The sun never sets at this beach. Day and night it constantly rests in a low position in the sky, so its colors are always vibrant and orphic in every way. Too bad this place isn’t real. It’s merely a figment of my imagination from within a lucid dream.
“Jo!” I hear someone from reality call.
Moments later I can’t help but be pulled away from this dreaming paradise and into the real world.
“Jo!”
I jolt out of my slumber.
“What?!” I blurt out.
Students giggle and murmur around me. Sudden realization about where I’m at hits hard, and so does embarrassment.
“Can you answer my question please?” The professor asks.
My heart beat starts to speed up. What question? I didn’t hear a question.
“U-uh,” I fumble. “Could you repeat it?”
“No, I have repeated it twice already. But, it’s clear you were asleep. Hurry, pack your things.”
What? Pack my things?
“What do you mean?” I puzzle.
“Pack your things. You’re leaving my class.”
I stare at my professor for a solid thirty seconds in confusion as I try to quickly figure out what’s going on. My brain’s still a little fuzzy from the sudden wake up call. I pack my things, just as instructed, and walk to the front of the classroom.
“Good. Now if you’d walk out of my door that would be great,” my professor states.
A little hurt at how blunt she’s being I sluggishly walk out of the classroom and disappear behind the door, listening to it slam shut behind me. I suppose I had fallen asleep one too many times and now my time is up. Guess I need to go schedule another course to replace this one.
I mosey down the campus and stop every so often to glance up at the sun. It’s silly how much I miss that imaginary place in my head. Maybe If I just laid down for a moment and fell back asleep I could visit there once more before sentencing myself to another boring class. Thinking this I walk over to a nearby tree and rest my tired, college student body against it. Within minutes I’m fast asleep.
I open my eyes and instantly see that familiar never setting sun hung somewhat low in the sky. Breathing in the fresh air of the beach I slump down into the sand and bury my hands into it. Suddenly, something unexpected happens. A voice casually comments–
“Isn’t it breathtaking?”
With my heart nearly jumping out of my chest I fling myself forward on the sand and whip my head around. When I see a tall man with a gentle smile I nearly pass out. Actually, I do pass out, and when I awake I’m back at campus. My heart is still thumping violently out of my chest like I just saw a ghost. No, worse. I saw someone in a dream that I’ve never seen before in my life. Normally during a lucid dream I don’t see anyone, and that’s mostly because I design them that way. It’s draining to have to talk to people everyday in the real world so I thought I’d make a world where it’s just me and nature. Apparently I must have thought about some random dude, who was probably on a billboard or something this morning before I fell asleep and accidentally brought him into my dream realm. But there’s something off about him. I just can’t put my finger on it. Have I seen him before? No, I don’t think so. Then why does he feel oddly familiar? I go to shake the disturbed feeling off but stop the moment I have a brilliant idea. I could just fall asleep and see if he’s there again. If he’s not, him being in my dream was purely accidental. If he’s there again and I can make him disappear then it’s also accidental. So, it’s a win-win situation.
I lay my back against the tree and close my eyes expecting to fall asleep again within a couple of minutes. Falling asleep quickly has never been an issue for me. Well, that is except for right now. I quickly open up my eyes and groan in frustration.
“Why is it that the one time something weird happens in my dream I can’t get back into it?”
I twist and turn to try and find a more comfortable position to fall asleep in, but something tells me I won’t be going to sleep until tonight when I get home.
Tossing my school bag aside I fling myself onto my twin sized bed.
“Ah,” I sigh, relieved. “Nothing beats a soft and comfortable bed.”
I hesitate.
“Well, maybe a good nap,” I decide. “Speaking of which.”
I roll over onto my side and snatch my sleeping mask off my bedside table. Quickly slipping it on, I lay on my stomach and wait to fall asleep. It takes a little longer than usual but I do fall asleep. Within seconds of opening my eyes in my dream realm I spot the same man from before. Although, now that I look at him more he seems to not be much older than I. Then again he is still too far away for me to really tell. Who is he? Why am I dreaming about him? Without warning the man turns around and looks directly at me. Unnerved, I freeze, not like it’s going to make it harder to see me or anything.
“It’s you again!” He shouts cheerfully. “What are you doing back here?”
Instantly I tighten my fist and think, “He’s not real. He’ll go away if I think about him going away. Please disappear so I don’t feel crazy.” I slowly open my eyes and notice he’s gone. Thank God. I thought for a moment I was hallucinating in a lucid dream. How weird would that be?
“Hello again.” The man pops up from behind me.
“Agh!” I scream, launching myself away from him as quickly as I can.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Suddenly, I can feel myself start to wake up. Rule number one of lucid dreaming: don’t scare yourself or else you’ll wake up. That’s what happened earlier underneath the tree on campus. I take a deep breath and try to control myself. I feel the fuzziness in my head start to disappear meaning I’m falling back into a deeper REM sleep.
