Dreams are the result of your conscious thought, memory, and perception of the world around you getting all jumbled up. At times, a frightening descent into worlds of confusion.
I can hear their voices in my head as I lay curled up unable to sleep. Eyes are shut tight and I see them clearly.
“Matthew?”
He turns his boyish frame and smiles, “Same question? Do I like to sleep? I love to sleep. Its one of my favorite things. I tend to have a time with it though, as I have a bit of a busy brain.”
Busy brain.
Busy brain.
A gray fog begins to darken inside. Busy. Two figures I cannot make out. Darker. Focusing in. Two Inuit people walking down a frozen slope to a dimly lit settlement. One is a woman. I cannot see the other’s face. Wind howling and blowing across their fur-lined hoods.
Busy. Busy.
I am riding fast through the green meadows at dusk. My horse is strong and young. The other riders are a distance behind, but I can feel them always coming closer.
This does not belong.
Still we gallop quickly trying to out race those that follow.
The Inuit people do not notice we’ve crossed paths. We’ve crossed briefly through their world. They are walking toward a small mining town. They have come on serious business. It is night.
Galloping. Galloping. Towards a tunnel half-lit by the setting sun. Where he stands in a shallow trickle of water. I am trying to escape. I know he’s waiting, but I cannot stop. I’ve been here before. He is never pleased with me. Color drains. Darkness. Gray. Fur against the bitter cold.
I am afraid.
There is a far-off disruption. Bars of distraction, cutting. Slicing. There is the briefest jolt, and everything is black. Vanished. There is a bright light, and everything comes together at once.
Our group has come to rest in an old rundown village. I wake grimy and worn like everyone else on the bus, and stumble out into the wilderness. As was with our journey thus far, everything is overgrown and the air is thick and muggy. Straight ahead is a rundown old mission church where some of the others head to take shelter, but I follow Simon as he begins to wander off in the direction of a wooded area, which looks to have been a park. The bugs become worse as we walk further under the trees, and I swat at my sticky hot skin in annoyance.
“Simon. Where are you going? You should know by now its not safe to wander into unknown areas.” I call after him as I stomp through the tall grass and weeds.
Smack. Another bug. I curse under my breath.
“Simon!” I call again, and look up to see he has stopped in a clearing by an old park bench. He stretches long and lazily before lounging across the seat and pulling his tatter baseball cap down over his eyes. I glare, and began walking again.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand once I have reached the park bench. He waits a moment before peeking out from beneath his cap.
“hmm?” is all his response.
I am none too pleased. “What are you doing?” I repeat, “You know we shouldn’t be far from the others. Anything could happen.” He grins.
“Oh, you’re too worried. Its just a game. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” And with that he folds his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.
“You’re crazy! What do you think happened to Sid and Chloe? How can you say its just a game?” I try to hide the tremble in my voice, but gasp as I catch sight of a dark figure in the trees. He hasn’t seemed to notice.
“Simon, something is not right here. We’ve got to go back with the others.”
A clap like thunder. Splitting through time, and everything goes black, momentarily. When I look around again, Simon is gone, and the park is dotted with people strolling around. I hear a shriek in the distance coming from down a running path. An animalist noise that sends shivers through to my core. I recognize no one, but start running. On the path are block racers. Strange men in white protective suits driving tiny little carts. Every inch of them glows. I manage to catch up to one and inquire about the creature in the trees. Has he seen Simon? They point ahead. I begin to run.
Suddenly everything is black and cold, and I don’t dare go any further. I know it in my gut. They have gotten him. There is nothing I can do for Simon now, and I have to get out of there while I have the chance. I turn and start running as fast as I can, though I might as well be blind. I can’t see anything but somehow manage to keep to the path. Gradually I begin to pick up the faintest traces of image around me, and I continue to run. They. It. Something is back there, and I have to get away. I start to come back upon the block racers, and just manage to miss them all. They are not afraid. Whatever IT is. It cannot hurt them.
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