This Reality

3: The Dream

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Colours, streams of them. Stars, shapes, kaleidoscopic patterns are projected onto the screens of their eyelids. I don't dream, I just see theirs; I am their subconscious. Sometimes I wish I could have dreams of my own.

When I see dreams, I can usually guess information about the people that appear simply by looking into their minds. But this time it's different. I can see into the sleeping child's mind, and I suddenly know all about them. They are a girl. She is sixteen years old, almost an adult. Her name is Astrid. It immediately strikes me that I probably know more about her than she knows about herself.

She sees a person in her dream. Their appearance is unclear but a necklace around their neck stands out against their skin. I can now see into their mind. They are a man. His name is Jax. He is twenty six years old. He owns the silver necklace.

She envisions another person, a woman this time. She has a gun. I can once again notice information about her. She is twenty four years old. Her name is Milla. She owns the gold gun.

They see one more person. Not a man or a woman, just a person. They are holding nothing and they give nothing away. They own nothing. But they know something.

The sleeping girl wakes up with a start. She clutches her head, she seems to be in pain. Ah, the remembering process can be a painful experience. That must mean it's all coming back to her! That can't happen! If she remembers, she might want to get out. If she gets out, she might meet people, and she will become involved in things, terrible things. Keeping her here is the only way to keep her safe, and I want to protect her. I am her subconscious, of course.

As I am pondering whether that means I am wanting to protect myself or her, since we are the technically the same person because I am her subconscious, and while I am questioning my own possibly selfish morals, she stands up.

She walks to the middle of the room and stands under the trapdoor and takes a good look. It's wooden, painted white and attached to the ceiling with four bolts, only three of which remain.

I really want her to escape, I really do, but I can't let her be free. There are evil people out there, and she will either be hurt by them, or be hurt fighting them. It sounds awful, and honestly it is, but I would rather she was driven mad locked up in here than she was hurt out there by the Leaders.

A sudden noise of exclamation interrupts my thought, and my attention is brought to Astrid, kneeling down by a small tray on the floor. On the tray is a sandwich, a glass of water, and a note that reads "Eat up!" Puzzled, she picks up the note and searches for any clues as to who could have left it. Nothing. After having been unconscious for five days and therefore not eating anything, she gratefully picks up the sandwich and eats. Who left it here? How did it get here overnight? There is only one way out- the trapdoor.

When she is done, she picks up the water and drinks it on her way to the other side of the room where the device is on the wall. She prods the screen, hoping for a reaction. Nothing. She taps some keys and touches the screen again. Frustrated, she hits the screen quite hard. As she is rubbing her knuckles in pain she hears a faint tinkling sound and spins around. Three screws lay on the ground. Two more had fallen! Yes, Astrid thinks. No, I think. One more screw and she's got a way out!

She goes back over to the device and stands really close to it. She moves her hand close to it, ready to tap the screen again in hopes of removing the final screw, but as her finger is merely an inch away, the screen flickers on. On the screen is a head, a pale and ghostly face with closed and hollow eyes. Horrified and scared, Astrid screams and jumps away.

The face on the screen opens its eyes.