“W-who are you?” I stutter, still sitting on the sandy ground.
“My name’s Emmerson. Who are you?”
“J-josey.”
I examine this mysterious intruder of my dreams from head to toe.
“How come I couldn’t think you away?”
“Because I'm real," he replies very matter of fact.
I stare at him for a moment not believing a single word I just heard.
"Ha, now my brain is even trying to mess with me. Great," I mumble.
"No, I'm serious. I'm a real person. You're not imagining me."
Still not believing a single word he said an idea pops into my brain. I think as hard as I can to picture a newspaper on the ground next to me. Low and behold I turn my head and there it is. Rule number two in lucid dreaming: reality checks. Words in dreams never stay the same. You look at them once and they’re one way, but the second you turn away and look back they’ve changed. Therefore, by imagining a newspaper I can tell whether or not I’m actually dreaming.
I bend down and pick up the folded paper covered with black letters that don’t spell words that make sense. I turn my head away and quickly look back. They’ve changed. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“See? I am in a dream,” I decide.
“Just because you’re in a dream doesn’t mean I’m not real.”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Go ahead and stick your hand through me then,” the guy insists.
Another reality check. Since nothing is real in a dream you can stick your hand, and even your body, through solid objects.
“I don’t really know why I feel the need to prove myself to an imaginary boy—but alright, sure,” I agree.
I raise my hand up towards his arm and go to jab it through. It doesn’t go through. I try to jab my hand through his arm several more times in which he grabs onto my hand and stops me.
“You can stop poking me now,” he chuckles.
I stumble backwards in disbelief.
“H-how is this possible?”
“Why can’t it be possible?”
“Who are you? Why are you in my dream?”
“Who’s to say you’re not in my dream?” He cunningly replies.
I stare utterly confused at the fake world around me.
“And I told you,” he continues. “My name’s Emmerson. And I don’t mean to be in your dream, but this kind of thing sort of happens by accident.”
“You’ve been in other people’s dreams before?”
“Again, you might be in my dream right now.”
“But how? I’ve been having this same dream for ages–” I puzzle.
“Did you purposely create this place before falling asleep?”
“I–” I hesitate. Wait a minute. Did I create this place. I thought I did considering I wanted a solitude place away from others, even imaginary people. Although, now that I think about it maybe I didn’t create this oasis.
“Tell me,” the guy continues, “do you remember this place before it was all this?”
“N-no.”
“I do.”
“S-so, this really is your dream? And I’m the intruder.”
“I wouldn’t say intruder. More like an unexpected guest,” he chuckles. “So, Josey, I’m assuming you’ve never been in someone else’s lucid dream before?”
“You could assume that. Wait, but how is it possible to visit someone else’s lucid dream?”
“Well, at night, or even during a nap, everyone’s subconscious somewhat connects. I don’t know the details of it all, but I know that at some point during the REM sleep cycle our brains are so deep into their rhythm of processing all of our crazy thoughts that sometimes other people’s dreams get caught up in the middle and our brain is moving too fast to realize they’re not their own.”
“You mean our dreams intertwine?” I wonder.
“Yes, so while you were in the middle of a deep REM sleep your brain hooked onto my dream. But it’s strange…”
“What is?” I puzzle.
“Normally when you hook onto some else’s lucid dream you’ll only ever see them once. After you wake up it’s incredibly rare to be able to visit back to it like it’s an actual location.”
“And I’ve been visiting this dream for a month.”
“Exactly. It’s normal to be able to recreate your own dream but not to visit someone else's. So you are an interesting case.”
“How many other people like us are there?”
“Oh, I have no idea. Hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions. I’ve known about this since I was little. Someone older told me the same information I’m telling you.”
I look out at the sun that never quite sets and can’t help but wonder.
“Why do you dream about this place so often?” I curiously ask.
Emmerson waves his hand at me.
“Why don’t you join me down to the water?”
The two of us stroll down the warm and comforting sand over to the water’s edge. I feel as the cool water tickles my toes as they climb up the sandy sides. Emmerson sits down next to me, and I soon join him.
“Have you ever wondered why the sun never sets here?” He questions.
“Yes, many times.”
“It’s because I’m stuck in a memory.”
“A memory? But one of the rules for lucid dreaming is to–”
“Not dream about a real place or else you could experience psychosis. I know,” he interrupts me.
“Then…why do you keep dreaming about it? How are you stuck?”
There is a long pause before he answers.
“This is the beach my brother drowned at when I was thirteen.”
My eyes widen in horror.
