Memories (Of Dreams and Demons)

An Unwanted Journey

I sit in an old truck loaded with the last of our belongings.

I have not seen Naoko since Moloch's entrance. He was not lying; my banishment was real, although a little less dramatic. In the six months since he toppled the entrance to the Realm I have made this fateful trip every weekend. The truck travels for a long time away from town and into the empty countryside. Living roughly on the land my family has purchased, I help clear trees and stone for roads and habitation. My parents dream is to live on a hobby farm, built from the ground up, from nothing. I have left my own childish dreams behind to ensure theirs are achieved. But I have not forgotten them.

During the transition my siblings get to enjoy their long holidays back home with friends, free from the new responsibilities bestowed upon me. I miss those days, when I could be almost certain I was free to escape and spend long afternoons with Naoko in our sanctuary cave. On more than one occasion I have tried to sneak out or escape. I tried to break open windows, jump fences, dig escape tunnels, sneak away at night. Each attempt met by swift retribution, the punishing bruises marring my body stories of my failure. The cage that binds my freedom grows ever stronger. Watchful eyes, improved locks, reporting adults and a tight schedule make sure I am not going anywhere unsupervised any day. Invisible chains keep me on a dirt path laid before me. Eventually, I resigned myself to waiting, now biding my time until an opportunity presents itself. Whenever that may be, if ever. It's been months since I've tried.

There is only room for two in the old rickety truck. Being the eldest, I've been chosen to come along ahead and suffer the rougher ride. Looking out the window, I see children from my school playing together. Most of them wave at me, thinking I am going on another great weekend holiday with my father. Some know they will never see me again.  And none never really knew or understood how much I hated it all. I see the bike paths that I would use to take my time getting home, the house I grew up in, the schoolyard I will never play in again. I see the row of trees where I first spotted Cale; the tuft of bushes hidden off the edge of an oval where I first met Alia; the spot where the old library sat, and the courthouse that now takes its place. I see it all, and silently say goodbye.

Leaning back and trying to catch a glimpse of the cars behind us, I scan the road for the rest of my family. We are finally ready to move to the land we have prepared. This is the last trip. We're leaving the town behind for good today; heading to the country hours away from everyone I grew up with and know. A different school, a different life in a different state. The town fades in the distance behind us, and we enter a vast expanse of green fields. Tears slowly well in my eyes, my life is heading in a direction I know I will despise. Things feel different; I already feel much older than the child that ran through those fields with Naoko not a year ago. I am beginning to understand responsibility. It does not have a pleasant taste.

"Don't be such a sook," the driver says angrily, noticing my mood. I am too lost in thought to respond, not that I would know how to in a way that satisfies him anyway. He swings his arm suddenly over to hit me across the chest for being silent, for being weak.

"Why did I have to come every weekend?" I ask, bitter over the time lost. "Why couldn't someone else have come for once?"

"Because I told you to," he says bluntly.

I'm stuck in this truck, it is going too fast for me to jump out and run. Not that I would have the courage to even if it was stationary. A dark realization that has plagued me for weeks sinks in further: I am not going anywhere except away from everything that has made me happy as I child. Everything I have built and dreamt lies in rubble behind me, ruled over by a demon born of rules and responsibility. Of a childhood sacrificed. I feel lost. The tears come stronger this time, flicking down my face and on to my lap. The driver hits me again for crying, as if that is going to constructively help the situation. As the tears grow he gives up, accepting my further silence for now.

"Will I ever see her again?" I ask myself.

"No," the driver replies bluntly, a simple reality. Something dies.

I think back to my earliest memory, before the one Naoko showed me of us meeting in the bookstore. Well, it feels like a memory, but also a dream. I most certainly was not flying over a removalist truck through barren desert. I do remember the move, though. Like a memory viewed in third person, a birds-eye view of the first scene inside my mind. Before we came to the town where I met Naoko, we travelled for many hours from somewhere far away. I don't know where. Like an eagle I soared high above the truck, watching it leave a cloud of dust behind as it drove. The journey took forever, inside an empty desert that stretched as far as the eye could see. If only all memories could be seen from a higher perspective.

"I don't believe you," I mutter.

A flicker. For an instant Naoko sits squashed next to me. Smiling, she looks patiently out the window as endless fields pass us by. Fields in which we once ran and played, imagining a life together. Her hand rest gently on mine, her fingernails painted black. Her hair is tied up again, and she hums a nameless tune without a care in the world. What I would give for it to be just us two driving away forever. I imagine her turning to me. I can feel her glow, the warmness behind her smile lighting her eyes, sad but full of hope. She is beyond beautiful, and the seeds of our dream have been planted early and deep. Do you remember what you said about believing and it being true? I believe in the power of dreams. We will meet again, in this world or the Realm. Our story is not over.

I gently run my hands down the glass and remember all the times we spent together. I stare out the truck window over her small, ghostly shoulder. My eyes follow the tumbling horizon, the low hills slowly rising like a storyline for my eyes to follow. A line beginning along flat dirt, gliding ever-higher curved and smooth towards the sky. They rise to mountains crowned by cloud, enjoying a moment close to the sun. Then immediately begin their descent back to the ground, before ending where land meets ocean. Our story. Naoko's smile widens.

We go over a bump, and I jerk forward. The image of Naoko sitting there humming suddenly jolts apart. A layer of red washes over everything; the green fields become endless fire; the mountains crumble to dust on the horizon. Where she sat a horned woman sits cross-kneed, delicate hands, perfectly refined, sit between her legs, her fingers curled invitingly inwards. Face half-down seductively, a warm smile becomes a cruel, lustful grin. Blue eyes become angry red, flames teasing my childish fantasy, guaranteeing pleasure beyond my imagination. They stare at me in the window reflection. A promise of power over pain.  A shadowy darkness assaults burning fields outside the window, snuffing out the fire a grass blade at a time.

A high-pitched ring of terror fills my ears as shivers crawl down my back like ice; red fingernails scratching a chalkboard. My bottom slams against the seat again and settles, the bump over. The frightful image vanishes, and the seat is empty again. A second of insanity; just my childish imagination playing tricks on me. It's just the driver and I again.

Think, I tell myself. I need to return to the Realm. I need to find Naoko. What do I do next?

The fields end. In the middle of nowhere a dense, dark forest welcomes us.

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