Fever Dream

Chapter 3: Routine, Control And The Hidden Threat

I got off the bus and approached my former school. Everything was just as I remembered it, the steel fence, the trees, the walls painted green and the transparent awning that hung above the entrance. It felt surreal in the sense that it was so static, that despite all that had happened little had changed here. For a moment, I felt a fleeting sense of bliss as my mind hearkened back to a better time. That sense evaporated a moment later, only to be replaced by a pang of nostalgia.

I squeezed through an opening in the fence (that had not been fixed) and walked through the entrance into the foyer. I wandered around, letting my feet take me wherever they wanted. Eventually, I found myself in front of my fourth grade classroom. I quietly opened the door and walked in.

Contrary to the school's exterior, a lot had changed. Tables were no longer arranged in rows, but in groups. The curtains had been replaced and the metal file cabinet at the back was replaced by a brightly coloured rack. Yet, memories still lingered in every square metre of the room. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander once more.

***

Past memories: April 2015

6AM - Wake up, wash up, dress

630AM - Walk to the bus stop

640AM - Bus arrives

7AM - Reach school

3PM - Leave school

I was no longer a drifter. It was as if a spell had been broken. Everyday, I woke up brimming with purpose, with a sense that something good was going to happen. I would go through the same motions everyday, locked into a routine that gave me hope and stability. It felt surreal, being able to somewhat predict and control my own life. All of that made me feel powerful, made me feel that I was self-aware.

I didn't know how that happened. It was as if all of the aspects of my life had coalesced into a routine and my eyes had been opened. This was the start of a new page in my life.

***

Thinking back, starting a routine wasn't as big of an achievement as I used to think it was. Still, I couldn't deny that being aware of a routine was the catalyst that edged my life along a better trajectory. It taught me that I could shape my own fate.

I went out of the classroom and walked along the corridors, trying to pick out what had changed during the time I was gone. Some walls had been repainted and the posters were changed. The computer lab appeared to have been refurbished. It felt paradoxical; I seemed to know where everything was, but when I looked for the little details that brought a sense of familiarity, they were gone.

***

Past memories: September 2015

"Don't make too much noise," I told Ben as I tried to find a way to pry open the windows of the computer lab.

I reached for my Swiss army knife and extended the metal file. I wedged it between two window panels and used it as a lever to push the panels apart.

"Now pull," I whispered into Ben's ear.

He inched the panel towards him. I adjusted the panel and slid it open smoothly.

"Time to go right in."

We heaved ourselves onto the ledge and leaped into the room.

"Breached outer walls of the enemy fortress, now accessing data bank," said Ben.

His imagination always added a layer of fun and whimsy to our 'missions'.

"Covering all tracks," I said, playing along.

I slid the window panel shut and forced the locking mechanism back in place. We then crept over to the back row and powered up two computers there.

"Assuming control of enemy robo-soldiers," said Ben, opening up a website where we could play Forward Assault.

"Copy. Assuming control of Team-24, hacking into mainframe," I said.

***

If there is one adage that almost always seems to hold true, it would be 'everything has a price'. An ability, or any kind of situation in general, would always have long-term effects that might not be desired. Ben's ability to imagine and immerse himself in any kind of reality was amazing in its own right. At first, I deeply enjoyed playing along with it, and it was the factor that bound us together. Although I was not able to dream like Ben could, the idea of spiriting myself away in an alternate reality seemed like a very attractive method of escapism.

However, this innocent sounding hobby of ours began to show its malice later on. Slowly, I began to suspect that someday, the shit was going to hit the fan. It was like watching the thunderclouds heap rain upon a nearby neighbourhood, knowing full well that you were only spared for a minute.

***

Past memories: March 2016

"Stay on course!" I shouted, as I gripped the handlebars of my bike with greater force.

"Copy!" shouted Ally. "Cycling in a thunderstorm with you and Ben was a mistake!"

"Well, I didn't like the idea too!" I yelled back. "Blame Ben!"

I turned back, expecting Ben to say something to defend himself. But all I saw was him cycling forward, trying to catch up with us. I turned back and focused on leading Ally and Ben back to our refuge (random bus stop). Rain pelted against my face, making it nearly impossible to see anything clearly.

A strong gust of wind blew from the right, nearly sending my bike barreling into the drain. A blinding flash of lightning seared the skies ahead.

When I turned back to look at how Ally and Ben were doing, I caught a glimpse of Ben's face as he looked upwards at the clouds for a moment.

His face was blank and he seemed oddly calm despite the chaos around him. But beneath that mask of self-control I could see him screaming softly, inaudible due to how loud the storm was. It was as if he was taming a convoluted, rippling mass of angst inside him.

As I continued cycling forward, a question rooted itself inside my head.

What was really going on inside Ben, behind those vivid fantasies? And how was I oblivious to this fact for so long?