Dream of Me

November 11

It's like episodes, I guess, if I needed to describe it further. Episodes of different lives but they're all mine. And they all, somehow, transcend the normal barriers between dream and reality. If I fall down in a dream, the bruises are there in the morning. Situations in each episode affect every other universe that my mind wonders to. I don't know how far it goes yet. I don't know how permanent serious injuries are and I'm afraid to think about what would happen if I were to die in a dream. So far, I wake up before anything extremely terrible happens. A good thing is that, as far as I've been able to tell, nothing from my dreams carries over into this "real" world that has happened to real people here. Sometimes my family or even a few of my friends show up in a dream, but whatever happens to them is not apparent in the morning or the following days. So, for now, it's only me that is affected. And I say "for now" because I still haven't been able to recognize any patterns or explanations. For months, I recorded what worlds I visited on what nights, looking for a pattern or at least something that could reveal just a bit of sense or insight to this... condition? I don't know what to call it. For me, it's reality. No patterns. No system. It's completely random and completely unorganized. It's just how it is, I can't explain it and I like to be able to explain things. This isn't one of those things.

Chapter 8s

"Ah, shit!"

"What's wrong?"

"We're on the edge of a fucking mountain, that's what's wrong!"

"Oh, yeah. Our tent shifted in the night. But it's fine."

"It's fine? You could've told me that before I almost fell to my fucking death straight from the door."

"You're angry. Why?" I was always surprised at these blunt observations and questions about my emotions or personality.

"Because, I could've died! Why would I not be angry? Aren't you supposed to be trying to keep me alive? Letting me know that the tent was right on the ledge before I tried getting out would've been a pretty good tip, you think? Do you even think?"

"Yes, I do. I think."

"Okay, so you think that you think. Whatever, never mind. How about we move the tent so it's not about to fall off a cliff?"

"Okay." My blur partner and I attempted to push the tent away from the ledge from the inside, but it didn't move very far. "I'll just get out and pull it. Don't worry." I let him or her go-still wasn't sure who or what this apparition was. I didn't know if I should've been worried about this being's safety.

"Okay, sure. Tell me when to jump when you're going to pull."

"Okay." He or she pulled and I jumped and eventually the tent was raddled back to a safer area of the plateau. I got out and surveyed the surroundings, waiting for any premonition that might reveal what was going to happen next. I was always on the lookout for anything that could injure me or possibly kill me. An avalanche, a snow monster, another climber, a crevice, anything really. I was more paranoid in this world than the real one. The real one had rules. In the real one, a snow beast wouldn't climb out of a subway station and crush me. In this one, and the others, anything could happen. I didn't want to find out if death crossed the boundaries, but I knew it did.

"August, look." I looked. A car was driving through the snow towards us. A car? Yes, a car. A car had somehow gotten to the top of this mountain that took us days to climb. I didn't question it. It was just what it was.

"A car," I mused.

"Yeah. Wonder what it's doing up here."

"Same." We waited until it got closer. I realized that there were what looked like bullet holes pin cushioning the top of it. It was like the vehicle was swimming towards us, somehow making it through the layers of snow and ice.

"What do you think it's doing?" my partner wondered aloud.

"I have no idea."

"Maybe we should go. I think it's time to go back down the mountain. This doesn't feel right anymore." I agreed it was strange, but I wanted to know what was happening. I wanted to interact with someone that wasn't my blur-faced companion. I wanted to see what was happening here, why I was here, and what the point was. There had to be a goal, or at least something that would take me to a different place in the puzzle. The car stopped and a few men got out, at least they looked like men, I couldn't really tell and the details are pretty fuzzy. The most realistic and vivid memory I had from this night was waking up with my hands on the ledge of an icy ravine, looking down, heart beating faster than I could register, wind biting my half covered, half frozen face. Now, I could hear a muffled conversation from the inhabitants of the car. I think a few other people joined them but I had no idea how or from where they had materialized. I don't remember what they were talking about, but all of a sudden I wondered over to them and blurted out something that I had no understanding of and no inclination to say until I did.

"Maybe the holes are from ice shoe spikes."

"What?" one of the bundled up guys turned to me, "who are you?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd give you an idea. The holes could be from someone stepping on the roof with spiked shoes. You know, the kind for ice climbing."

"Yeah, maybe," he grunted. The lot of them began to shift back and forth, looking from me to each other to my companion that had caught up to me. "What are you two doing up here? And how long have you been around?"

"Just last night. We are climbing the mountain. I think we're going to head down, though. It doesn't seem right anymore," my guide explained in monotone matter-of-factness. Something in the air had changed, and my skin began to crawl in a different way than the temperature had caused.

"Yeah, we'll be going now. Good luck with the car. Or whatever you-" my partner grabbed my arm and we began to back up.

"Alrighty, boys. Maybe we'll catch up with you again."