What Dreams May Come: Part 2
A light rap sounded at his door that night.
"Honey? What's going on in there?" came the voice that would start off in a mock-friendly tone, like always.
And like always his mother tried to push open the door, without waiting for a response. His parents had refused to allow him a lock, even though he was in his high school years. They used the lame excuse of not wanting to break through if he called out for help in the middle of the night, though he suspected it was actually some sort of control mechanism. But he had recently found a cinder block at a construction site they passed on the walk back from school and had lugged it home, even though it had exhausted him. Nothing would budge that door when he rested it on his side, and it would stop them when they tried to burst in unannounced.
"What is this? Why are you blocking yourself in?" she said, with just a hint of stress creeping into her voice.
"Because I'm studying! I have a paper that's due tomorrow, and if I don't finish it I'll fail," he said, even though it was a lie. "You said I had to get good grades, didn't you?"
He heard his mother suck in her breath, sharply.
"How dare you talk to me in that tone of voice! You... are such an ungrateful child!"
The boy tensed, as a wave of defeat passed over him. The onslaught was about to begin.
"I'm not trying to be ungrateful," he pleaded. "I just..."
But she wasn't even listening at this point.
"I... cannot understand this," she whimpered. "How we've failed in raising you. What we've done to make you so horrible and mean to us..."
The hallway outside his door was silent for a moment, which was a good sign. The boy hoped that maybe she had given up and walked away. But then he detected it; the quiet sobbing, which grew louder. That was it, his mother was dissolving into one of the crying fits she would sink into once or twice a week, and there was the sound of her feet softly padding away as she went to wail uncontrollably in her bedroom. But eventually the noise of the TV could be heard, and there was no yelling from his father. It meant one of her shows had come on, that she was bored with taunting him... saving her drama for the weekend, when she would go into full-blown tantrum mode, the one that would shut down the entire household. Yet, for now, if his dad was passed out in the living room, the boy might be left alone for the rest of the night. But he would pay for his transgression the next day, at breakfast perhaps. He would have to hear what a terrible person he was, and they would tell him to take the block away from his door. But he would find something else to pile against it, books or a piece of furniture, anything that would thwart them from denying his speck of privacy.
For now he would enjoy a few moments of solitude, typing away at his laptop.
Even though his parents could be difficult they provided him a home and food, and the occasional luxury like the Mac ibook he had whined and begged for. Of course, it was a model two generations old that they had found on sale, but it more than met his needs. His mother and father had been poor when they were younger, and were thrifty to a maniacal degree even though the family was comfortable now. They had finally relented to his demands for his own computer, saying it was an investment in his college education. He didn't even want to think about that, other than to get his hands on the white plastic device. He hated school more than anything else in the world, even Clancy Creath, and fantasized about the day when he would no longer have to study subjects that didn't interest him.
He had finished his homework, which wasn't difficult to do. All his classes were fairly easy. In fact, it felt like they simply learned the same crap over and over, so the school could keep them busy and babysit for their parents until the brats were ushered off into adulthood. Since it was Tuesday night he went to a Facebook group called "Altered Light," one he belonged to where he would chat sometimes. The topic was New Age/Spiritual studies, but they never actually studied anything. They met once or twice a week to meditate online, and tap into the energy of the universe. He had found them by mistake when he was searching for a game called "Altered Fight," and had typed the name incorrectly. But it turned out to be a good thing because the boy loved this stuff, anything and everything that could provide him some sort of escape from the drudgery of his life.
He clicked onto the page, which had as its banner image a picture of an angel flying over the Earth, reaching out to cover the planet in sparkles. A woman whose screen name was Astral Jenkins led the proceedings, but he was fairly convinced it was an alias. That just couldn't be a real name, even for a crystal cruncher.
Is everyone here? If so, type X, came her message.
Various avatars appeared in the chat box with the letter "X" written next to them. Some members of the group typed "XOXO," trying to be funny. The boy had to hit refresh on his computer's browser, just to make sure everyone was there. It annoyed him, sometimes people's comments would appear in the window, and other times he had to hit refresh to make them show up. Actually, they seemed to spend an enormous amount of time chitchatting and trading quips at the beginning, which was just a bit boring and didn't make sense since this was a meditational group.
What he liked about this was that he would actually get a buzz off what they were doing. He'd swear that they were actually tapping into something, that maybe one or two members in the group really were psychics as they claimed to be. When he sat down and did the little meditational exercises with these strangers, he could actually feel a kind of... electricity filling up the room around him. It almost looked like a white, buzzing light, but perhaps this was just his imagination, or wishful thinking that there could be something more to his existence.
