The Dream Infliction [HIATUS]

Chapter One • Indifference

Hey readers; glad you stumbled on this- I need some serious feedback! If you like sci-fi and you like romance, then I think (and most certainly hope) you will like this. It's about a girl named 27, the mystery behind her name, the true meaning of love, like, and choice, and what the heck her strange, but real dreams are about. It's PG-13 simply just to be safe... Anyway, read, comment, vote, whatever! I'd like to hear what you think- but most of all, enjoy!

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The Dream Infliction

ONE • INDIFFERENCE

The buzzing and burning are extremely prominent. The surrounding noise? Inaudible. Her eyes close and as her senses fall like a fragile wall, her body bends backwards. Her brain is a mess of colours and white noise and the feeling of falling enters her bloodstream. The tingling shocks her fingertips and every nerve-ending in her body.

And just as everything starts to fade to black, she smiles because she has changed, but still so indifferent.

"Welcome home," a smooth voice purrs. She grins in agreement, taking the his cold hand. "It seems time simply stops when you're gone now, 27. Or at least slows down." 27 shrugs and continues to follow.

"I've been busy. Good thing I haven't missed much," 27 says. "Avonmore..."

"I told you; just Av." Av stopped and turned to her. She purses her lips and raises an eyebrow in concentration, squeezing his hand tighter.

"Yeah yeah, I know...it's just...your name." Av studies her curiously.

"Uh-huh...my name?" he pushes. 27 suddenly looks at him.

"What's the origin?" Av laughs and unknowingly begins to trace absent-minded patterns on her hand with his thumb as he explains.

"It's Celtic. Or Gaelic, if you wanna get ancient," he says. 27 smiles.

"Just curious. If I can't know where my name came from, might as well memorize everone else's," she says.

"And that makes sense...how?" Av questions mockingly.

"Shut up. It just does!" she laughs and pushes him a bit. "Now aren't we going somewhere?" Av nods.

"It's just up here. I think you'll like it," he rushes as they run through tall redwoods, ferns sweeping their ankles. The sky is covered by canopies of trees, but small holes allow the pinks and purples of the sunset peek through and give the forest a beautiful glow.

Av makes a remark, but 27 doesn't quite catch it and continues to run with their fingers entwined.

"What?" she shouts to him. He turns toward her, halting.

"You're fading, 27!" he shouts as equally as loud.

"Dang..." she mutters. "I'm sorry! I'll be back soon!" she yells over the incessant pounding in her ears. Av's hand slips through hers and falls at his side. He tried to grab for her, but at some point he mist realize what the fading means.

"I was going to..." Av screams, but the scene is turning black and his cries unheard, only mouthed words visible. She can't read lips well, but whatever he was going to show her must've been significant.

This has been an extremely short dream and when 27's eyes open again, she realises that she has fallen asleep on a city bench. Someone continuously prods her shoulder and once the blurry film subsides from her vision, she sees an impatient young man in dark jeans and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his finger pointed and still jabbing her.

"Seriously?" he murmurs through clenched teeth. 27 rolls her eyes and then glares at him and he promptly jumps, his eyes wide, one hand grasping his shirt where his heart is pounding and the other tangled in his messy brown hair.

"Gosh. Sorry, didn't see that you were-"

"Already awake?" she growls, rubbing her shoulder where he poked her about ten million times. He rubs the nape of his neck nervously. "I was kind of in the middle of something." The boy's face hardens and all embarrassment disappears.

"What, sleeping on a public bench?"

"No, I was dreaming." The boy scoffs and takes his turn to roll his eyes in surprise. "Besides, what's so important about this bench that you have to poke a hole in my shoulder for? It's not like you own it," 27 argues, crossing her legs. She's sweating from the summer heat and skinny jeans. The plaid, open shirt and thin tank top underneath, however, keeps half of her cool.

"You don't own it either, but that's not my point. You're sitting on my wallet. I got up to chase a paper that got blown away by this stupid wind," he retorts, motioning at the sky, "and when I came back, you were asleep on this bench." 27 bites the tip of her tongue as she always does when she is thinking or just plain frustrated. The small indents in her tongue are proof that it's not just a habit, but a bad habit.

"Now what kind of idiot leaves their wallet on a bench?" she asks rudely, standing up and pulling the object out from beneath her to examine it. He reaches for it but she quickly hides it behind her back.

"I'm not the idiot here. And it was an accident. It must've fallen out of my pocket," he replies, still trying to retrieve his wallet by reaching around her back. 27 moves just before he can grab it.

"Then maybe you shouldn't put it in your back pocket." He throws his hands in the air in frustration. "And I'm not am idiot either; people fall asleep you know," she continues.

"Yeah, well I don't drool when I sleep," he says cruelly. She instinctively puts a hand to the side of her mouth and wipes at dry skin. He quickly reaches around and grabs the unprotected wallet and then puts a finger to her chest. "You're completely gullable!" he laughs, pushing her backwards onto the bench. "My name is Brennen. And I hope you don't have to remember that name because I don't plan on seeing you again."

She stares at him open-mouthed and grits her teeth, brushing off the area of her shirt where he has touched her.

"Well my name's 27. And trust me; we WON'T meet again," she hisses. Brennen unexpectedly laughs again.

"As if!"

"As if what?"

"Your name! 27?! Names can't be numbers," he says matter-of-factly, making her hate him more than she already does, "they don't allow it." 27 stands up and gets close to him, anger swimming in her eyes.

"For your information, it can be a name when you spell it out. On my birth certificate my parents spelled it T-w-e-n-t-y s-e-"

"Yeah ok, Number," he chuckles, unintentionally nicknaming her. She narrows her eyes. "Whatever. I gotta be somewhere. Oh, and please tell me that's not your age; you would look freakishly young." 27 sighs, running her hand through her long, auburn hair.

"No. I'm almost 18," she mumbles. He grins teasingly.

"Ha, I'm already 18. Anyway, gotta go. Better not see your face again," he says, his mood a bit brighter. "See ya, Number." Brennen starts to walk away, wallet in hand and paper that he has supposedly chased after nowhere to be seen.

"See ya. Jerk," she says to herself. He's only about two feet away when he turns around and looks at her as if she's a joke.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Brennen takes a few strides towards her and lifts his hand, 27 cringing away. He pokes her harder than ever in her shoulder, most likely ensuring a bruise the next morning. She grabs her throbbing shoulder and watches as he laughs and walks away triumphantly.

"Idiot!" she shouts at him. He waves a hand at her but continues walking.

"Whatever!" She drops back onto the bench, still nursing her arm and sighs, muttering something about men.

"Can't wait to fall asleep again. That's where things actually make sense," she thinks aloud. And truly and most honestly, her dreams are far from making sense as possible.