Watch Your Step

𝐃𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝟓

The next Saturday, Limuel attended his third session with Dr. Larques. The psychiatrist seemed very pleased with his presence and now he even gave him a light embrace. This time they discussed having a dream journal.

"I want you to write the dreams you can remember," Dr. Larques said while sipping coffee again, "so we can understand it and break it into pieces." Even though there's moisture on his sunglasses he didn't remove it.

That sounds pointless, Limuel perceived but he said, "If that would fix my sleeping routine and have better dreams, okay."

"Hmm, do you know what really happens inside our brains when we're dreaming?"

In death, it would be eternal, Limuel thought.

"Apparently when we dream, our reality checker shuts off. Behind our eyes, the amygdala takes charge and we conceive the unimaginable. It so happens that the amygdala governs our fear and our deepest emotions. Do you dream things that happen just as you want them to?"

Limuel shook his head barely keeping up with what the doctor was saying.

"It's possible to be conscious while you're dreaming. There are Buddhist texts hundreds of years old that give you the outline on how to control your dreams."

"Like lucid dreaming?

"Exactly. You can actually direct the course of your dream."

"I've heard of it before. Isn't that just hogwash?"

"If you don't believe it, there's another way."

"What?"

"Oh, one second, it just reminded me of something," Dr. Larques said, rising from his seat. He walked to his desk and picked something up — another slip of paper. "This," he said as he handed it to Limuel, "is a seminar for the Grateful Program."

"It's about re-evaluating gratitude in one's life" the doctor explained as he sat on his couch again. "Did you know being grateful can improve your sleep?"

"That's even more hogwash!" Limuel exclaimed.

"It's up to you, Mr. Brenner, you said you wanted to have better dreams and talk about sleep." But what is it that you're really afraid of? And what is it that you should be doing?

That night, Limuel thought about lucid dreaming but he only dreamt about the first fight in his life, or probably the only fight he's been to. It was his recognition ceremony in kindergarten. When he could barely hear anyone because the whole world consisted of only him and his opponent. They exchanged fearless blows and the world spun with each back and turn. They didn't know anything at that moment but to punch and punch to reach each other's cheek. The rush of adrenaline made Limuel feel bigger and very exposed. For a second, he heard the sound of bone cracking, but it didn't hurt. It felt pleasant for him, the pain didn't register as soon as he gave another punch.

Parents and teachers were shouting to stop them. They're evenly matched, but of course, they're just both kids. It didn't end with blood, their fists were too small, too weak, to even open a wound on the skin. His mother appeared again and Limuel was so proud yet embarrassed by all the people looking that he wished he could hold her hand.

Then the dream shifted and they were on the carousel again at the mall. His mother reached out her hand once more after the ride stopped, and a voice said to him, "Fear not." It was the same mysterious creature but now his head wasn't covered, revealing a variety of heads of animals on the side, a lion and an ox, and an eagle at the back. It sprouted its wings and dove straight for Limuel — awe and fear fell upon him but fortunately, he couldn't remember this part when he woke up.

The first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to write it on the nearest paper he could get. The boy he fought in his dream became his childhood best friend, Michael. They both promised to be successful in life one day but before they could graduate, Michael drowned in a nearby quarry. Limuel wrote at the end: I couldn't remember the ending of my dream last night but all I know is my eyes are wet from tears constantly bursting from my eyes. The back of my eyelids even hurt so I'm forced to close my eyes. Wherever Michael is, I hope he's...happy.

On his morning duty to water the plants, he cherished the soil on his wet feet and the heavy pail in his hand. How he missed Serene dearly as he looked around at all her flowers. She used to tell him a story about flowers growing in pairs, when one of them died, the other would get too lonely and would soon die too. He never told her wife about his family's curse but the story's connection to it only strengthened his belief.

"Good morning Mr. Brenner!" Ms. Kim, his neighbor, waved her hand outside the gate.

He exchanged a crooked smile and raised his hand over his shoulder.

"It's on Tuesday, next week." His neighbor yelled, "Don't forget!"

He had already forgotten about it as he was still having second thoughts about going but he didn't think much of it. He had more important matters to resolve.