When Dreams Consume Reality

01. Secret Assassins & Strange Phonecalls

It was like a routine-- the rolling hills, which I assure you were nowhere similar to the bare ones that surrounded our town; then there was the pristine lake, its waters rippling in a rhythmic manner and finally everything would vanish, only to be replaced by this dark, almost depressing forest with the silhouette of a lone hut over the horizon.

The same old dream, for the past eight years.

Every. Single. Time.

I'll admit that nothing significant had ever happened in my life, except my parents' untimely death of course, and all of my days were spent doing the exact same things. But when even your dreams start to follow a routine, you can't help but be a tad bit frustrated. I mean who likes having such a dumb imagination that only shows you the same fudging dream, over and over again?

But maybe, just maybe, the recurring dreams actually meant something?

Ha! Who was I kidding? Even a jackass would figure out that my dreams probably signified the way I viewed my life; perfect one second and upside down the moment my parents' car crashed with a truck.

But little did I know that the worst was yet to come.

It all started on the day I was pulled out of my boring dream-world into the lamer reality, by a phone going haywire somewhere.

At first I tried to ignore it and get back to sleep, after all, my mind was already exhausted by conjuring up those images, but the ringing just wouldn't stop!

I groaned as I kept fumbling for my phone over the side table. I was able to open my eyes, just enough to be able to see the fluorescent digits on the table clock-- 12:01 a.m.

What the actual fudge?

I'm so going to kill this person for disrupting my sleep!

In case you're wondering what kind of a teenager actually sleeps before midnight, that too during vacations, then I'll have to say it's my kind; the ones who have to wake up way before daybreak because they are secret assassins and have several 'tasks' to accomplish while the world is asleep.

Pfft! Just kidding.

I live in this boring ass town, Karoi, where there's no better way to spend vacations than to sleep. Of course, if you're an outsider, you can do all sorts of hill-station-y things like sightseeing, hiking, camping, spelunking and all that jazz. But I've lived here for eight years and there's hardly anything left to do! Besides, my uncle's pay isn't good enough to afford a nice long holiday trip to the beautiful beaches in South India. And even if he could, I dare not ask him 'cause then my Hitler of an aunt will have my head. Ugh! Let's not talk about my aunt.

Anyway, back to the phone issue. (Seriously, I really need to modify my attention span which is that of a fudging squirrel!) I actually had to get up and walk all the way to the chair below the switchboard because apparently I had left my phone there to charge, after having drained the battery by reading multiple books on a free reading app.

Now that's what you call bliss, reading I mean.

I didn't even bother to check the caller ID and started shouting at the stupid person. "Who the hell do you think you are, making me walk all the way from my bed?"

"Duh! She did it again, guys," said the female caller, the voice very much familiar to me.

"Oops! Sorry, Madhu! What's up? And why are calling at such a late hour? Aren't you in Goa? Wait! Are you back? I thought you aren't coming for another week. Is everything all right?" I bombarded my best friend with all the questions that popped inside my head.