Lucid Dreams by ADZ
I felt the hand shake my shoulder. I groaned and turned onto my back. “Wake up,” the voice called, “You’ll be late.”
I sat upright and rubbed my eyes. “What?”
“You slept in again.”
I blinked, and glanced at the woman sitting next to me on the bed. Golden hair tumbled past her shoulders in soft waves and her warm blue eyes twinkled with concern. She smiled, her hand still on my shoulder. “Did I?” The clock on the table next to my bed read seven-fifty. I groaned again. “Not again.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Was it the dreams again?”
I nodded. “They were even more vivid.”
She pushed a lock of my auburn hair away from my eyes, her fingers soft and gentle to the touch. “You’re worried.”
“Yes.” I leaned against her, and her arm curled around me. She was already dressed in a simple blue blouse and black pants. My fingers curled the edge of my pale lavender blanket. I had little time to get ready, but I didn’t want to leave her embrace yet. The images of broken walls and injured children still hovered from my dream. She laid her other hand over my trembling fingers and squeezed them tenderly. “I’ve always had them as far back as I can remember.”
“Has any ever come true?”
I nodded and rested my forehead against her shoulder bone. “I never told anyone. Didn’t think they’d believe me.”
“I do.”
Startled, I lifted my head. Her clear blue eyes met mine, and a gentle smile curved her full lips. “You do?”
“Yes.” She kissed my forehead. “I said I’d take care of you. And I mean this as well.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.” Her soft laugh tickled my ears like the soft pings of bells. “We can talk more later. You need to get dressed. Late to class isn’t a good example for your students.”
“No,” I agreed. “I’ll be quick. You have breakfast ready?”
“I’ll keep it warm.” Her eyes twinkled, and she kissed me. Her warmth pushed away the last of the dark images from my dreams.
~~~~~~~~~
I stood at the front of the classroom, the white chalk between my index and middle fingers. I drew a triangular slope and a block at its top. Turning, I faced the twenty-one students who sat in the rows of desks before me. “Let’s start with the simplest case,” I began. “A block on this lovely triangle. It slides down at a certain velocity-” I etched in the v and the arrow pointing down the slope “-now what are the forces acting on it?”
Forty-two eyes stared back at me. In the far left corner of the room, a tall, bulky boy was folding paper airplanes. The skinny boy next to him ran his hand through his black hair as he watched his peer’s fingers. “Gerald,” I said with a smile. “Can you tell me what forces act on our friend, the block?” The boy folding the planes jumped in his seat and his grey-green eyes widened.
“I don’t know.” He scowled.
“You might if you paid attention,” I scolded gently. “You can make the airplanes after class.” I walked through the maze of desks and deftly picked up the three he had already finished. “Aw, these’ll come in handy.”
“Handy?” His eyebrows crunched together as his fingers tightened around his unfinished one. Beside him, his friend shifted uneasily in his seat.
“Oh yes.” I hefted one of them and held it up to my eyes. I examined the plane’s spine. “Not bad. It’ll work for the upcoming chapter.” I smiled and winked at him. “If you pay attention, we may have a plane demonstration soon. It’ll be the one day you can make as many of these as you want. Of course, that depends on your good behavior.” I twisted my wrist and sent one of the planes flying into my keyboard in the opposite corner of the room. A few excited whispers tickled the air, but one glance to the front of the room silenced the three girls.
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. He lowered his head, but not before I caught the twinkle of excitement in his eyes.
Satisfied, I walked back through the desks, quite aware of the eyes that followed me. “So, who can tell me what forces are acting on this block?” I tapped my drawing lightly with my knuckles.
~~~~~~~~~~
I opened the car door and plopped into the passenger seat. With a sigh, I shut the door and dropped my work bag between my feet.
“Long day?” She raised her eyebrows, her right hand on the shift between us.
“Sort of.” I dug my fingers into my left boot and rubbed the back of my heel. “Caught Gerald making airplanes again.” I straightened and buckled my seat belt. “Took your advice this time.”
“Did it help?” She turned the key. The engine rumbled to life with a snort.
