Dream Makers
By J.F. Slade
“Open your eyes, Amelia.”
There’s someone in front of me. I don’t know her, but she seems to know me. She leans back against the wall and squats, sporting a mild smirk on her face. The empty white room resembles a psych ward, but this is no medical facility. I don’t know this place. I don’t know how I’m here.
“What’s going on? Who are you?”
“Relax, Amelia. Stress isn’t going to help your situation.”
I pull myself up to my feet, searching for an exit, but there are no doors or windows of any kind. I panic, as my companion remains calm. She tilts her head back against the wall and smiles.
“You only get out when they need you,” she says.
“Who are they?” Anger seeps into my voice adding to my fear.
“The ones that control us. We’re dream makers now.”
I drop to the ground, shaking my head. I refuse to believe it. I won't.
Dream makers: the few minds free enough to engage and wander, unrestrained by the code of the implants. When the population left sleep behind, we tasked the dream makers with engaging our memories and organizing.
“How long?”
“Before your assignment? Don’t worry, Amelia. It’ll be any minute now. They don’t keep you waiting.”
There’s someone in front of me. I don’t know her, but she seems to know me. She leans back against the wall and squats, sporting a mild smirk on her face. The empty white room resembles a psych ward, but this is no medical facility. I don’t know this place. I don’t know how I’m here.
“What’s going on? Who are you?”
“Relax, Amelia. Stress isn’t going to help your situation.”
I pull myself up to my feet, searching for an exit, but there are no doors or windows of any kind. I panic, as my companion remains calm. She tilts her head back against the wall and smiles.
“You only get out when they need you,” she says.
“Who are they?” Anger seeps into my voice adding to my fear.
“The ones that control us. We’re dream makers now.”
I drop to the ground, shaking my head. I refuse to believe it. I won't.
Dream makers: the few minds free enough to engage and wander, unrestrained by the code of the implants. When the population left sleep behind, we tasked the dream makers with engaging our memories and organizing.
“How long?”
“Before your assignment? Don’t worry, Amelia. It’ll be any minute now. They don’t keep you waiting.”
I’m in a small child’s bedroom. The walls are purple, the bed unmade. Clothes surround a hamper with very few items actually inside it. This is someone’s room, but it’s not mine. There are books on the shelf, but the pages are blank. This memory isn’t complete.
I cough, as a burning sensation grows in my throat. I run to the door, but the handle is too hot to touch.
“Help!”
I receive no reply. The window is barred shut, and I can't get out. Outside, a wailing woman falls on the street, staring back up me. My dreamer's mother.
I smash the glass, trying to escape my cage but to no avail. Smoke is pouring into the room as the flames surround me. It hurts to breathe, and I can't stop coughing. How long must I endure this?
I cough, as a burning sensation grows in my throat. I run to the door, but the handle is too hot to touch.
“Help!”
I receive no reply. The window is barred shut, and I can't get out. Outside, a wailing woman falls on the street, staring back up me. My dreamer's mother.
I smash the glass, trying to escape my cage but to no avail. Smoke is pouring into the room as the flames surround me. It hurts to breathe, and I can't stop coughing. How long must I endure this?
I’m back in the white room, shaking from the pain. There’s no one else with me this time, but I suspect my companion will return shortly. I try to make sense of what just happened and what I know about the dream makers, once to me just an urban legend. It had always been better to not think about them. They were the uncomfortable solution to our inevitable insanity. If we wanted to bypass sleep with the implants, we had no other choice.
Why me? What did I do? I am no one, utterly inconsequential. How many people even know my name besides my cynical cellmate?
That’s why I am perfect. My punishment for my antisocial tendencies is my life.
My cellmate appears before me. She doesn't enter through a door or anything. She's just suddenly there, looking at me surprised.
“You made it,” she says.
“How did you know my name before?”
She smiles. “You told me. You’ve been here for a while. They’ve had to reset you many times. This is the first time they didn’t.”
A while... What does that even mean? How do I measure time in this place?
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Just someone like you, someone who made the mistake of opting out. My name is Eislyn.”
“We’re not really here, are we?”
Eislyn shakes her head. “As far as I can tell, they’ve got us plugged into something. This is our mental holding area. You aren’t the first person I’ve been paired with. They never last long.”
Why me? What did I do? I am no one, utterly inconsequential. How many people even know my name besides my cynical cellmate?
That’s why I am perfect. My punishment for my antisocial tendencies is my life.
My cellmate appears before me. She doesn't enter through a door or anything. She's just suddenly there, looking at me surprised.
“You made it,” she says.
“How did you know my name before?”
She smiles. “You told me. You’ve been here for a while. They’ve had to reset you many times. This is the first time they didn’t.”
A while... What does that even mean? How do I measure time in this place?
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Just someone like you, someone who made the mistake of opting out. My name is Eislyn.”
“We’re not really here, are we?”
Eislyn shakes her head. “As far as I can tell, they’ve got us plugged into something. This is our mental holding area. You aren’t the first person I’ve been paired with. They never last long.”
I am in a dream again, but this time it’s a war zone. Guns are rattling around me, pounding in my head. I’m no history expert, but I know enough to know that there hasn’t been a conflict like this for 60 years. Whoever has this memory is old.
“Duck, you fool!” I throw myself on the ground. People are dying everywhere, with more blood than I can comprehend. I crawl to the side of a hill, perching myself next to the soldier who shouted at me.
“Maisie, what the hell were you thinking?”
