Sentilia

Chapter 5

"Maxine? Max, c'mon it's ten past twelve."

Dad? Why was my father here? I looked around and after a minute of confusion: "Oh, it was just a dream." Of course it was.

My dad smiled as he walked out of the room.

I stretched as I unfolded out of my bed, my hand pressing down on my pounding heart. I looked around my room, taupe curtains over a wall of windows to my right, a grey metal desk in the corner, a black plastic chair standing on the cement floor, and a white closet door to my left. Everything seemed normal, but everything seemed drab. I wasn't sad, for waking up was inevitable, but I was amazed that my mind had the power to do such a thing, to simulate me living in the era that I wanted to belong to so much. It had been short, but it made me feel so emotional. Maybe, just maybe it would happen again, and that was all I could hope for, because it was as close as I could ever get to living in that time.

I went to get breakfast wondering how come I had been conscious in my last two dreams, and as I always do when something is new to me, I decided to do some research. The system we had in each home had access to all public records, so all I had to do was ask, and it would come up with all the answers it could find.

But there were no records of anyone being conscious in a dream. I was disappointed, but wasn't surprised. I always felt I was different, and though I had forced myself to believe it wasn't true, maybe I really was.

Before giving up on my search, I decided I'd try to see if there were any records of people who wished they could go back in time. I knew, in our society, that these records would probably be kept in the medical facility archive, and these were protected from the public by the Respect of Anonymity Law. Of course, because of my technical training, I knew how to get passed the simple security barrier in place. After just a few seconds, I was on the medical facilities' database, and researching any special cases where patients wanted to go back in time, or wished they were born in another era. Aimlessly looking through the hundreds of files, one particular folder caught my eye. It was named "Advisor project" and was blocked with a second security measure, which I thought was extremely strange. Most security measures were simply put for people not to access a file by mistake. What was the use of protecting a file that was within an already secured archive?

Without thinking about it twice, I started breaching the second security barrier, this time making sure no one could trace the breach back to me. This was a nifty trick my dad had taught me when I was a couple years younger. He had told me it was only to be used to do good, and I still didn't quite understand what he meant by that.

Then, my screen turned white with the letters SEN written in bold; I had time to read 5 patient names before a red error message started flashing on my screen. A second later, I was already logged out and deleted any trace of any search I had done.

Taken aback by what had just happened, I wondered what secret could be so important that the medical facility would go so far to try and protect it. I knew I wouldn't get an answer to my question without getting in trouble, so I had no choice but to let it go. After all, it probably had nothing to do with what I was searching. If I'd once felt like our society was bound to keep some secrets from the general public, the feeling was now multiplied.

Mechanically going on with my day, I reached in my closet for my clothes, hesitated for a moment, and chose lighter clothes instead. Maybe it was ridiculous, but I had been wearing the same clothes in the smoldering forest, as I had been wearing earlier that same day.

After my lessons, I had some spare time. I wanted to distract myself; that was the trick for falling into a profound sleep, quickly. Maybe then I would dream again.