The Nocturnal Vol 1 : The Awakening

Chapter 2 part 2

South-facing and with a breath-taking view of the subdivision road, the latter offered the advantage of being the room furthest from my parents'. My room was the most functional possible, if not Spartan: a simple bed made squared, not a fold on the duvet, a pine shelf full of textbooks, a large, open desk. No apparent fantasies. No posters, no pictures, just my dream catcher hanging from the window handle. As with my clothes, I was looking for efficiency first and foremost and I didn't want to get attached to objects.

I put my precious notebook right in the middle of my desk, with the edges parallel to the edges. I contemplated it, almost annoyed, telling myself that something was missing. The cover seemed a little empty to me.

What if I put a label on it? No, it's not a textbook. A sticker? It won't hold up and it won't be beautiful. I need an avatar, a symbol!

I then instinctively turned my head towards the window.

Why hadn't I thought of that before?

The suspended dreamcatcher was obvious to me.

What could be better than this talisman to protect my dream book?

Found by accident while sorting the attic stuff for a charity work, stored in one of the old trunks that was collecting dust and protected in a yellowed fabric embroidered with the initials RL, it hadn't left me since then. Probably an old family legacy that everyone had forgotten. My parents had been unable to tell me where it came from. I knew little more than what is usually known about dream catchers, but I had been seduced by the aesthetics and perhaps also by all the folklore associated with this object. Composed of a wooden hoop, covered with a braided net in the shape of a spider web, it was beaded with lapis lazuli and decorated in its centre with a very pretty blue polished stone. At the end of the hoop, brown leather straps were attached, with eagle and falcon feathers at the end.

I gently placed this amulet on the cover and observed the result, pleased. I couldn't have dreamed better. I just didn't know how to hold it. I didn't want to glue it and even less staple it to fix it. All I had to do was try to sew it. I went to find a solid thread reel and a thick needle in my mother's sewing box and prepared myself for the fight. The assembly was more difficult than it seemed. The first difficulty was to pass the thread through the needle's eye. Once this had been accomplished, after many attempts, I had to learn to make beautiful, clear and regular stitches, because there was no way I would produce a mediocre job. My hands trembled with impatience and frustration, and I even caught myself grunting. Did Tim contaminate me? So much time and concentration for something that, at first glance, seemed so simple. I didn't give up. One last scissor cut to cut the thread and it was finally over. The result was perfect, exactly as I had hoped. The dreamcatcher perfectly centered with the leather straps hanging vertically.

I sat comfortably in my chair and took my favourite ink pen. My parents gave it to me as a consolation gift after my first disappointment in love. It was black, with a golden tip in fine gold and had helped me dry my tears, or at least on the surface. With my best pen, I put my first and last name on the cover page. I may have been "a left-handed" as they called it, but my light, rounded writing competed largely with those of the best right-handed people. People were always surprised to see me turn the sheet perpendicularly so that I could write. I faced this notebook with a strange feeling of freedom. Here, I wasn't afraid to have to fill this blank space. No judgment by the notes, no mistakes possible, just a dream! Nib ready to scratch the paper, I searched for the first word... and I started.

Without realizing it, the words aligned one by one and the pages scrolled at a dizzying speed. The sheet became my ally. So many different worlds and peoples that I had visited. The images were jostling in my head. I was not only writing my dreams, I relived them again as the ink described them. The Lagunas, small oceanic creatures with rubbery bodies, the Mangars, animal deities... I tried to describe as precisely as possible my most striking dreams, whether beautiful or dark, and sketched some portraits and sets, although my artistic talents were limited and limiting.

Dream of space

Two planets face each other, one is rocky, the other is liquid. I look at the first one. Everything is dry and arid. The inhabitants themselves are made of earth, red and solid golems. In the royal residence, there is a baby in his crystal pram. He is a few days old at most, his parents are around him and admire him. There is so much love in their mineral eyes.

On the other planet, it is another palace for a marine people. Human-sized, their bodies are transparent and phosphorescent like those of jellyfish. There too, a new-born child in its coral cradle, under the benevolent gaze of its parents. Everything seems so peaceful and perfect. Yet, in the dark night, cries come to tear the silence of the universe apart. These are the screams of broken parents from each of the two planets. Both baskets are empty. Each family calls for war against the other planet. Weapons loaded, ships take off. The conflict between the two worlds is about to break out....

I felt a small tear escape from the corner of my left eye and roll along my cheek.

Puzzle dream

I wander endlessly through the corridors of a gloomy building. I don't know why, I have to go to the third floor. Only no path leads to it. The elevators do have a 3 button, but although I press it, it opens the doors to the second or fourth floor for me. I'll take my chances up the stairs. One, two, two, two, four! I'm enraged. I'll never see the end of it, it's not possible! Suddenly, a noise behind me. A regular sound. These are footsteps. She's an elderly person who has trouble climbing the stairs. She wasn't there a second ago. I offer her my help and my arm to hold on to. She smells like vanilla. Without saying a word, she drags me with her as if to guide me. Together, we cross other corridors. She leads me to a hidden passage where she holds the key to access this mysterious floor.

I spent the whole afternoon transcribing my dreams without even seeing the time pass.

Around 7pm, someone knocked on the door of my room. The brown and moustached head of my father, Emile, appeared in the door gap to tell me that dinner was ready. My mother, Lilie, had prepared a good cheese soufflé that embalmed the whole house. I closed my book and hid it in my pillowcase before I found my parents, attracted by the smell of the meal.

Dinner was very quiet and we talked only about the banalities of everyday life, each wishing to make sure that the other was fine. Filled with this good supper and overcome by the call of Morpheus' arms, I returned to my room after kissing my parents goodnight. The time to sleep was without doubt, for me, the most enjoyable moment of the day.

Tonight, the moon has put on its most beautiful milk set.

It is the brightest of the pearls in this celestial vault where the gaze is so easily lost. Admiring the infinitely great, I dream of adventure. My mind overrides the laws of attraction and I fly away. I cross the layers of the atmosphere to reach the lunar domain. Between the craters, on a silvery sandy beach, sits a child dressed in grey as a tailor on a moonstone. He tirelessly stares at the Earth with his gentle blue eyes. As I approached, the boy exclaimed:

- 'There are so many things in this world that plunge us into despair, that harm us, that hurt us. There are so many things that make us want to give up.'

Tears slowly came out of his eyes. Each time one of them comes off his cheeks, it starts to shine brightly like a star, before settling in the sky. It sends each person on Earth a ray of hope, a lucky star that they will have to follow to guide their steps. Then the boy turns his gaze away from the Earth for a moment and fixes it on me.

- 'Life seems very empty for the one who has no hope,' he said in a compassionate tone.

He confuses me.

- 'Is that enough reason to give up happiness? To give up life? Sharing one's dreams recreates hope in others. Shade appears in the light when obstacles are present. Yet darkness reinforces the radiation of a light source, however small it may be. It is also the paradox of life. When the fog that covers your eyes clears, you'll understand. Until then, you will have to follow your lucky star and not be afraid to take the path that is open to you.'