Golden Dreaming, Summer Beseeming.

Warmth. All I knew was warmth. My fingers curled around the tendrils of grass that swayed in the serene summer weather. Peace. My eyes met the rays of light that broke through the sea of leaves that swooshed and swayed above me. One hand reached to the blue sky, as if walking on the sunny rays. 

            The sun always shone. No waking nor sleeping moment was void of the fiery friend. It was never hot, only, warm. 

            My mass of yellow curls was often admired. The compliments derived from the way they tribute the sun. Oh, the sun, never dim. In fact, anything that reminded a person of the sun was idolized. Every house was painted yellow. All clothing was drenched in the over-sweet hue that reminded us of the sun. Cars were painted yellow; as they dashed by they seemed like flashes of gold. As a happy memory that is fleeting. Memory? I don’t know where that idea came from. We have no memories. At least, not all of us…

            Sometimes, I see movies in my head. Like an illusion, but it plays out as I sleep. I used to think it normal and mundane, until I asked about it one day.

            “Good morning, sunshine! Make sure to eat before school, you wouldn’t want to miss the bus, kiddo!”

            “Yeah, good morning. Mom, did you see a vision last night?” 

            “Hmm?” Mumbled the cheerful woman in yellow-set-pajamas, focused on the screen of her phone.

            11-year-old me shifted in my seat. “You know, like a movie in your head, but kinda from a different world than ours.”

            Now I had her attention. She peered over her phone screen with a stare. The corner of her mouth lifted into a thick, sweet smile. 

            “There’s no such thing, sweetheart. When you’re asleep, you don’t see visions. Or movies, for that matter.” Was her answer, followed by a good-natured laugh.

            “But there i-i-is!” Stuttering, I tried to find words to describe it. 

            “I see visions while I’m asleep, but I remember them when I wake up. Except the houses aren’t yellow, and clothes are all different colors. And people get angry and even leak water from their eyes, and there is no sun! And-“

            “Daisy. That’s enough.” With yet another smile. But this time it was frozen. Chilling. She stared at me with the same large smile, but she sat frozen in time. Unblinking.

            “Mommy?” 

            Something strange began in me; my heart began to beat fast and my fingers trembled. What is this feeling?

            My legs began to carry me to my room; I floated up the stairs and slipped into bed, and drifted into dream land. 

            I saw nothing; then, I saw black. 

From the darkness, a tiny, moving picture appeared. Just like it did every slumber, it grew bigger and bigger until I could clearly make out what the vision was displaying. This time, I saw a four-legged creature, but it wasn’t human. A man in black clothes ran his hands over the creature and let out a laugh as the creature licked his face. Dog. Dog? 

A new scene began.

            This time, I saw a man, trembling with fear, holding a long, silver item from under his arm. A loud noise exploded in my head as he pulled its trigger. 

Then I saw what the silver trigger did. More like the damage it did. Another man lay crumpled on the floor, in a pool of red, his eyes wide. War.

            I awoke. Outside of my yellow curtains, the sun was shining. My hands met my head as I shut my eyes tightly, trying to rid my mind of war. I felt the fear I saw in the man with the silver trigger. The memory of yesterday made my fingertips grow cold. Running downstairs as fast as I could, I found my mom in the same place she was before I went to sleep. 

            “Good morning, sunshine! Make sure to eat before school, you wouldn’t want to miss the bus, kiddo!”

            An eerie feeling rose to my throat. 

            “Uhh, mom? About last night, I don’t know what I was talking about. I don’t have dreams.” Dreams? Where did that come from?

            Her eyebrows rose, “What?”

            “Our conversation yesterday at breakfast, I didn’t mean what I said.”

            “What conversation?” Now she looked at me with a mother’s concern, confusion written along the lines of her face.

            “D-Don’t you remember?”

            “Remember what?”

            I lost my appetite. Slowly, I pushed away from my chair and fetched my backpack. 

I know things I shouldn’t know. Before I realized it, I was biting my fingernails. My fingernails. The kids on the bus stared at me. I felt like staring at myself. What was I doing?! Of course they didn’t know it was a natural response to anxiety. Only I knew that. No one can know.

            School passed by quickly. I learned the same things every day. I practiced math problems, drew in coloring books, and learned proper grammar in English class. I memorized my spelling words for the upcoming Spelling Bee. Only I knew that a “bee” was also a little flying animal. It created sun-colored syrup; wouldn’t they get a kick out of that. 

