DRAUMRS - Dreamweavers Among Us

5 - Julia

Julia was back in a house that she left at 18. Or, at least, she was in one room of it. She could tell by the light pattern on the wall. It was a vintage two-story full of creaks and drafts, but with high ceilings and lots of character. Her old window had always let two colors in with the sun through the 1900's era stained glass in the upper pane of the casement window. Not great stained glass, not very pretty, but with a distinctive border pattern that repeated in all the windows facing the street. She couldn't remember the wall paper or the posters on the walls, but she was sure it was the house by the damned track of red and blue rectangles stretching up the wall.

She lay passively on her back with her head turned away from the window. Logic said she should straighten her head and start to get up, but it wasn't happening. She might as well have been tied in place. She knew that she wasn't, not yet anyway, but neither could she move a muscle to change position.

It was either early morning or any time after dark. Morning, if that was sunshine making a pattern on the wall. Night, if it was the nasty sodium street lamp just outside her window. She should be able to tell by the light in the rest of the room. But, she couldn't get any of the rest of the room in focus, just the red and blue track.

That was the problem with being stuck in this dream room again. It lacked options. Only one door in and out—always closed. She had a brother and parents to keep out. When it had been her room, she always kept the door shut. She had tried locking it, but her brother just took that as a challenge and persisted in breaking in. The unlocked closed door with a threat of dire consequences for entering worked better. He had secrets that she knew about and that he didn't want anybody else knowing about. It was better than a lock.

Maybe another door in the other corner was still the closet. Or, maybe not. She could never get a good look at that side of the room. The closet had been where she hung her life in sections of in-fashion; out-of-fashion, but too good to give away; right size; wrong size, but too good to give away; new and unworn– stupid purchase; old and worn-out, but with too many fond memories; and on down the rack. She could never just look in and come away with something quickly. Each possible item had to be gauged against the prospects for the day. Who would she hang with? Anyone to impress? Important to show absolutely no intent to impress? She loved winning the game by being the one out of synch with the cloned girl's pack. And she had nicer boobs than most of them, so could have worn almost anything as long as it had a little gap or a scoopy neckline that held boys' attention so completely. She actually had a lot of good closet memories, which was probably why it played no part in these stupid dreams.

Often, improbably, a toilet would somehow be right in the room with her. This was always the case when she had to pee. It sat there tantalizing her, just steps away, but it may as well have been a mile. She suspected that if she ever made it over there, she would find that the setting had changed mid-pee and she would have just soaked the pale-blue front seat of Greg's Mazda. The seat didn't match the green exterior. It was an after-crash replacement. But her half-grown brother would still be pissed for real if she pissed on it.

There was no toilet.

She hoped for a morning setting as it would mean that she might be fully dressed. Protected by layers of underwear and tights. Maybe even a Light Days pad down there. Not vulnerable at all and her hands would be properly kept at a distance from her crotch. Lots of layers to soak up the tell-tale wetness that signaled a problem with her needy friend down there. That little problem would signal a twitchy heating-up that could soon slick her whole body.

Nothing at all sweaty about morning in the bedroom though. Maybe she was just relaxing with a school book before a tuna sandwich lunch with Greg and mom downstairs. But, there was no book and she didn't feel a lot of cloth covering her.