Asleep

50 The Meadow

Charlie~~

After spending Saturday afternoon staring at my pool, reflecting on yet again having to help put dreamers under, I find that when Sunday morning arrives the only person I want to see is Nora. Maybe if I just look at her, I can remind myself that I did it for her, to put her out of her pain and misery. That with or without me those dreamers were going to be put into Somnia.

            There were no Lucid in this batch.

            I didn't have to harm them anymore than I already had.

            When I arrive on her porch, Nora lets me inside, her movements and expression a bit shy, unsure. I can't blame her. I left abruptly Friday night after almost crying about my mother. Nora's probably wondering if she needs to set tissues out.

            Every time I meet her eyes, I have to look away when I see the eyes of the new dreamers reflected in hers. They're just children, looking up at me, pleading and begging with their eyes for help. If she notices my strange behavior, she doesn't voice it.

            Shifting toward the living area, I scratch behind my ear. "I realized that I didn't actually teach you how to create a void."

            "The place I'm not entirely sure I can't get lost or stuck in?"

            "That's the one."

            She claps her hands. "Let's do it."

            I swear my heart lurches at her nonchalance. Is that some sort of pride I feel?

            She holds out her hand, eyes already closed. I seal my hand over hers.

            "Picture it, that black emptiness. How it's neither cold nor hot. It's nothing."

            Nora lets out a slow breath, and the next moment we're both standing in that vast empty place.

            "Open your eyes."

            She cracks them open, only to be greeted by this hollow, bleak realm, and steps closer to me as if she's drawn to the only other force of life—a source of warmth against the loneliness that threatens to creep in through our pores and ice our veins when we slip into this place.

            It's not that it's cold here.

            What seeps in has nothing to do with the temperature. It's fear.

            She shudders. "Is it the same place every time? Like if we both rifted here separately, would we be in the same place?"

            "I don't know. I've always thought of this void as something that you create each time you want it."

"I don't like it. You could trap people here who aren't Lucid." She grimaces. "Okay, last time I created something. It's your turn."

            I don't have to think too hard about what I want to show her.

            The tall grass appears first, swaying in a phantom wind. Next come the flowers in various shades of pinks and purples. Trees that lead into the woods encircle us. The black above us is replaced by a light blue, clouds scattered high throughout it.

            Nora lets go of my hand, dragging her hands over the top of the grass that surrounds us. It comes up to her waist. "What is this place to you?"

            "Long ago dreamers used to wake up here and then would make their way to Somnia."

            "You mean, this isn't in . . .?"

            "It's outside of the fence. I always thought this was a more peaceful transition; though, I suppose tranquility quickly turned to panic when they realized they had no idea what was going on."

            "But there isn't a gate, is there?"

            "There used to be."

            "Is this still a real place?"

            I hold out my hand. "Do you want to see it?"

            Biting her lip, she glances around her at this illusion I've created. "Is your dad going to find out?"

            "No one has any reason to watch the meadow anymore. Not in years."

            With one final feel of the grass, she places her hand in mine, and I close my eyes.

In all previous drafts, the meadow was where Nora woke up in the dream.