Dream State

Prologue

     "Margo, sweetie, what's wrong? I need you to open your eyes for me, baby." 

     I tried to open my eyes to find the source of these comforting words, but I couldn't. This was strange and scary. I remembered how this had once happened before. All I had to do was focus, remember I was only dreaming, and open my eyes up with my hands. I ran to the corner of the room and covered my ears. 

     I blocked out everything- all the screaming, anger, and violence- except the sound of the gentle and soothing words coming from an unknown source. I focused, I focused, and I focused for what seemed like forever. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to wake up. Regretfully, I returned to my dream, desperately trying to think up a way to escape. 

☾☾☾ 

     That was the first real "dream state" experience I ever had. It happened when I was six years old, innocent and unafraid of the places I went to in my sleep. I thought they were fun, I thought it happened to everyone. The voice calling me had been my mom, but I hadn't known. Whenever I dream, I lose my memory of everyone in my life. All the people I see are just nameless faces until I wake up the next morning and remember. The next day is always the hardest, having to deal with the inevitable. Trust me, knowing something bad is going to happen and not being able to stop it is the worst feeling.

     After that first time when my parents weren't able to wake me up from my dream state (they thought I was having a night terror), they took me to the hospital. Some people told them they were being dramatic, but they couldn't watch me thrash around and cry in my sleep any longer. The doctors tried to wake me up with simple methods; shaking, yelling, gentle pain, etc., but those didn't work. After getting my parents' consent, they shot me up with some adrenaline to see if that would work, and it did. My parents took me back home and stayed awake with me all night long, watching movies and reading books. They were told to make sure I didn't sleep for another 12 hours. I didn't have trouble with that considering the trauma I'd just gone through. I had just experienced my first of many "scary" trips.

     That night, I had witnessed, through my dream, the death of my Aunt Mae, whom I was very close with. She died one week after I had this dream when her husband got really high and angry, and murdered her. I didn't tell anyone because I was a smart kid. I knew they wouldn't believe me. After all, I was only six. I've dealt with my dreams for ten years now. Now sixteen, I need to finally be able to talk to someone about this. If I don't, I'm going to go insane.