Sienna

_{I haven’t talked to Sienna in so long, I think. My best friend. I don’t have her phone number. I need it. I pick up my phone and text her mom: I miss Sienna. Do you know her phone number? But then, I get a text saying I shouldn’t see her. But why? I ponder. That’s exactly what I text Sienna’s mother, Ms. Jones. Still, she says no. I look for her the next day at school. But mysteriously, she’s disappeared from school. I ask all of my friends if they’ve seen her. They don’t even seem to know she exists. They don’t. I keep asking, but every time, I get this answer: “Who is Sienna?”} It’s impossible. They know her! Sienna knows everybody. How could they forget her? It’s Monday, she’s only been gone for two days, and those days were the weekend! Today I go to school, and Sienna is there! But only for a split second. Somehow, I think I have hallucinated. I miss her so much I hallucinate about her. When I get home, I get a call. I pick up the phone. A crisp, almost dead-sounding voice says, “Don’t try to visit Sienna. This is your only chance, or you’ll be dead like me.” I try to respond, but the crisp voice hangs up. I can’t visit Sienna or I’ll die? This seems terrible. My best friend . . . and I’ll perish if I try to see her. I call Ms. Jones.

“Hello? Oh, this is Lenny. Hello, Lenny, what do you need?”

“Why can’t I visit Sienna? What’s wrong?”

“Sienna isn’t feeling well. She has the flu,” replies Ms. Jones.

“I don’t believe you. It’s not even flu season. But I have something else to ask you.” I say, feeling powerful in the conversation.

“Yes? If it’s about Sienna’s flu, I’m not answering,”

“It’s not. Earlier, I got a call saying I couldn’t visit Sienna or I’d die. I don’t understand. The person saying that even said they were dead. Do you know anything about that?”

“No, now bye!” says Ms. Jones.

“Having trouble getting to Sienna’s house?” says the dead voice. It’s my brother. I turn around. But by then he’s withered away, taking me with him. I wake up in my bed. I realize I had been dreaming. But for how long? What was real, and what was not? But I look up and see . . . Sienna? It is her! “You missed half the sleepover,” she says. “What were you dreaming?”

But I reply, “I don’t remember having a dream, Sienna,” and she leaves me alone. I read more of my book. It’s a good book, I realize. It’s the middle of the night. “Come on, Lenny! You must have had a dream. There’s no way you stayed asleep that long not dreaming.”

I shake my head. “I don’t remember having a dream,” I repeat. “We have to go to bed.”

I can’t, though. My hands are shaking. My heart is racing. I realize someone is staring at me, from outside my window . . . it’s my brother. With a knife; getting ready to kill me and Sienna. And that’s exactly what he does.

But he still hasn’t. I wake up again, rain drumming against the window panes, a rainbow in sight. “What . . . what’s happening?” I ask, seeing Sienna. Sienna just stares.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand; it’s a beautiful day outside, get up!” she says. I look outside. Is this a dream too? I shake my head. “I don’t feel good, Sienna,” I tell her. But she leaves me, head hurting, confused. What’s happening? Maybe . . . I can’t escape this nightmare.Oh no, I think. I can’t escape; there’s no way out, no way. I’m in a nightmare. With no way out. Sienna comes back into the room. “What’s wrong? I know something’s up,” she asks. I sigh. “I told you: I don’t feel good. Please leave me alone.” Sienna shrugs. She doesn’t realize I’m lucid dreaming. With no way out.

But no one else knows that. “Sienna, I know you’re not real because I’m lucid dreaming. With no way out. No way, Sienna. And I know you are not real! You’re just in my dream, sitting beside me in real life!” But Sienna seems mad. “I am real,” she says. I wake up. Did I for real this time? I guess so, because I’m sitting in a hospital bed. But I wake up . . . again. I’m still dreaming? There’s really . . . no way back? I’m not back. “You’ll never be back,” Sienna says. “You’re staying with me.”

Is that why I can’t get back? Because Fake-Sienna wants me to stay?

“That’s why,” says Fake-Sienna. “Because I want you to stay!” she says happily. But I don’t back down. “Let me go!” I tell her. “Come on, Sienna!”

“No way! You’re my best friend; you even said so!” she says madly.

“Only in childhood,” I say. “Please let me go,” Sienna glares at me.

“Only in childhood? Seriously? You think I’m going to let you go with that? No way.” she says. I start dying inside. My childhood friend hates me because I’m not spending time with her. But I won’t let that happen! “How ‘bout I spend some nice, free-time with you, Sienna? I’d absolutely love that! You’re an amazing person.” I tell her.“Depends,” says Sienna. “What’re we going to do? Seems like a stupid idea, but depends on what we’re gonna do!” I smile. She’s falling into my trap. My evil trap; it’s not really evil because she’s the evil one, but it feels evil. “That nice spa,” I say. “could be a great place to hang out! It’s relaxing”—Sienna smiles at me—“and makes you feel amazing! Wanna go?” I ask. Of course, spa-loving-Sienna says yes, so we go there. It’s called Smooth-Vibes Spa. We walk. And walk. Until we get there. “Okay, this seems nice . . . let’s go in!” Sienna says. The spa people there are great! “Welcome to Smooth-Vibes Spa, what can we do for you today? Oh, of course, let’s get you settled”—and they did—“Now, what kind of treatment would you—” Sienna interrupts, “Intense, and step on it! We don’t have all day, right, Lenny?”

“Yeah, but I’d like normal?” I say, questioning Sienna’s will to get this over with.

Sienna glares at me. “No, she doesn’t! She’s such a joker!” she says, with a fake laugh. “You’re so funny, Lenny,” she says. I shrug. “I guess,” I say.

“Oh, Lenny!” says the spa worker. “You’re not coming out of this dream,”

“What? But—no, please—no, come on! Come on, Ms…Jordan! Please—let me out. My friends and—family, they must be so worried! Come—on!” In the middle of my phrases, I shed tears. “No, Ms—Jordan! Help! I can’t do this… no, please! No—I came here to spend time—with Sienna! Just—hear me out. Have— you ever—had—a—dream where—you’re —lucid dreaming—but you can’t—get out—when you—want—to?” I ask. Ms. Jordan shakes her head. “I’m fake! I’m all part of your inescapable dream,”I’m out! For real this time. I’m out of the dream, crying. But I’m told it’s been 40 years.