Someone shoots the soldier next to me: a clean headshot. I stare at him for a minute before grabbing his gun. I've never shot anything before and don't know where to begin. The enemy soldiers are descending on me with great velocity, paralyzing me in my place. Darkness surrounds them, blocking out their faces, masking any personal connection I can make. These are Maisie's monsters. They have no other identity.
I turn around and run, as fast as possible, away from the enemy soldiers, but they are in front of me, surrounding me. I drop to the ground and cover my head before I feel the pain of their bullets piercing my flesh.
“Duck, you fool!” I throw myself on the ground. People are dying everywhere, with more blood than I can comprehend. I crawl to the side of a hill, perching myself next to the soldier who shouted at me.
“Maisie, what the hell were you thinking?”
Someone shoots the soldier next to me: a clean headshot. I stare at him for a minute before grabbing his gun. I've never shot anything before and don't know where to begin. The enemy soldiers are descending on me with great velocity, paralyzing me in my place. Darkness surrounds them, blocking out their faces, masking any personal connection I can make. These are Maisie's monsters. They have no other identity.
I turn around and run, as fast as possible, away from the enemy soldiers, but they are in front of me, surrounding me. I drop to the ground and cover my head before I feel the pain of their bullets piercing my flesh.
Eislyn is staring at me as I slowly open my eyes, uncurling myself from my crouched position.
“Intense one?”
“Aren’t they all?”
Eislyn shrugs. “Some more than others. Not everyone dreams in nightmares.”
I lean back against the wall and want to cry, but no tears form in my eyes, reminding me of the false nature of this existence. I wonder if anyone has noticed I’m gone. Most of my family is dead, and those that are still around I fell out with years before. I work from home and have a minimal social circle. Even still, someone has to notice. Someone has to miss me.
But not enough to find me. They knew that when they picked me.
“I need to get out of here.”
Eislyn looks at me amused. “And how are you going to do that?”
"We're supposed to engage in the dream, so the dreamer doesn't have to. They remain awake and functioning, no idea what's happening."
“That’s right.”
“So what if we don’t engage?”
Her skepticism is apparent and warranted. There is very little reason to assume that anything can make a difference. More likely, it will make the experience even more torturous, but I’ll do anything to never live through another dream.
“Intense one?”
“Aren’t they all?”
Eislyn shrugs. “Some more than others. Not everyone dreams in nightmares.”
I lean back against the wall and want to cry, but no tears form in my eyes, reminding me of the false nature of this existence. I wonder if anyone has noticed I’m gone. Most of my family is dead, and those that are still around I fell out with years before. I work from home and have a minimal social circle. Even still, someone has to notice. Someone has to miss me.
But not enough to find me. They knew that when they picked me.
“I need to get out of here.”
Eislyn looks at me amused. “And how are you going to do that?”
"We're supposed to engage in the dream, so the dreamer doesn't have to. They remain awake and functioning, no idea what's happening."
“That’s right.”
“So what if we don’t engage?”
Her skepticism is apparent and warranted. There is very little reason to assume that anything can make a difference. More likely, it will make the experience even more torturous, but I’ll do anything to never live through another dream.
I’m at a dinner table, with a family I don’t know or recognize. Pot roast and green beans: bland and unappetizing. I stop my hand from reaching for my fork. Instead, I sit and stare blankly.
“How was your day, sweetie?” asks the woman. The mother.
I don’t answer, avoiding eye contact and keeping as still as possible.
“Did you enjoy school?” she asks again, undeterred by my lack of response.
I keep my eyes focused forward, on nothing in particular. Now they are angry. They yell at me, throwing their food at me, covering me in slimy gravy, but still I don’t respond.
“How was your day, sweetie?” asks the woman. The mother.
I don’t answer, avoiding eye contact and keeping as still as possible.
“Did you enjoy school?” she asks again, undeterred by my lack of response.
I keep my eyes focused forward, on nothing in particular. Now they are angry. They yell at me, throwing their food at me, covering me in slimy gravy, but still I don’t respond.
My eyes open in a room that I haven't seen before. There's a tube in my mouth and needles all over me. I yank out the tube, gagging painfully before removing the rest of the equipment. I'm on a metal table, in a row of hundreds of others, unconscious like I had just been. I roll off of the table and start running. My legs hurt but I know I can make it. I reach the door and find it unlocked. No one is here.
I exit the building to find myself on a busy street, in the middle of the day. I’m only wearing a hospital gown, but I don’t let myself stress about it. I know this place. I live in this city, and I’m not far from home.
I run for many blocks to my apartment building. My door is unlocked, and I quickly turn on the lights inside. Everything is untouched, exactly how I left it.
Why would they leave it here if they knew I was never coming back?
I walk to my bedroom and pause. I’m already there, lying in my bed. My eyes are closed, and I look so peaceful.
This is my dream.
I exit the building to find myself on a busy street, in the middle of the day. I’m only wearing a hospital gown, but I don’t let myself stress about it. I know this place. I live in this city, and I’m not far from home.
I run for many blocks to my apartment building. My door is unlocked, and I quickly turn on the lights inside. Everything is untouched, exactly how I left it.
Why would they leave it here if they knew I was never coming back?
I walk to my bedroom and pause. I’m already there, lying in my bed. My eyes are closed, and I look so peaceful.
This is my dream.
I’m back in the white room, staring at Eislyn. She shrugs, and I understand.
I close my eyes.
I close my eyes.