“Yes. He paid attention for the rest of class. Even answered two questions right.” I glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes. Her eyes were focused on the road as she turned out of the parking lot, but her usual smile lit her smooth face. “And you? Were your students behaving?”
“For the most part.” Her left hand tightened on the steering wheel. “Though Sara is still being bullied.”
“There isn’t much you can do, is there?” I resisted the urge to reach out and smooth away the wrinkles in her forehead. It wouldn’t do to distract the driver.
“Not much. My last plan worked for a week, but they are persistent.” Her smile was tight and she sighed. “At least, she’s taking it better. I think speaking with her helped. Gave her some encouragement at least.”
“Knowing someone believes in you always helps.”
She flashed me a quick smile, her teeth straight and white against the light tan of her face. Her right hand reached over and grasped my left tightly. “Yes, it does.” The light turned red in front of us, and we came to a stop just before the pedestrian lines. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Should I be concerned?” I smiled and winked at her. She rolled her eyes but laughed softly.
“Probably.” She squeezed my hand. “The dreams are increasing, aren’t they?”
I shivered. I hadn’t wanted to remember. “Yes.” I ran my free hand through my curly hair and rubbed the back of my neck. “You’re in them more as well.”
“I know.” Her lips tightened, their edges almost white. “Last night you dreamed of broken walls and injured children.”
“Yes.” I gazed at her in wonderment. “How did you know? I didn’t speak-”
“You didn’t have to. I dreamed of it as well.” The light turned green, and the car snorted again as it picked up speed.
I stared straight ahead unable to think of a response. She had been in my dream last night, but she had been too far away. I couldn’t reach her. The wall had stood between us, the slabs of wood broken, and the children huddled against it. I had tried to help them, but the wall had fallen before I could come close. Her voice had awakened me before the wood hit.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she continued quietly. “I’m here with you.”
“I know.” My voice is soft. I lay my other hand over hers and mine. “It’s hard still. Seven years, afraid to speak of it. I wanted to tell you, but couldn’t. I was afraid I’d lose you…”
“Yet you didn’t and you won’t,” she squeezed my hand again. “I understand why that happened. But surely, there’s no need to fear anymore? We came to terms with this. We’re together now.”
“Some habits die hard.”
She pulled into our driveway and shifted into park. The engine coughed and fell silent. “That fear separated us last night.” She turned to me and placed her hand against my cheek. “Please, let it go. I will take care of you.”
“Alright.” I managed a tenuous smile. “I will.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I turned off the faucet and leaned against the sink. “Will it work?”
She wiped the plate dry. “It will.” It clinked against the stack in the cupboard as her fingers delicately slid it into place. “You have to trust and believe.”
“It’s hard.” I stared into the garbage disposal. Bits of chicken clung to the edges of the hole. The cupboard clicked shut and a waft of mint sidled past my nose as her arms curled around me.
“Nothing’s ever easy.”
I turned to her, my arms around her shoulders. “I don’t know what’ll happen. The edge was so close last night.”
“What is this edge?” She raised her eyebrows, her breath sweet and warm against my cheek. “You spoke of it before.”
“Some physicists believe there are parallel worlds,” I explained. My fingers brushed her soft hair. “That they exist next to ours. Most of the time they can’t be seen.”
“But sometimes they can?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe this?”
“For the most part.” I sighed and leaned my head against her shoulder. “The math proves their existence. There has been some evidence for them. Not enough to validate the theory though.”
“How much do you know about them?” Her lips delicately touched the top of my head.
“Not much I’m afraid. I had a tendency to fall asleep in class.”
She laughed softly. “You falling asleep?”
“The room was warm,” I retorted. “And his voice held that sing-song quality, you know, just lulls one to sleep. Besides, it was just equations he rambled about.”
“What if you need them?” Her arms tightened around me, her hands pressed against my back. “Especially tonight-” Her voice dropped in pitch “-when the dreams return?”
“What good would they do?” I lifted my head and met her troubled gaze. “I can’t calculate them in my head.”
“No, I suppose not.” Her smile was rigid, her lips almost white.
