Dream Log 28: A Tour to Remember

I was heading to a museum similar to those in Berlin. However, it was located in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. An entire bus full of people were heading there as part of a class trip. Two of my best school friends were there as well, so I certainly wasn't bored. Then I started seeing ghosts. Of course, they weren't actual ghosts. They weren't even real people but fictional characters like The Doctor or Draco Malfoy. The characters all had choreographed rolls, like getting into fights or just strutting their stuff dramatically. I tried to alert the others on the bus to it, but only my two friends noticed them. I then noticed ear buds plugged into the seat, sort of like headphones on an airplane. I put them on and finally got the full intended force of the display. Adventurous music and alternating hilarious and bad-ass dialogue from the ghost stars made for quite an impressive trailer. I still don't know what it was a trailer for, perhaps just a fun mega crossover, but I'd watch it.

Then the bus driver, for no good reason whatsoever, let go of the steering wheel, got a grip on his seat back, and hefted himself into the air so that he balanced on one arm with his legs and body parallel to the ground. While doing this, the bus magically managed to get around a corner without crashing. He then retook his seat as though nothing had happened. Apparently I'd gotten on the Cirque du Soli bus.

We arrived at the museum at last and started the tour, all of which was in German. The tour guide also handed out sickles shaped like a club from a deck of cards. My friends and I waged innocent war on one another whenever the tour guide stopped talking. At some point along the tour, I had to go to the bathroom. I accidentally fell asleep on the toilet for a few seconds. At the moment that I fell asleep in the dream, I woke up in reality. I actually needed to go use the bathroom, which I did and then fell asleep again. As soon as I fell asleep in reality, I woke up in the same dream as before, realized I fell asleep in the can, and hurried off to find the rest of my tour group.

This I failed to do. Instead, I wandered off outside, where a snowstorm had picked up. I was contemplating calling for a cab to just take me home, when a man with his two young sons climbed out of a carriage complete with horses and headed to the museum for shelter. He was dressed in what I guessed was 19th century clothing. I, on the other hand, was wearing a 21st century dress. Not surprisingly, he blushed profusely when he saw my attire. (The skirt came down to my knees. The scandal!) While I smirked about his embarrassment, a woman dressed rather conservatively came out to direct him to the poetry exhibit. Then, she noticed me and smiled.

"Miss, do you need any help?"

"Oh, well I was trying to go home, but I don't know how to call a cab-"

"In this weather you won't be able to get one. Why don't you stay with us here? You could sleep in the puzzle palace."

Without many other options, I agreed and allowed her to escort me to an elaborate castle made completely of foam puzzle pieces. Thousands of pieces had yet to be placed.

"Feel free to work on it. This is our most popular youth exhibit." I was already busy exploring the enormous structure. complete with puzzle portcullis. As I wandered, the poet and the young woman consulted with each other.

"Are you sure we can do this?" The poet asked as he shewed the children I'd assumed were his into the palace.

"There won't be any problems as long as we keep them here. We'll succeed."

Mine (Translation)

Light and darkness
to die, to be.
I yearn for that,
which belongs to me.

You are followed
by shadows that smile
and whisper to me
all the while.

"Master, our search
is finally through!
A human has that,
which belongs to you!"

I glide behind you
silently
I sense your heart.
Do you sense me?

My first death
caused you to be.
I will reclaim
what belongs to me.

Mein

Licht und Dunkel,
Tod, Geburt.
Ich will wieder haben,
was mir gehört.

Lächelnde Schatten
folgen dir
Schritt für Schritt
und flüstern mir

"Endlich haben wir
es gespürt!
Ein Mensch hat es,
was dir gehört!"

Lautlos gleite
ich an dich.
Ich höre dein Herz
Bemerkst du mich?

Mein erster Tod
war deine Geburt.
Gib's mir zurück,
was mir gehört.

Dream Log 28: Sleep Paralysis

I had been fairly active the day before and this morning, so all I really wanted to do was take a nap. For a while, I drifted back and forth across the boundary of sleep and consciousness. However, sleep finally won out for good. When I woke up half an hour or so later, I flipped my computer back open and noticed that my mom was trying to skype me. I answered, chatted a bit, but soon felt sleep's cobwebs winding round me once again and pulling me back into the darkness. Another half hour later, I forced myself awake and returned to the computer, though I had not entirely managed to shake off my nap.