Another fun aspect of the meetings was that no one knew his real name, or age, so he could feel like he was an adult, or someone other than himself. He had created a profile with the name "Johnny Rocket" to play Facebook games on, and it came in handy now.
After a few moments, a message from Astral came up on his screen. She was the only one he was really friends with, and they would chat sometimes. He had even told her his real name, or first name actually, which was probably a mistake. But she still was in the habit of calling him Johnny.
Hey, Johnny. How's the week going?
Pretty crappy, so far. What else is new? he wrote. How about you?
Pretty amazing, actually, she wrote back. I met this incredible guy. It was pretty odd, I should say. I was on the group's homepage and suddenly I got his request to join out of the blue, and he came on and started talking to me. He's the most amazing person. He's a medium, and channels this extra-dimensional being called Kyron. We meditated for a bit, and I got the most intense burst of energy. It was like a drug high... oh, though I'm not sure you even know what that's like.
The boy had hinted to Astral that he was still in high school, and that he had a dreadful home and social life.
No, I definitely haven't tried any drugs. That's not my thing.
That's good. Anyway, when I asked him how he found out about the group, he said that Kyron had given him the name, and instructed him to come here tonight to assist us with this meditation. Isn't that crazy?
But it wasn't crazy... it was disturbing that some stranger had stumbled onto a Facebook group that only had 10 members, and said some weird inter-dimensional being had sent him. Then again the boy had practically met Astral the same way, which made it even more upsetting. He wanted to tell her to run, to be careful, or maybe kick this person out. But before he could say anything, a new member came onto the screen.
His user name was Kyron Friend but there was no picture of his face, just a graphic of a strange symbol that looked like a series of figure eights linked vertically, or perhaps a cartoon image of DNA. Of course, the boy didn't use his own picture either, and instead borrowed the avatar from his video game profile, a graphic of a guy with a blonde pompadour haircut holding an oversized gun. He had searched on the internet for it everywhere, only because it was so ridiculously opposite of his true personality.
He wasn't the violent type, at all.
The new member of the group was even more bizarre than he had imagined, and the boy immediately disliked him. He began yapping away in an almost arrogant manner before Astral could even introduce him to the others.
Hello everyone! I've come here tonight to assist you with your meditation. With the help of Kyron, I'm going to connect you to the energy grid of the planet. This will increase your awareness and mental abilities, along with assisting you in detecting the various frequencies of light surrounding the Earth. Your entire lives will be changed in new and wondrous ways, unleashing abilities you never imagined.
Okay... creepy, much? The boy was chilled to his bones, though the rest of the members of the group were more than excited.
Oh my gosh, that is so incredible!
What are we waiting for? Let's get started!
This is going to be so wild...
The boy wasn't so sure. It seemed strange, that everyone was so readily agreeing to let a stranger join their meditation, one that said he was going to do things to them, expand their minds in bizarre ways. And yet at the same time he thought it was thrilling, the idea that they could tap into the planet's power. The small taste he had gotten from the buzz of their meditations was addictive, and he wondered if tonight's session would be an even stronger one.
He decided he would sit back and watch. The new visitor started blabbering again.
However, before we begin, it is essential that everyone agrees to what we are doing. This planet is run by free will. It is the most important gift that we have as individuals, and unless everyone here accepts what is about to transpire, I cannot continue with the meditation. I will now give you the chance to join me of your own free will, or else I must ask you to leave.
Again he felt worried, but the others replied quickly. Their responses began to flow down the screen on the post that had been started for the night's meditation:
Yes, yes!
Absolutely!
Of course, I agree! What, am I crazy?
A private message came up from a woman named Tina Miller, who was a group member the boy chatted with sometimes. She was a teacher in Missouri, one who was fascinated with Astrology, and gave readings to her friends. She had been promising to do one for him, and had even gone so far as to start on his chart, but somehow she never finished the project. Instead she kept telling him that she would, almost as though she was holding it over his head.
Isn't this great, Johnny! I'm so excited. And this is a night of power for you, so it should be especially strong.
He didn't respond to Tina just yet, and typed a message to Astral instead.
Are you sure about this guy? It seems kind of weird, what he's doing. We don't even know him.
But Astral didn't respond. No doubt the chats in the background were flying hot and heavy with their new arrival, and she was getting private messages from other members of the group.
The boy hit the refresh button on his computer, and saw that nearly everyone else had agreed to what was going on with the stranger who had shown up. Everyone except for him, but he didn't want to say anything, to see if they would notice.
But a new message came up, one from Kyron Friend.
Johnny, what do you say? Do you agree?