I reached upward and slid my fingers over her lips. “We’re together, remember? We’ll survive.” My fingers slid into her hair as I leaned forward and kissed her. Her arms tightened around my shoulders, one hand against the back of my head. It was a brief respite that sent tingles down my spine; the worries that plagued me erased temporarily in her embrace.
“Yes,” she murmured, her cheek against my own. “Together we’ll stay.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
I flipped onto my side and glanced at her slender body next to mine. Her faded pajamas half hidden by the blanket we shared, she twisted the ends of her sleeves.
“Hey.” I twirled my finger in the pool of hair that lay on her pillow. “We’re not asleep yet.”
“No,” she agreed. She turned onto her side to face me. “You can’t let that fear push us apart this time.” She spoke my name softly, and it sent a shiver of delight and trepidation through my spine. “I can’t help if you do.”
“I know.” I almost choked on the words. I laid my head against her shoulder.
She laced her fingers through mine. “Don’t let go,” she said softly, her breath warm against my ear.
I cuddled against her. “I won’t.” I closed my eyes and felt her arms encircle me and pull me close. I held her tightly. I didn’t want to lose her again, but I had to trust in her. It was hard, but I knew she wasn’t going to let me go. I had to believe in that when the time came. I breathed deeply and let the troubled thoughts flow out through each exhale. My eyelids grew heavy as the dampness of sleep pulled me into its shimmering depths.
~~~~~~~~~~
My feet pressed against a cold and damp floor. Silver light shimmered in the mist around me, and my hand was tightly held by strong, moist fingers. I looked over to see her next to me, her pajamas aglow from the surreal light, and her hair encircling her like a cloak. She glanced at me, her blue eyes narrowed.
“This is it,” she said softly. “The edge you spoke about?”
“Yes.” I clutched her hand and shivered. “It always starts this way. But you’ve never been here before.”
“I couldn’t.” She stepped closer to me, her other hand grasping my free one. “The fear separated us.”
“But not this time.” I tilted my chin and clenched my jaw. A tenuous smile twitched her lips. “You won’t leave me.”
“I won’t.” Her fingers tightened around my own. “It’s starting, right?”
The mist was glowing brighter as it swirled around our ankles and up our legs in tight rings. “Yes.” Its cold touch sent a shiver down my spine. I never liked this part. Never.
“Don’t fear it,” she whispered. “We’re in this together.”
“Yes.” I trembled and held her hands even tighter. The mist swirled around my chest, my night shirt damp against my skin. Icy fingers tugged against my ankles. Her fingers slipped as my right hand was wrenched from her own. I clung to her left as the mist slammed against my chest. It felt like a thousand bricks pressed against me, shoving me away from her. “No!” I reached for her desperately.
“Please, don’t leave me!”
“Don’t let the fear win!” Her voice echoed in my ears as her form blurred in my vision. “I can’t reach you unless you let it go!”
I clenched my teeth and swam toward her. She was right. I had no need to fear anymore. She was here. I was not alone anymore. I called out her name. It sliced through the hold on my ankles. This was my chance. Desperately, I leapt forward.
“I’m here.” Her voice lead me to her, and I tightly wrapped my arms around her. She clung to me. “I won’t let you go,” she whispered in my ear.
“And I won’t either,” I said fiercely. The mist grappled my ankles, but this time she was pulled with me. Silver light exploded around us and we fell together through space-time.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tufts of grass tickled my cheek, the dirt cool and gritty against my body. A warm breeze ruffled my hair and tugged at my cotton pants and shirt. Fingers tightly held my own and pulled me against her chest. I opened my eyes to see us lying in a field of gray-green grass. Her arms still encircled me, and her hands tightly held my own. I turned my head to see her behind me, her eyes wide.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure.” The grass stretched in every direction, each blade swaying in the breeze. “This isn’t like the others.”
“No, it’s not.” She loosened her hold as she sat upright. Pulling me against her, she held me in her lap. “Do you smell that?”
I wrinkled my nose. A faint waft of burnt wood tickled my nostrils. “Yes.” I sniffed again and turned my head in the direction of the breeze. “It’s that way.” I raised my hand and pointed with my index finger where the breeze emanated. A low rise speckled with gnarled, bent trees lay before us, and a plume of black smoke rose behind it.
