Dreamer

Chapter 1 - System Error

If you don't believe in magic, witchcraft, sorcery, supernatural conspirators or spirits, and live in a normal house with normal parents and a normal day-to-day routine then good for you. If anything, I am jealous of you. You may think that the world you live in is boring and safe. Be thankful. I ache to swap places with you. Hopefully you’d see why.

My name is Evalynn Chase and I am the Dreamer.

It all started when I was ten. I was practicing for my very first course; a Matrix simulated obstacle course made up of different physical competitions like deadly races, sword fights, survival trips and mazes. I practiced with my best friend, Catherine, whom I was partnered with by the similarity of our predilection. We threw spears at the target, fenced, trained archery and practiced combat skills every morning. She would glare at me with a sly smile and beckon me forward to fight her. She was always quite tall, and therefore had more of an advantage. I'd tell her it's not fair and cry. Don't judge me, I was only ten. I mean, if you were my age then and you were brutally beaten up by your best friend you would do a little more than cry. Anyway, when she had knocked the life out of me I cried and she knelt down and apologised. I forgave her, of course. The abnormal happened. I glanced at my grazed hands and noticed that the cuts were fading. I mean, they were fading supernaturally fast. The skin stretched across the cuts, tightening around my bony hands, leaving nothing. Not even a scar. Catherine noticed too. She vowed not to tell. If they knew, I was good as dead. 

At first, I thought that it must have been someone else, like Catherine, or that it was a new Matrix simulant that hasn’t been announced yet. But then I realized, as the supernatural events grew, that I was subconsciously triggering my powers by fear, anger, determination or any other strong emotion or will. Usual teens would bang their heads against the pillows and scream at the teachers or at their friends. I would open a black hole in my bedroom, and then ponder on why it hadn’t swallowed up the earth. You still feel like fantasy is heaven?

Yes. Of course you do.

30th December 2752

One more day. One more course. One more projection call. One more disaster.

Seventeen. That was the age when we were expected to leave Utopia. Not that I didn't want to, of course. Underwater, the government seemed to be a planet away. I felt safe. But safety wasn't what I was trained to love.

It was my last day at Utopia. The projection call was to take place in a few minutes, and I still hadn’t left my bedroom. All I could think about was tomorrow. I was going to see the real sun and the real sky. I was finally going to breathe.

I was taken to Utopia because my father was jailed up for a crime against the government. My mother was the most honest, kindest person ever. I could have lived with her. Apparently one parent wasn’t enough. The projection calls allowed me to speak to her every month face to face. Today was the last call.

I got up and straightened my shirt. The tall, glass clock in my bedroom read 30/12/52, 8:30 in red LED. I could see my faint reflection in the glass standing in front of the dark wallpaper made entirely of posters of Breaking Benjamin, Three Days Grace, Evanescence and other bands that Catherine liked. The reflection seemed distorted, yet again that’s how I saw myself. Almost-blonde mahogany hair grown to brush my elbows, light pale skin and big brown eyes. Except that the composition didn’t work. I wore a green, formal, sleeveless shirt and black baggy, black trousers: something all kids had to wear at Utopia. I had a few dozens of these in my wardrobe. I didn’t really care what I wore, as long as it was comfortable.