“O-oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”
“I am too,” Emmerson sadly chuckles. “If it weren’t for me he would still be here. I wasn’t watching him close enough. He swam too far out and eventually couldn’t keep himself above the waves. I heard him scream but I thought he was trying to prank me. Little to late I realized he was in trouble, but by the time I swam out there he was nowhere to be found. The water was too dark to see through.”
My stomach churns as I look out over the waters that used to seem so gentle and inviting.
“So, you’re trapped here because–”
“I can’t get over my grief,” Emmerson quickly replies, sounding like he’s known this for years.
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
My eyes widen again.
“How long have you been having this dream??” I ask, perplexed.
“Ever since then. It’s the only dream I can dream any more.”
I watch as his eyes start to glisten with tears. He looks over at me and smiles.
“But isn’t this place beautiful?” He asks.
I look around at the scenery I had seen so many times before, and now it seems so melancholy. But then a thought grew in my mind.
“Isn’t it weird that this place is so beautiful?” I remark.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, think about it. This is a memory from a tragic event, yet the atmosphere of this place is still breathtaking. Isn’t that strange?”
“I uh, suppose so,” Emmerson ponders. “What are you trying to say?”
“Maybe there’s a part of you that still finds this memory worth thinking of. Maybe that’s why the sun never sets here. Your grief never seems to end, so the night never seems to come.”
“Clearly, I can’t not dream about it.”
“What I mean to say is that since you’re stuck here because of your brother, why not set things right?”
“How would I do that?” Emmerson puzzles. “He’s gone. He’s been gone for years.”
“Maybe in the real world, but not here. He’s been alive in your memories.”
I stand up and hold out my hand.
“Take me to where you were during the incident.”
Emmerson, standing up and grabbing my hand, leads me over to a dock far out into the waters. He stops at the middle of the walkway and sits down, his feet dangling over the deep blue-ish green water.
“This is where it happened. He screamed for help behind me. I turned around and looked at him and then went back to talking with my friends,” he explains.
“Picture him.”
“Picture him?? I-I can’t.”
“If you want to move on you have to.”
Emmerson’s fists tighten as he recalls the memory of his brother. Suddenly, we hear a voice cry out.
“Em!” A little boy screams. “Em!” His voice is dragged out in pain.
Emmerson’s eyes water.
“Go on, turn around,” I insist, putting my hand on his hand.
He straightens his posture and slowly turns around. Tears trickle down his face the second he sees his brother struggling to float above the now rough waters. He bolts up from the edge of the dock and dives into the water, swimming desperately towards his brother.
"Hannen!" He shouts through the crashing of the waves.
Emmerson stretches out his hand and grabs a hold of Hannen. Dragging him back to the edge of the dock Emmerson lifts him up onto the boards. I watch in awe all the while. Emmerson climbs out of the water and stands in silence for a few minutes while his imaginary little brother hacks the water out of his system.
"Thanks man," Hannen coughs.
Emmerson can't respond. I walk over to him and nudge his shoulder.
"Go on," I whisper. "Make things right with yourself."
It takes a moment to respond, but he nods his head slowly. Walking over to his brother, who just got rid of all the water in his lungs, he holds out his hand to help him up.
"Y-you uh, doing alright now?" He struggles to ask.
"Yeah. I'm never doing that again," Hannen chuckles.
I watch as Hannen looks up at him confused.
"Are you alright? You look upset," he puzzles.
Emmerson grabs him by the arm and pulls him in for a hug. Shocked, but not disgusted, Hannen returns his hug.
"Y-you could've died doing that," Emmerson chokes.
“But I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. You are dead.”
Emmerson turns away and struggles to hold in his tears.
“I let you die.”
“I may be dead in the real world but I’m okay now. I’m in a better place where there’s no pain,” Hannen assures him, stepping to his side.
“A-are you sure you’re okay?” Emmerson sniffles.
Hannen nods with a sweet smile.
“So stop beating yourself up for a mistake that happened years ago Emme. Even though I’m no longer a part of your life I’ll be waiting on the other side for you with a big smile!” Hannen exclaims.
As I watch the two of them share one last hug something strange happens. Hannen begins to fade away, and within moments he’s no longer there. Emmerson opens his eyes and takes a big sigh of relief.
“I finally let him go,” he remarks, turning around to look at me. “Thank you Josey.”
“No problem,” I reply with a smile.
Just then, Emmerson begins to fade away too.
“Oh,” he comments, “I must be waking up. I hope to see you someday Jo. You know, in the real world.”
I chuckle.
“Me too.”
Seconds later he’s gone as well, but the odd thing is the sun doesn’t start to set like I thought it would. I quickly look around to see I truly am alone now, but something’s not right. The atmosphere is denser than before. I wonder–
“Am I holding onto–”
Before I finish my sentence I hear my mother’s voice call.
“Joesy, dinner!”
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