The Dream Machine

Ten

FREDERICK

"I could go back in!" I stated to a pacing George. 

He stopped moving and placed his eyes on me. Of all the time that I've known him, I've noticed that George doesn't like to not have answers to things. I can tell that it drives him to his breaking point. But hey, he didn't have any suggestions. I added, "I could try again. You know, the first impression doesn't prove anything. It's like a science experiment!"

"And how old are you?" George asked, making a scornful look. 

"23," I declared, "and I presume you're what? 12?"

"I'm 14," he announced, mad that I would even attempt to think that he was younger, "Before we do anything drastic, I wanna know more about you. All I know is that for some odd reason, Sandler somewhat trusts you. I can't fully grasp why, but that's his ditch to dig himself out of."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I threatened, launching to my feet.

George replied, "Nothing, it's just that I don't know anything about you. You could be a crazy kidnapper! A serial killer! Trust me, there's a long list of options." 

"Oh, and could I happen to be someone that Sandler should've known but never did? A misunderstood person who has to hide his identity even though the reasons for doing so are unknown to him?"

"Look, I don't care who you are! I just care that Sandler wakes up soon!" 

"Good, because that's all I really care about, too."

"Great," he barked back at me. 

The truth is, I've held a lie about my life for as long as I can remember. Identities of my parents had to stay unknown. Heck, I didn't even know who they were. Apparently, when I was born, I was given to a different family than my biological one. Yet, it wasn't a crazy switched at birth thing, it was just how things were supposed to be. 

When I was ten, my guardians, Mr. and Mrs. Williams, told me that my real parents were dead. I had to believe them, that's what they said. They told me that whether I thought that my true mother and father were alive or not, that's what I had to tell people. So, that's what I did. 

Growing up, I didn't have too many long-time friends. I wasn't an outcast, it was just that my companions didn't stick with me. To this day, I don't really have any acquaintances to call my own. My foster parents have gone away. A place that I don't know of. In fact, it's basically me against the world, until Sandler.

Suddenly, I had found this kid that could know what I had gone through. The Williams knew about my gift, but they never wanted to talk about it. They told me that it was a secret. That's why I freaked out so much when Sandler told me that he had told George. I didn't know why it was such a secret. No one ever let me in on the big secrets, just that I was a kid like no other. I was a kid who stood alone. I never had a girlfriend, or anything possibly close to one. 

When I went school, girls found me weird to be around, because I never wanted to talk about what they were constantly blabbering about. I just wanted to think. Think about what was going on. The huge puzzle pieces blocking my thoughts. I finally settled that I would never know, until Sandler. 

He could answer all my questions, because he had no one holding him back. He was an open page on the treasury of life. There was nothing hiding from him. He had his plans laid out in front of him. Get the girl, live happily ever after. He knew that that was what he wanted to do with his life. And, me. I'm a shell of a man. Never went to college. Just moved into this deserted house and hoped for the best. I get pay from a package that comes every two weeks. It's my foster parents, giving me $500, with no return address. My life is a mystery. 

"So, go ahead," claimed George, apparently, I had just been standing there remembering my old life. 

"Right," I snapped out of my daze and grabbed the canister. I walked over to my personal bunk at the back of the room and laid down. The silver container soon drifted me off to my dream world, where I could continue my equation. 

I woke up in the room where I remember being the first time with Sandler, but it was pitch-black. And, you know how I said that me and Sandler were the only people who were part of the Consciousness?

"Hello, Frederick. We've been expecting you," said a voice that was clearly not George or Sandler. 

I guess I was wrong.