“Perhaps we should investigate.”
“I think so.” I shivered and closed my eyes. “Before I couldn’t leave until I acted. Maybe this is the same?”
“Maybe.” Her warmth fueled my courage. I stood, careful to keep my hand tightly in hers. She got to her feet and glanced at me with raised eyebrows. “Take care. We don’t know what’s there.”
“Perhaps not.” I wrinkled my nose and sneezed. “It smells like acid.”
“Mmm…” She frowned. “You know something.”
“Not much.” I sighed and ran my free hand through my thick, curly hair. “Some scientists say they’re alternate realities, that all possible realities exist at once, but each in a separate world or dimension. Perhaps this is just one of those. What could have happened to our world.”
“Yet we’re here.” She stepped forward, and I followed her, our footsteps silent against the cold soil and rough blades of grass. “Do we alter these realities somehow?”
“Maybe.” I tugged at a lock of my hair, my eyes riveted on the column of smoke in the distance. “We’re proving it’s possible to access these other realities. I wonder if maybe our presence plays a part in shaping each possibility. Our consciousness altering it whether for good or ill.”
“For good,” she said firmly. Her hand clutched mine so tightly a tingle of pain slithered up my arm. “Like you said before, we’ll survive.”
“Yes.” The grass tickled my ankles and the acidic stench grew stronger on the faint breeze. Faint screams echoed in the distance. I exchanged glances with her, and together we began to run, our fingers still linked together. The soil slid under our bare feet, the stench stronger with each step.
Each scream held a personality, an identity. People like us in need of help. I felt myself start to pull ahead. She grunted and increased her pace. The gnarled trees loomed around us as we slipped and pulled ourselves up the steep slope of the hill. The smoke rose in a thick plume that blotted out the sun that lingered over the horizon.
I gasped as we slid to a stop at the top of the rise. A small village lay before us, several of the houses burnt to the ground, and others engulfed in orange-red flames. A few stood untouched below us, but the flames licked the edges of their grass roofs. Children ran in the streets, their clothes torn and singed with black. Two adults ran behind them, ushering them away from the flames, but the majority lay motionless in the streets, arrows in their backs. Horses whinnied at the edges of the village, riders in black cloaks motionless on their backs. Arrows notched to their bows, the riders sought out any movement, only their dark eyes in motion.
“We have to do something,” she whispered. “But what?”
“Numerous possibilities exist.” It was the one class I rarely fell asleep in, but I still remembered little of the quantum equations. “Reach out and take one.”
“Show me how.” Her blue eyes were wide and her mouth a thin, white line.
“A dream for us,” I murmured. “Reality for them. It’s not much, but maybe we can imagine a possible attack to stop the archers.”
“Like a lucid dream, where we control what happens?” The edges of her mouth twitched.
“Yes.” I held out my free hand and pointed it toward the archers. “Twist, and release.” I curled my hand into a fist, then flung my fingers outward. I imagined a whirlwind that twisted the smoke and hurled the riders from their horses. Grunts punctuated the air and frightened neighs sliced through my concentration. I blinked and watched as several horses dashed away from the flames, their riders flat on their backs in the grass. Beside me, she slammed her hand against her thigh, and suddenly the ground jumped beneath us, the last of the riders thrown from their saddles. The remaining horses dashed into the grassland, their eyes rolling in fright. Cheers from the children burst from below us as each of the flames were smashed out by a flick of our fingers.
“Those adults,” she whispered. “Are they alive?”
“Yes.” I frowned at the motionless people. “We control this dream, remember? They are alive.”
“Of course,” she agreed with a firm nod. “They just need some healing.” We slid down the slope together, our hands still interlinked.
“Mages!” the adults cried out, they stood between us and the children. “Why do you save us?” The taller one stepped forward; he held only a pitchfork. Behind him, the children crowded close to their legs, green eyes focused on us.
“We help those in need,” she replied. She squeezed my hand.
“There are some in need of healing,” I added softly. “We come to offer our services.” A dream where anything could happen, yet I had to stay lucid. I had to stay in control. Both of us had to, any negative possibility I didn’t dare consider since it may come true within this alternate world.
