There they were. Lined up in the dark, otherwise lifeless room, were all of the teachers that I either hated, or hated me. Every single one was standing there, with a blank emotionless look in their eyes, as if they weren't actually there. As if they were all mannequins in a store display, but they weren't. As I stood there, observing all that I could, I began to see each rise and fall of their chests, signifying that they were, actually alive. There was nothing else in the room besides them standing there in a line, one single line shining down on all of them. Then, one by one, people whom I didn't know walked up behind them, standing in an alignment so that I could see each of their faces. It confused me, not only because I didn't know them, but because they all had the same expressionless look. I'd never seen it before, it was as if they'd never felt anything in their entire lives, which I knew wasn't true for two of the teachers there who hated my guts. Then filing in the same way as the strangers, students began to walk in front of the teachers, forming rows organized by height. I recognized these students, they were the ones who didn't like me, whether they were a bully, or just an old enemy, they were there, all of them. The one light in the room was just big enough for them to all fit.
I stood there in the dark wondering what to do. I'd never encountered this before, no one had as far as I knew. Then they all simultaneously said one word, "Come." That's when I woke up. The Dream Recorder stared at me for a few minutes with a puzzled look on his face. After a while he spoke. "Have you ever had these kinds of dreams before, Hazel?" As he spoke he had a serious look on his face, one that made you nervous, even when you did nothing wrong, all of the Dream Recorder's did. It was their job to watch over our hopes, our goals, what makes us, us. No one really understands why, they've just always been there, as long as anyone could remember. No one ever asks either, because if it isn't in the library at the center of town, you're not allowed to discuss it. Say you want to talk about how long we've been here, or why the government works the way it does, you'd be arrested. No one is supposed to question this, so they don't. "No, I haven't." That was a lie. I seemed to have them at least once a week, each one different, and equally confusing. Everyone else's dreams were simple, but with every detail of how everything happened. Their dreams always start at their house, and end there as well. Say you think you haven't gotten enough exercise lately, the dream would start at home, and you would either go to the gym, or be invited by a friend to the park, then you would return home and wake up, simple as that. They never started somewhere you had never been, and people were always aware they were dreaming. My dreams, my strange dreams, they feel real. I feel real emotions, have the same physical and mental limitations, and sometimes feel real pain. One dream was of a government official that had decided I wasn't worth keeping in the city, and decided the quickest most humane way to kill me, if there is such a thing as humane in murder, was to drown me. It felt like I was actually drowning, my lungs actually burned, and my brain began to blur. When my vision began to blur, I woke up and was perfectly fine. I could breathe perfectly normally, my brain wasn't clouded at all, though it felt like it should be. "Well, it is perfectly normal to have one of these kinds of dreams. Everyone has one at some point in their lives. If you have anymore however, come see me ok?" as he said this, his face was no longer serious. It was kind, and he smiled just a little bit, but only just a little. As I got up to leave, I paused a moment to consider telling him about the others, but I knew I couldn't because they wouldn't allow it. My parents had dreams like these, and after they started reporting them, they just disappeared. This happened when I was about 12. I'm 15 now, and even though I still miss them from time to time I don't really grieve their possible deaths much anymore. I had gotten over it. Now, we live at the same house, but my older sister Lydia watches over my younger sister Macy and I. No one really knows our parents aren't with us, and since Lydia is only 17, we keep it hidden by staying low, not appearing in the news whether for good or bad. The Dream Recorder's offices are under the Library at the center of town. The reasoning for this, as far as the government has told us, is even though knowledge is our top priority, our hopes and goals for the future come at a close second. So, to resolve the issue of which building was in the center, they put the dream offices underneath the Library. I got on the bus and rode home, just like I would any other day.
