Reverie [Bruno Mars - Editing]

Chapter nine

Chapter nine

I was sitting uncomfortably in my mom's velvet chair behind her desk, with a thick slice of brown bread and a cup of tea in front of me. It felt like I was violating my mom's privacy, the secret of hers, but maybe I had a right to know. Still, sitting where I'm sure she spent hours pondering made me feel a little uneasy. I then felt a sharp blade of sadness: she already felt like a stranger to me.

Joseph was waiting for me to finish the bread he had given me, and the tea, saying he wasn't going to give me anymore information until I had eaten. “We can't let you starve,” he had said when I objected. The bread was soft, thick, cakey. The tea tasted herbal, like something straight out of nature. Where did they even get their food? They practically lived in the middle of a desert. I actually wasn't that surprised, I don't think anything could surprise me anymore.

Fortunately, in the middle of eating awkwardly in front of Joseph, he left, telling me he'll be right back. I was all alone.

The silence was welcoming. The sun was setting and its brilliant gold light made the room look like it was on fire. The bookshelves cast long shadows across the furniture and walls as the sun melted its way into the red sand. I felt a sudden urge to look around. There was a bedside table next to the bed, three drawers. And there was another door next to the table, possibly a closet. Maybe I could find something important. But before I could make my decision Joseph came back, a box tucked under his arm and a chair in the other. I stood up.

“You might want to sit back down,” Joseph said, pulling the chair up to the desk and placing the box down in front of me. It was about the size of a shoebox, brown wood, nothing special to look at. “There is much to explain.”

I silently sat back down. This is what I've been waiting for. An explanation. For everything. “What's the box for?”

“Later,” was all he said, as silence overcame us. Joseph was tapping his fingers along the desk. I waited for him to start speaking. He paused his finger drumming, looking at me as though suddenly realizing where he was. “Where do I begin?”

“Well, I don't know.” I was getting impatient. “How about the beginning?”

A smile skittered over Joseph's lips. “Everyone here is born a Sleepwalker. The Sleepwalkers are the Incurses' workers—the people in suits I'm sure you saw when you first arrived here.”

“When you dumped Bruno and me on the floor while we were unconscious? Yeah, I remember them.”

“No need to be bitter, Adrian.” Joseph ran a hand through his dark hair. “I know it's a lot to take in—”

“It is.” I was getting more frustrated by the second. “Please just tell me whatever it is you have to tell me.”

He stared at me for a moment before beginning. “It happens randomly, open minds. It's not something that runs through family bloodlines. Sometimes it does though, most of the times it doesn't. In your case, it does. Because of that, there's a ritual done every time a child is born. Something to ensure that they can be easily controlled and is bound to this place, so leaving is never an option. The ritual only shows in your adult life, so we wouldn't know if you have an Open Mind up until you're eighteen, sometimes younger, when you start to rebel.”

“So.” I contemplated everything I just heard, my mind racing. “That's what happened to my parents?”

“You're parents were very intelligent,” Joseph answered. “They figured out how to trick the system.”

“They acted as if they weren't Open Minded, when they really were,” I said slowly, the pieces fitting together in my mind.

Joseph nodded, opening his mouth to say something witty, I could tell by the amused look he was giving me, but I stood up abruptly, almost knocking the chair down before he could say anything. Millions of images were rushing by in my mind, they were almost blurs. Teenager Mom meeting up with a teenager Dad in secret; teenager Mom and Dad faking an unfocused look in the eyes; teenager parents escaping from this place, with teenager Mom's stomach slightly swollen. But could it all be true? Maybe it was all a lie. This room, this place. But why would they go through so much trouble just to bring me here? Why am I here? To deal with my parents' past?

I was so overwhelmed that I hadn't realized I paced to a random spot in front of the bookshelf until now. A thin leather bound book caught my eye. I reached for it—

But Joseph had already caught up to me. He grabbed my wrist, his reflexes so fast I hadn't even seen him move, stopping me from retrieving the book. His touch was so cold it burned and I flinched away from him. Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a second. “I think,” he said. “I think you've had enough for today.”

I was glancing from him to the book. He stopped me from reaching it. It must be something he doesn't want me to see. I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “No, I'm okay. Go on. You said my parents were Sleepwalkers?”

Joseph gave a quick shake of his head. “It's getting late. I wasn't supposed to tell you this much, anyway. We'll continue this conversation some other day.”

“No.” I was on the verge of screaming. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest, I could hear it in my ears. I didn't know what was going on with me. “I mean—let's just finish—I want to know. I need to know.”

Joseph's hand circled around my arm. His grip was too tight for me to pull away. “Come on.”

He pulled me out of the room and into the darkness of the hallway. The slamming of the doors were so hard the fire on the walls momentarily went out, leaving us in complete and utter darkness for a split second before they sputtered with life again. I jerked my arm from Joseph's icy grip. He let me go, stalking ahead. I had no choice but to follow. “Tell me,” I said, almost jogging to keep up with his long strides. “Were my parents the first ones? To leave this place?”

Joseph kept forward. “First ever in recorded history. Not the only ones.”

I closed my eyes, the first ever in history to escape. My parents. Is it that difficult to leave here? And my parents weren't the only ones who escaped? Who else? How many? When I opened them, Joseph was staring at me, his face unreadable. “There must be a reason why,” I quietly said. “As to why they left.”

Joseph started back walking. I did too. “Because they were two people who didn't know how lucky they had it?” He scoffed. “Yeah. That must be the reason.”

“You don't know them,” I said defensively. “Never met them. How could you know?”

“Apparently, you don't know them either.”

That sent a flare of anger to rise up inside of me. I didn't push it down this time, wanting to let go of all the rage I was feeling because of not knowing, because of all the explanations that aren't being given to me, for feeling so lost. “Oh right.” I couldn't keep the sarcasm from dripping in my voice. “I know why they left. Because they didn't see how fun it is to control people's minds: they saw how corrupt this place is. Mind control? What kind of sick people are you?”

Joseph stopped walking, turning around to face me. We stared at each other, his eyes so dark with fury I fought to cower away. Then his balled fists loosened, his jaw unclenched, and his face fell hauntingly calm. He stepped forward, and to my disbelief a door miraculously slid open behind him, in the middle of the hallway wall, in between two flames of fire. Joseph roughly grabbed my shoulders, pushing me inside the dark room. I whirled around, my eyes wide. “What are you—”

“This is the kind of sick people we are,” he sneered with his lip curled upward before sliding the door shut in my face.

I pounded my fists on the door, screaming. When I heard Joseph's footsteps fade away until I could no longer hear them, I stopped, turning around and placing my back against the door. My breathing was hard and my hands ached and burned. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what these people wanted from me. But I did know one thing: I had to find my way back to Bruno.

I just didn't know how.