Where Are You? Please Save Me From My Nightmare

Chapter 1 - What Is Reality, What Is Dream?

     “I am so so sorry…” “I have let you guys down.” “If fate has it let them live and take me instead, but if not let us meet in another life.” “Pray we can be friends again.” “Above all else no matter how many times we have disagreed I have and will always love you.”

     White light. Darkness. Coldness. Loneliness. Jim woke up from what seemed to be a hazy dream of himself being a captain of some futuristic ship. There were voices that sounded like his own when he woke up but he could not place them nor who he was talking about or to. He was alone like always in the dark, damp, dreary abandoned house in the poorest part of London. As his memory began to set back into reality he began to stand up to get off the cold ground. His dreams never gave him the warmth of being loved, courage, feeling needed or wanted before since all of his dreams were crushed along the way. His dad died in a ship accident, he ran away from home as a small boy and though smart and able was not allowed to enlist in the army to get a chance at a better life. He walked over to the small bucket in the corner of the gray room that was used to catch water when it rained which it had been raining for quite a few days now. He cupped his hands into the bucket and splashed his face to refresh himself. He ran his fingers through his messy honey blonde hair. As he paced through the room he wondered if his dream was really a dream and this was his reality. It all seemed so real to him even if it was highly futuristic. Victorian era London did not have ships that could fly to distant “lands”, guns that did not shoot bullets or even the structure the cities in his dream had.

     The air was getting tense so Jim decided to take a walk outside to clear his head. The air was cold and crisp against his dirty skin. The world around him was dark, dirty and desolate. He walked by people who always looked down upon him and saw poor boy who just got into trouble. He kept his head down to avoid the glances. His memory was still a haze. He could not remember the last time he fell asleep but it was like his body knew what it was doing and what to feel. He could not shake that this felt fake as if someone planted this feeling inside of him to cover some long lost fantasy up. He just let his feet do the walking and ended up on a pier overlooking the channel. As he thought and thought it began to make sense that his dream was just a figment of his wishes and wants. Life was life and dreams just get in the way of reality and drive you insane. Leaving the pier he looked through the trash for something to eat since he was famished and light headed. All he could manage was some old bread which will have to do. What was I thinking for even considering that I have a better reality elsewhere instead of this nightmare? Passing by the pier again he looked into his reflection in the water.  All he saw was a street boy dressed in clothes that were… no not clothes, those were much nicer than these rags. Snow began to fall as he started his walk back to the house he inhabited even if it was a danger to him. He had nowhere else to go and it was in the dead of winter.

      Jim walked past Dr. McCoy’s office. He was a miracle worker amongst doctors is the word on the streets even if he is new to the area. As the office passed him Jim bumped into someone. “Sorry” was what he was going to say but as he looked at the stranger something inside Jim made him feel reminiscent of some dream. The man was tall and gave Jim a cold condescending look down. Dark brown eyes met vibrant blue but not with a friendly intent but annoyance and held back ill temper. Jim was put off by this man for some reason even though the look was common. He saw the jet black hair that the top hat hid and the pristine suit that matched the hat. If not for the ill glance the man gave he would be quite attractive for a man in Jim’s opinion. As Jim began to turn around he fell to the ground hard with a body lying on top of him. The curly mop looked up at Jim with embarrassment and shock.

      “Oh sorry sir! My fault completely! Are you ok?” The young boy said in such a thick Russian accent it was hard for Jim to understand for a moment.