"Well, sleeping beauty returns to us," my mom joked, "you left me all alone for a while. I had to play solitaire."

"Sorry about that, what were we talking about before?"

"Oh, nothing much. You were complaining about the cafe you ate in, telling me about your dream with the drag queens luring soldiers to their deaths."

We continued to talk, but I lay down with my back to the computer and struggled to keep my eyes open.

" - so that's what I've been up to. Anyway, I just wanted to see your lovely smile!" said the voice from the computer.

"Heh, should I turn around then?" I joked without stirring.

"What? Why? Then I wouldn't be able to see you," came the earnest reply. Icy fear splintered through me, burning away the sopor for a second before it oozed back.

"What exactly are you seeing, Mom?" I asked, stock still.

"You, of course. The picture's still coming through. I can see you waving at me." I hadn't moved.

The pieces clicked together inside me. I was sleeping. I was dreaming. It was not going well. This is the point that people are supposed to be able to dream that they are flying or decide to become king of the dinosaurs and rule with an iron tail. It doesn't work that way for me. When I become aware, one of two things happen: I drift out of my dream body and just watch the dream run on autopilot, or I get locked in. This has only happened to me a few times, always in dreams that seem relatively normal and calm. The sensation it creates, however, is anything but. Imagine that you realize your world is fake, that you are stuck moving in a body that does not exist, in a space that could change any second, and the only proof you have is a few tiny discrepancies between what should be and what is. You could write such discrepancies off as tricks of circumstance if only the doubt curdling in your stomach would go away. When you finally accept that you are dreaming, everything comes into perfect clarity. You are living in the dream, second by agonizing second, and you do not know where it will go or when it will stop, or worst...when it started.

That was the point I was at when the sleep paralysis set in. A second layer of lethargy had wrapped so tightly around my dream body that I could not move it. I was locked into the dream and locked into the body. I fought back sleep and panic, terrified of what would happen if I fell asleep in that state. Finally, the panic transformed into pigheadedness. It's my freaking body. I'll move it when I want to. I realized that my dream and real bodies were lying in precisely the same positions, so I wrenched them both up. The dream-self melted away as I moved until only the flesh and blood remained.

Dream Log 27: End of the World

Just so you know, humans had spread to worlds all over the galaxy about 50 years prior to the events taking place in the dream. This will be important later.

I had been staying in a luxury resort with one of my best friends and her boyfriend in order to learn German in style. The only downside was that I had to work as a towel distributor to keep the costs down at affordable. One day, while making my rounds, one of my coworkers got into an argument with one of the guests. I didn't really know what they were arguing about, but I jumped in between them and shouted "You're both totally wrong!" When I realized that their anger was lying entirely on me, I added apologetically, "I just felt like saying something dramatic," and scampered off to my room where I relayed the story to my friends.

Then, a year or so passed. The only thing I know for certain is that the Earth had become one giant slum, the terriforming process used on the other planets supporting humans had failed, and for no particularly clear reason, the hydrogen levels on earth were growing dangerously high. Also, I had a baby. Things weren't looking so good. Fortunately, a team of scientists were working on a new terriforming process and constructing a new ship to take us to a new planet that we would hopefully not destroy. Sadly, only so many people were allowed to go. The project leaders were holding interviews and tests to determine who would get to continue the human race. To even qualify for the tests, you had to fit a certain age range, which I did; not have a history of health problems, which I don't; be fertile, which I apparently was; and be willing to leave behind your loved ones that wouldn't make the cut, which I sadly seemed to have no qualms about. That, or I had no loved ones left to worry about.

I bullied my way through the enormous line, clutching my infant to me. I reached the front, where the officials were seated, showed them my baby, and shouted, "I got into one of the best schools in the country, am the right age, have a perfectly healthy child, and I will do anything it takes to live. Let me on board." After exchanging glances, they let me take the IQ test and administered the medical examination. I was approved and led to the waiting area for those who would take the trip. I even got to keep my child, since the Human race would need children to start over.

The barracks for the raptured were cold and silent, except for the lamentations of my child.

Dream Log 26: School

I was chilling in my house when my mom showed up and told me about a really interesting prep school. It had the most challenging admission test in the world and some of the most fascinating projects and classes. Although I was done with high school already, I decided to apply just to see what it was like. A few friends did the same.

