Dreams Decieving

Ch. 1

The whole point of a dream extraction was to clear room in our brain. The Doctor had started it 1,000s of years ago, and it has been practiced all this time. When the dreams are cleared, they pump information in to your brain where the dreams were.

I arrived at the dream clinic 15 minutes early, and checked in. I took a seat in one of the waiting chairs they had. I pressed my earlobe, and The Beehive turned on.

"Hello, welcome to The Beehive. What would you like today?" Asked the feminine voice into my ear.
"Inject calming gel" I responded.
"Yes, have a nice day! Tap your ear again to open The Beehive," the automatic voice clicked off, and an injector extruded from the top of my ear. It was thin, not too bulky to mishape my ear. The end was flat, not pointy. It clicked itself into my brain plug, a little button behind my ear with a thin line that the injector could put gel in my brain into, and injected the gel. I could feel my heart slow down almost instantaneously, and the injector returned to its place in my ear.

I picked up a magazine from the small table next to me, and started reading.
The first article was about DreamRecovery Inc., a new gel that is being developed by illegal developers to help recover your dreams. I knew it was all a load of crap. The doctors made sure that they we're gone. When the dreams are extracted, they are put into a gel. In your final days you can put the gel in your injector and watch your dreams over again before the government hacks your Beehive and injects death gel into your brain plug.

"Sylvia, we're ready for you," a nurse called me from my seat. I got up, and walked cautiously to the passage leading to the extraction chair.

I tapped my earlobe again. "More calming gel," I said before the Beehive introduction could start. The injector came out of my ear and pumped more into my brain. My hands stopped shaking, and my pace slowed down. Thank God for calming gel.

"You can sit down in the extractor chair," the nurse man said. The chair looked normal, but it had little needles submerged in the fabric. When you sat down and the doctor gave the signal to their Beehive, the would emerge and poke into your back, and put you to sleep.

I sat down calmly, and the nurse handed me a questionnare. The questions we're simple. Name, date of brain plug insertion, age, things like that. It took me a couple minutes, and I handed the sheet back. I heard footsteps down the hall, and a doctor entered the room.

"Alright, Sylvia. Let's begin."