(Welcome to story day! Here’s a little something for you guys. Feel free to give any kind of feedback. J )
This is my favorite kind of dream! I think, letting out a scream. The wind feels heavy in between my fingers, my hair wooshes back in an exciting frenzy, and for once, I feel like I’m the freest being in the entire universe. I take in the moment, ice cold air tumbling into my lungs, the taste of sweet freedom in my mouth. From the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of white zips by.
Guess I can’t ignore the screaming boy forever.
Grimacing, I imagine wings sprouting onto my back, sulking as I feel the tug of gravity take over. I fly back up to where the dreamer is, his pale body perpetually stuck in one spot, his clothes and hair sticking up comically as if he’d been glued to an invisible ceiling or something. I could tell him he isn’t actually falling, that it is his own over-active mind created this cliff. I could also tell him that his real mind is actually floating right beside him, watching him fall. I could tell him that the cliff is actually not flying past him, his mind just thinks it is, and blah blah blah.
But then he’d hear and see me. Maybe remember me when he wakes up. And I wouldn’t want to be breaking the first rule of Dream-travel, would I?
I sigh, annoyed, and begin to look for the shadow in the dream, some place his mind hasn’t conjured. I look down to where the foot of the cliff should be, and I spot it: a blanket of darkness. I can’t help think how cowardly this guy’s brain is, not even imagining how the foot of the cliff looks like. But, it makes for an easy gateway to the next dream, so I won’t complain. I let my wings disappear, and I soon, I’m in the darkness.
The shadows feel like clouds, the darkness sticking to my skin like a wetsuit. Slowly, my mind grows heavy. I already can’t tell if my eyes are open or not, and I don’t even care. For who knows how long, my mind drifts into depths of unconsciousness. Who was I again? Why was I here?
Oh right, I’m Shadra. I’m a Dream-Traveler. My jurisdiction is nightmares. And I don’t exist.
Memories continue to crowd my mind as I spot a light, another dream, ahead. Rainbow landscapes mix with upside down palm trees and so many cliffs. Every dream having some sort of story, some reason to exist, and how I’m the one guarding them. My heart swells with pride.
I make sure to turn invisible before tucking myself into the light. Into a new dream. I’m feeling the same rush all over again.
I fall into the light, instantly plopping onto something leather. I open my eyes, my nerves on edge. Will this be my chance to act?
And, my first sight is a guy in his underwear. Oh dear God, why?
I end up in the typical old dream, a man standing in front of his co-workers in only a set of pink boxers. His fat lips seem to be stumbling over words, and his co-workers, mostly pale, shiny-domed men are all laughing at him. I lay my dark hands into my head, kicking my feet back and forth in disappointment. Why do I always have to land in these pointless dreams?
There was a slight pricking on my skin and quickly realize the small green spots appearing on my skin. I look over to the dreamer, whose dark eyes are scanning my chair. My eyes widening, I realize I had been moving the chair around, when no one was in it. The dreamer was beginning to think this was a dream.
Yeeks, I need to get out of here! I said, my head swiveling to find this dream’s darkness. I noticed a glass-door with nothing beyond and quickly throw myself into it. This time, the darkness doesn’t take half as long, and I land on something squishy.
I hear a high-pitched scream, and look up into the most purple I’ve ever seen in my life. In the tentacles of a large squid, is a girl with hair the color of darkness, her mouth stretching wider than humanly possible. The squid looked like it had jumped straight out of a science-fiction movie and into this girl’s head. I give a little smile.
Finally I get to do something, I think, letting myself turn into an attractive young boy with a very large harpoon.