“They’re nice!” A little girl slid past the tall, broad-shouldered man. “Let them help. I like them.” The girl’s curly brown hair hung to her waist, its ends singed from the fires. The girl smiled timidly and dipped a curtsy. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied. I nodded and held her hand tighter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Night fell quickly on the village, but our work was swift and thorough. I knew the adults would all be alive, just as I knew the riders would not be, for that is how we had altered this dream. To heal each injured villager, I had to release her hand, but I held no fear. We were together. She would take care of me.
I stood outside the church at the center of the village. It was crafted out of wood from the gnarled trees that littered the grasslands around the village. I laid my hand against the rough wood; it scratched my palm.
“We did this together.”
I turned to see her behind me. Her shoulders drooped, dark circles under her eyes. I reached out and rubbed them away with my thumb. “Yes. You didn’t leave me.”
“Nor you me.” She grasped my shoulder and pulled me against her. I curled my arms around her waist. “I said I’d take care of you.”
“Yes, and you did.” I raised my chin and smiled at her. Her lips pressed against my own as her hair mingled with my curls. I slid my fingers into her hair and tickled the back of her neck. She pulled away and chuckled.
“Our shared lucid dream,” she said softly. “It feels so real.”
“It is in a way.” I smiled, caught in the rapture of her kiss. “An alternate world. A possibility that is real here. But is a dream in ours.”
“Linked only in dreams?” Her lips brushed my forehead.
“It seems so.” I laid my head against her shoulder as her head pressed against the top of mine. I didn’t want to let go. I felt safe in her embrace.
A shout sliced through our serenity. Startled, I turned, my arm still around her waist. Four men stood in the doorway of the church. Behind them, several women covered their mouths with their hands. “What unnatural act do you sully our church with?” The tallest of the group stepped forward, his hands clenched into fists. “You help us, then soil us?”
“What are you talking about?” She demanded. “What we do is none of your business.”
“It is if you stand in our village.” The man’s face turned a shade of red as his eyebrows crunched together in a scowl. “You give them ideas. Freaks like you have no place here.” He reached toward me.
She stepped between us. “You will not touch her.” Her face rigid and white with anger. She clenched her fists and raised them. “You saw what we did before.”
“Would you save us only to destroy us later?” he mocked.
“We won’t harm you,” I told him. “We’ll leave.” I turned to walk away but a line of young men blocked our path. The man stepped toward us with a snarl.
“Don’t!” a teenage girl struggled against the tight hold of one of the women, her dress tangled with the tight skirts of her elder. The girl reached toward us. “That’s who they are! I know what it’s like.”
“Silence!” The woman holding the girl slapped the girl’s face. The hit sent the girl to her knees. “You know such things are wrong.”
“You can’t help who you are,” the girl whispered.
“She’s right!” She stepped forward. “Let go of her. You have no right to dictate how she lives her life.”
“She follows our rules or she dies,” the woman responded.
“That’s right,” the man agreed. “Such freaks are unnatural. She’s lucky we’ve let her live this long.” He reached out and grabbed the one I loved. “You, though, don’t have that luck.”
“Let her go!” I clung to her hand, but he roughly jerked her away from me. She spun and hit the side of the church. Sweat dampened my brow and I desperately reached toward her. She glanced at me with wide blue eyes as her hand pushed me out of his reach.
“Run! I will protect you from this.”
“But what of you?” Tears dampened my cheeks. “Who will protect you?”
“Run!” The pain in her eyes were like daggers to my heart as she pushed me again. The guy hit the side of her head and she fell against the wooden wall. I stumbled backward and hit the dirt as lightning sizzled the air and thunder crashed around us. He dragged her away. Heavy raindrops hit my head and shoulders as I struggled after them, my feet slowed by the grip of mud that swirled around my ankles. My vision blurred. Their colors ran together into a mush of grey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I woke with a start, my bed sheets damp with sweat. I called her name, but she was motionless beside me, her hands limp against my own. “Please, wake up.” She didn’t move. Her breaths were weak and her pulse fading. “No, I won’t lose you. I won’t!” I wrapped my arms around her, and focused on my breathing. Inhale, exhale. The world faded into the slippery confines of sleep once more.