While preparing for the application process, I looked over what one of the accepted students had done. It was beyond impressive. She had perfect scores on all standardized tests, had founded a fencing club at her middle school and competed at a national level, held a debate (part of the application process) in which she totally ripped her opponent apart, and did publishing worthy biology research in her dad's lab in her spare time. For this school, that was ordinary.

After passing the first few barriers with my test scores and personal essay, I went to the campus itself to have an interview. The put together lady sitting across from me held a clipboard and pen at the ready.

"So, given how difficult and grueling life can be in this school, why do you think so many people apply?"

"Well, some might apply just to see if they could get in, and others might simply want the honor of attending such a prestigious school. However, the ones that will make it through and stick it out want to challenge themselves and grow as much as possible. They want to learn at a higher level so that they can achieve higher goals when they graduate."

The woman smiled.

"That is the answer most students give, but it is not complete," she said, turning her clipboard over to show a page with the words

Achievement

and

Environment

written in large letters.

"You forgot to mention the environmentally friendly dorms, which recapture rain water for toilets and are maintained and improved upon by the students."

I could have kicked myself for such a stupid blunder. Leaving the interview, I was handed a bag of tangram pieces and a sheet of paper with an outline of something or other on it. I had to complete it in the given time limit, though I could work wherever I wished. I headed over to some comfy sofa where a guy friend was sitting, already absorbed in the project.

"This is ridiculous," he laughed, "I mean, you really have to be a genius with impeccable social skills to get in here."

Neither of us were terribly concerned with that at this point. We knew we wouldn't make the cut. He didn't have the academics, and I didn't have the communication skills. We decided not to finish the tangrams and to simply wander around the school. As we went, I stumbled across a most interesting object. It was a brown, semitransparent cloth cut in the shape of a trapezoid with two handles coming off of the top corners. I picked it up, holding it by the handles and letting the rest flow down my back.

"Woo!" I held the fabric above my head and ran like an idiot. We were both laughing until some wind caught the fabric and boosted me into the air. After a bit of practice, I learned how to steer and ended up gliding into city alleys, where the wind funneled nicely. Some kids wearing batman costumes eyes me jealously. I almost crashed when a man with a cart of cabbages came around a corner.

"Meine Kraute!" he cried. (It turns out that isn't how you'd pluralize cabbage, but my brain didn't know that at the time.)

"Ach, entschuldigung! Ich habe Sie nicht gesehen, und es ist ganz schwer, diese Dinge zu kontrollieren." I explained, having landed safely.

"Was soll das denn?" He asked, eying the cape curiously.

"Also, ich habe es in der guten Gymnasium da her gefunden," I explained, pointing in the direction of the prep school, "Wenn ich Wind kriege, kann ich mit diesem Umhang fliegen. Es ist wirklich nicht so beeindruckend."

"Doch!" he replied, enthusiastically. He insisted that I demonstrate, so I waited for a good gust and took to the air once more. Flying, to state the obvious, is incredibly fun.

Parasite

I had just opened a film memorabilia shop with a few friends of mine and was going to the store with my mom to pick up a few things for the store when it first occurred. Something sweet and wet and warm dribbled from my nose onto my upper lip. By the time I had reached up to dab at the nosebleed, the blood had crusted over. Instead of wiping it away, I had to scrape.

A few hours later, the phenomenon repeated itself, this time originating at my temple. This time, I reacted quickly enough to catch some still wet blood on my fingertip and watch it turn brown and hard over the course of a second. It looked almost like the tiny bits of burnt batter one sometimes gets on the edges of a muffin tin. I crumbled it to dust.

The third time, I sensed it coming and ran to a doctor I knew living in the area. The blood leaked from my eyelid and onto the finger I pressed against it. The doctor and I observed the hardening effect together.

"What do you think could cause this?" I asked, staring at the line of reddish brown scab in my hand.

"Well, accelerated clotting could have many causes, but -"

As he spoke, the scab began to change. It elongated, gained several thin offshoots, blackened in areas, and yellowed in others. A tiny wasp lay on my finger for a moment after the transformation had completed, then flew off.

"Ah, now we've gained quite a few more symptoms to work with! A diagnosis should be much easier."

Without much to say to that, I followed him into his house and let a cup of tea go cold in my hand as he researched. Another blood wasp sprouted from my leg, this one slightly larger than the last. I went to a window to let it out of the house. There, I froze. On the other side of the glass hovered a wasp as large as a guinea pig.

My last thought before waking was, "I'm going to bleed to death birthing wasps. That's just not fair."