It was weird. Johnny hadn't even typed any messages in the conversation, other than a quick hello to the other members of the group before the newcomer had arrived. He was in a bad mood after being tortured by Clancy and Scott that morning. And dealing with his mother. He felt less than interested in being social, as usual, and wasn't even sure how this weirdo had learned his name. Perhaps Astral had ratted him out, the traitor.
Johnny, I need your answer.
Go for it, he typed, trying to be non-committal.
But the boy knew his response was an evasive one. He had never said "yes". He had technically never agreed to anything and felt he had created a loophole, one he hoped no one would notice. But of course the stranger immediately caught on, as though he had read his mind.
No, Johnny. You must agree. If you do not, the Kyron entity cannot violate your free will and link you to the grid of the planet. This will not work and nothing will happen.
Come on, Johnny! Let's get started!
But the stranger wasn't finished.
If it helps, look into your heart and ask yourself how you feel about this, if you think it is something good or bad. And if you feel that this is a good thing, give your agreement, or feel free to sit out the meditation tonight with no remorse. But the rest of the group cannot...
The stranger kept talking and typing, but the boy stopped reading. Messages came pinging to him on the bottom of his browser window, urging him on, but he didn't bother to look at them. He turned off the volume on his computer, so he wouldn't have to hear. Instead, he found a quiet place, as he would when they meditated, and thought very carefully about what was transpiring tonight.
The other members of the group had no idea what they were doing. They blindly agreed, and gave away their free will to the stranger without really thinking through their actions. It was just something new and fun. All this New Age mumbo jumbo was a way to amuse themselves, to avoid truly looking at their own lives and insecurities. But in his heart, he knew something was going on. This stranger was going to do something to them, he was certain of it. Who knows, maybe this Kyron entity was real and was going to join in too.
On another level he found it all exciting, the promise of new abilities and powers. The man must have shown up for a reason. This was destiny or fate that he was there. And how often did something like this happen, where a person you had never met offered to hook you to the magnetic grid of the planet? Whatever that meant.
When he truly looked into his heart, he felt this was something that was meant to be. Maybe not 'good', but good for him.
As the others yapped on, urging him to respond, the boy typed a quick message onto the screen. One simple word was all that he wrote, but a powerful one that said everything. That he had made a choice of his own free will.
Yes.
And the stranger's response came back just as quickly.
Good, we can begin.
The boy sat there as he usually did, closing his eyes and pretending he was meditating with the rest of the group. But the odd thing was, nothing really happened. He felt a little bit of static about him, a kind of electrical haze that was almost imperceptible, but it was nothing new. Just the same thing he felt when he meditated this way with the others... maybe even less than he usually felt. But for some reason his mind drifted, and he couldn't even attempt to clear it as he had in the past.
Instead he thought of his school, or rather, how much he wanted to escape it. It was torture going to that wretched place, being forced to mingle with others who seemed to hate him for no reason that he could understand. And then he would come home to his mother who would constantly whine about the injustices of her existence, and the life of luxury she felt she deserved... to the sister who cowered before their mom, trying her best to please the parent who would never give her approval... to the father who dreamed of greatness that was forever outside of his grasp. In fact, these moments when he was alone were the only good ones of his life. And he dreamed of running away from it all, of having enough money to live in a place where no one would bother him, where he could write his silly screenplays and read his silly comic books and wonder what it would be like to have powers. Where he could feel some sense of peace.
His mind drifted off, but when he finally came back the boy realized the meditation had ended. The others were thanking the stranger, heaping praise on him for the intense energy they had felt, which he suspected was a lie. He knew they were exaggerating and hadn't felt a thing, just like him. And the stranger thanked them in return, and warned them that they might experience a change in the coming days.
But I feel different now! Astral wrote.
And yet, maybe it was the boy who was wrong. Even though he hadn't tapped into any special power, maybe something had actually happened.
It wasn't until later that night when he went to bed that the boy finally noticed something different. He looked up into his room, and saw an electrical haze flitting about, magnified past anything he had ever experienced before. It was so powerful, it almost made him nauseous... and he saw the strangest thing.
The flat surface of his room's ceiling began to buzz, as though it too was made of energy. A ripple formed, slowly, one that moved through the energy field of his ceiling. This was it, he realized, this Kyron thing... the entity the stranger had said would connect them all to the planet's magnetic grid. So it was visiting him, just as the man had promised. The ripple paused over his bed.
And the boy knew it was doing something to him.
It didn't scare him or freak him out, because it was over just as quickly as it began. And though what he had just experienced was a bit bizarre, he somehow managed to drift off to sleep with no memory of what had happened.
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A/N (Lori): There are good ways to get super powers, and bad ways to get super powers. Somehow, I think mysterious strangers asking you to give up your free will so they can channel beings from another dimension is a bad way!