The silvery mist ripped at my clothing, skin, and hair. I shoved my way through the mush. Sparkles of light danced through the mist, each one a different reality, but I avoided them, seeking only the village. Panic twisted my stomach as the sparkles grew more vivid, more like scenes from a television. My eyes caught a shimmer to my left, and there it was; the village dowsed in rain and thunder. I leapt into the image. An explosion of light erupted before my eyes and I was suddenly falling through the air toward the roofs of houses. I rolled and bounced as I hit a roof. Pain sliced my back, but I forced myself to crawl to its edge and look down into the village square.
She stood alone in a pile of brush. Her clothes ripped, and the side of her head bleeding. She stared straight ahead, her face devoid of expression. It cut through my heart to see her in pain, to see her tortured. I couldn’t let this continue. A chanting rippled through the square. The teenage girl was held before my loved one by the man and woman who had accused us. Tears ran down the girl’s face to mingle with the rain that pummeled the square.
When had the dream ceased to be lucid? I struggled to my feet. She had taken care of me. It was my turn to take care of her. “Let her go!” I leapt from my perch and landed with a roll at the edge of the square. Several villagers scrambled away from me, their eyes wide with fear. “Let her go! She has done nothing wrong!”
“She is evil! A scourge upon this world!” The man and woman cried together. “Light the bonfire. Burn her!”
“No! She has done nothing to deserve this!” I pushed through the crowd. Two men dressed in black shoved their torches into the brush. She raised her head toward the clouds as the rain increased. The fire licked her legs. Tears blurred my vision. I called out her name. Her head jerked downward, and she stared at me, her mouth parted and her eyes wide. “Twist this,” I shouted. “You’re protected against the flames! Please, listen to me!” I wasn’t going to lose her. I wasn’t!
“You are freaks!” The man stepped into my path and shoved me to the ground. I fell onto my knees, my head whipped forward by the smack of his hand against my head. “Freaks!”
“No,” the teenage girl shouted. The girl pulled free from her captor and grabbed my arm. “We are loved. Loved by the Creator.” At the mention of that name, thunder crashed overhead. “You can never take that from any of us.” The teenage girl smiled at me, and pulled me to my feet. “He brought you together. He protects you.” The girl released my hand and stepped between me and the crowd. “Don’t forget that.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. I stumbled forward. The man growled and tried to grab me, but the teenage girl threw herself into his side and knocked him to the ground. Shouts echoed in the square, but no one could reach me now. Fear kept them rooted in place.
She stood before me, the flames half extinguished from the rain, but her ankles singed. The stench of burned flesh hit my nostrils. I gagged as I called out her name again. She trembled, bound fast to the pole behind her. I stepped into the fire and embraced her. A brisk wind pulled at our hair and lightning lit the area around us. “You protected me,” I whispered in her ear as I freed her from her bonds. “Let me take care of you too.”
She smiled as she curled her arms around me. “Alright. I will.” A flash of silver lit the square as the storm ceased. We stood untouched in a ring of fire that grew dimmer, extinguished by the last few droplets of rain. Silence surrounded us as hundreds of eyes bored into our backs.
“Let’s go home.”
“Yes, let’s.” She held me tightly as the wind swept us off our feet. We clung to each other’s hands as we were swept into a wave of golden light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I sat at the edge of the bed and tied the laces of my boot. She lay in bed next to me still asleep. I poked her again. “Wake up, sleepyhead. You’ll be late.”
“Late?” she murmured. She opened her eyes and blinked at me.
I smiled. “You’ll set a bad example for your students.”
She sat upright and glanced at the clock. It read seven-fifty. She shook her head and laughed softly. “Was it all a vivid dream?”
“For us. Not for them.” I poked her shoulder again. “Come on. At this rate, we won’t have time for breakfast.”
She smiled as she slid an arm around my shoulders. “Aren’t I supposed to be saying this to you?” Her breath tickled my ear.
“Today it’s my turn.” I pressed my cheek against hers. “We take care of each other, remember?”
She laughed softly, her arms around my waist. “Yes, we certainly do. And that’s the way it should be.”
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