            Every night I dreamt. I dreamt about astronauts, churches, baseball… and winter. A time where there was absence of heat. There was cold. I’ve never known cold; a strange feeling it is. The effect of the cold on my sleeping body was one I could never forget. In my dream, I stood in the middle of nowhere. With every passing second an increase of chills spread through my body, my feet went numb, my fingers shaking. What is happening to me?!

            It wasn’t until I realized what I was standing on that my lips began to quiver, whether from the freezing cold or the tears that could slip down my cheeks at any moment, I wasn’t sure. My foot moved slightly, taking a tentative step in front of me. The sound of the frozen water was like a deep rumble, shooting ahead of me. The tears burned my chafed cheeks, falling as fast as I imagined I could if the ice broke. 

            The adrenaline pumping through my system propelled me forward into a mindless, crazed run. The fear struck me harder than the icy waters ever could. Hearing the final tear of ice, I screamed.

            My dreams gradually became darker, and darker, until I couldn’t bear to lay my head on my pillow lest the cold waters once more engulf me, and the scenes of death and destruction plague me.

            “What is wrong with you?” My family went rigid at the sight of the tears trickling down my cheeks.

            “I can’t hide it anymore.” I stood with my arms, helpless, at my sides. My voice going an octave higher the faster the tears came. “I can’t hide it. I have dreams at night and it shows me things, real things. Our world is fake and I don’t know why we are here but we need to get out and see the real world.” My parents, still unmoving, stared at my cheeks with tilted heads.       

            This time my mother spoke up, “Daisy, we are going to take you to the doctor.”

            “No.”

            “I think it’ll be such a nice trip to see Mrs. Foster again! Won’t it?”

            My head shook ‘no’ and I backed out of the doorway. “She isn’t who you think she is.”

            “Who told you that, sweetie?” My dad asked with a smile plastered on his face.

            “The ma-man with the black coat did.” I gulped.

At the word black I received two blank stares. My mind was screaming, “THEY KNOW NOTHING.” How am I to explain something they don’t understand?!

            Then, in a moment, I was in Mrs. Foster’s office. The newly familiar feeling of fear kicked in.

            “…How did I get here?” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

            However I received a reply from Mrs. Foster, “Your parents drove you here. It seems they were- a little worried about something you said. Would you mind telling me what that is?”

Her eyes held a certain sweetness, and her smile seemed genuine.

            “I don’t know. I don’t remem-“

            “Enough of that.” Her reply held a sharpness to it.

            I watched her questioningly, while sipping from the cup she handed me.

            Realizing her change of tone, she quickly reverted to her former sweetness, “I hope you like lemon tea!” Too late for that now, lady. I know you know something.

            I noticed my vision going blurry. Raising my hands to my eyes, I saw they were spinning. I tried urgently to speak, to scream, to call my mom, my mouth wouldn’t open. The tea.

            I bolted upright. Surrounding me were long stalks of corn. As quickly as I could, my legs shakily made their way to upright position. Corn. Just corn. For as far as I can see.

            A small figure caught my attention. It was a man donning a black coat.

He walked towards me, for what felt like almost slow motion. He stepped forward. The cornstalks swayed, the clouds sailed the ocean of the sky.

            “Daisy,” At the sound of my name my breath hitched. “It’s almost time.”

            “Time for… what?” I barely managed to squeeze out of my chest.

            My hands flew to my head; it pounded and ached like a sore muscle. 

            The beeping of a monitor met my ears.

            Mrs. Foster stood over me, a tablet in her hand. From this angle, her pretty button nose was upturned, and her usually smiling lips were in a straight, hard line. 

            “I know you dream.”

            “Watcha gonna do about it?” I asked, trying to mask my fear with a smart answer.

            “Make sure you are the last person who will.” 

Two Weeks Later:

            I stirred out of a deep sleep. I hadn’t dreamt since she put that thing in my head. Pulling off my covers, I felt a slight chill run up my legs. Cold?

            I walked to draw my obnoxiously yellow curtains and stopped dead in my tracks. Shocked crawled up my skin. Outside my window, it was snowing.

            “It’s time,”

            My head whipped around to see the figure clad in black in my doorway.

            “It’s time for our worlds to collide.”