that. He looked up at me and saw me watching his actions. I quickly looked down, embarrassed that he caught me watching even though I did nothing wrong. He grabbed my hand, not as forcefully as before, and opened my fist, the cut opening a little more, beginning to bleed once again. He quickly worked, wrapping the piece of clothing around my hand. I winced in pain as he continued to wrap. It hurt like hell, but I couldn't say anything because he was helping.

I don't even know who he is. Why is he helping me?I looked up at him at to ask the question, but the words just wouldn't come out. He was carefully wrapping, making sure to cover every part that was cut. The concentration could be seen in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip and he paid attention to every little detail of the material and my hand.

He looked up at me and smiled. I was surprised at his actions, but then noticed that he had already finished, securing the material tightly around my hand with a knot. I looked up at him and smiled. As I went to say thank you, he took me into his embrace and hugged me tightly. I was surprised. I wasn't expecting such a thing. I couldn't say anything at all to him. The words just wouldn't form in my mouth.

He pushed me back a little, holding my arms, and looked at me. He then leaned forward; bring his lips closer and closer to me. He left a soft kiss on my forehead. It felt like my forehead was burning in the spot where his lips were. He stood back and smiled at me. I could feel my cheeks go red. He hugged me tightly once again. Warmth spread right through me, starting from my chest, my heart, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth and comfort

I slowly opened my eyes and looked ahead. I could see my alarm clock with the numbers 7:03 brightly lit up. I sat up and looked around me. I was sitting in my room, on my bed. The sun was peeking in through the blinds. It was Minho. I put my hand on my chest. I could still feel that warm feeling spreading through my body. It was as if it had all really happened. I wish it could true. To be held by Minho so close to his body, to have his arms around me, protecting me from the world when I feel insecure. It would be so wonderful. I thought as I put my arm back down onto the bed.

"I want to sleep and dream for a few minutes more" I whined as I pulled the covers off of me and swung my legs over the edge of my bed. As I stood up I felt a sharp pain on my right hand. I quickly looked down at my hand. There was nothing there, but the pain felt similar to the cut on my hand from the dream. I poked around at where the cut was in my dream and felt the pain slowly fading away. Strange! I thought as I got out of bed.

----

"Hyung! Your shirt!" Taemin yelled as Minho's shirt hem got caught onto a chair.

"What?" Minho asked turning around causing the hem to rip, "Shoot" he said as he attempted to pull the snagged piece of clothing off. It did no good as the material continued to rip until it was no longer attached to the shirt. Minho grabbed the piece of limp cloth and stretched it out. It was now just a long white strip. He looked carefully at the strip and noticed a red spot on it. He touched the red spot and it felt wet, but when he looked at his finger, there was nothing there. He looked back at the strip, but could no longer find the red spot. Strange. Kind of like my dream....

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