Dreamscope [h.s.]

Chapter 1

I wake up drenched in sweat. Panic engulfs me as my chest rises and falls rapidly. My breaths come out short, not slowing until I come out of my sleep enough to realize that I’m safely in my own bed.

I’d had the same dream that I’ve been having all week. The raised bumps covering my arms keep no secret of the terror still consuming my body.

The dream always starts out the same, nothing unusual. I find myself in a seemingly harmless setting – that’s the only part that varies from dream to dream. Sometimes I’m in a classroom. Sometimes I’m working. Sometimes I’m with my friends or family. But the one constant in all of those dreams is the boy that fills my mind.

He runs up to me, green eyes round with worry. He shakes me so my full attention is on him and I notice the trembling of his hands.  

“Run!” He yells, his deep voice conveying the direness of the situation.

I try to move every time, but my feet feel glued to the spot. I am immobile – a statue, frozen with an emotion that I can’t put my finger on. It’s close to fear, but it leaves a different feeling in my chest.

“Go! Run!” His desperation takes hold of him and sweat beads begin to appear on his brow. “Please, please. Nya, you have to get out of here.”

Once more, I try to move. I struggle to move my body an inch, to fling myself away from him and run as he tells me to. But I can’t. My body has turned to marble at his touch and I am permanently stuck, watching the pain in his features.

Each time it ends the same. There is the screaming, the fleeing of people around me, the dead eyes of the boy in front of me. And then I jolt awake.

The darkness that cloaks my room reminds me that I’m still waking at unusually early hours. I don’t dare unplug my Dreamscope wires, anxious that my odd dream patterns will alert someone any day now. I try to at least keep up the pretense that I’m sleeping normally, even if that means staying plugged in when all I want to do is shower and clear my mind.

Staring up at the ceiling, I try to make my mind blank. But trying not to think about it has the opposite effect. The dream is becoming more frequent and all I want is to figure out what it means. And who the boy is.

It’s slightly unsettling that I see green eyes every time I fall asleep when I should be seeing Logan’s blue ones.

Logan. Shit, I think to myself as I remember our plans that he made for today.

Being together for over a year is cause for celebration where I live in Amberly. The idea is that every year starting at the age of 16 the leaders of the town select someone for you to date based on your preferences. The “relationship” can be terminated at any time and most people end it before the year is over. Then when the next year begins, a new person will be selected for you to enter into a relationship with.

The fact that Logan and I are nearing the two-year mark makes everyone think that we will take vows and start our family soon. But to be honest, neither of those things sounds appealing to me in the slightest.

I don't want to see him today. It's not his fault because he's not a bad person. He’s actually sweet and says he loves me. I’m just not sure if I want to be with him forever.

I flip over on my side, sighing heavily. The idea of waking up every day to a life with him just seems so empty and unfulfilling and it makes me want to go back to sleep. Even if I have to relive my nightmare.

Glancing out my window, I can see that there’s a pale rose color making its way into my room and I decide that the sunrise is an acceptable time to unplug without bringing attention to myself. The requirement is that we stay plugged in whenever we’re asleep and the leaders try to regulate our sleep patterns so that we function at normal hours.

I just hope it doesn’t look suspicious that I’m up this early on a day off. As I unplug my Dreamscope cords and throw the covers off my body, I decide to take a shower. My muscles will appreciate the hot water so they can hopefully relax a bit from being so tense from the dream.

The hallway is quiet, signaling that everyone in my house is still asleep. I'm not surprised. I'm the only early riser in my family. 

I stretch my arms into the air lazily and then peel off my shirt before twisting the bathroom door open. As I flip on the lights, a hand clamps down over my mouth and another grips my hip. My mind registers that there's an intruder in my bathroom and I try to scream with all my might.