August 4, 8:29 a.m.
I had another dream last night. I was in a desert searching for water. My feet were blistering from the hot sand but I kept walking. There wasn’t anything around me except the pale blue sky and some bleached bones from some poor creature that couldn’t make it.
My throat was dry from calling out her name to the point I could no longer speak. I tried again, but all that came out was a cough.
But then, off in the distance, I thought I saw something. A person. I brought my hands to my forehead to block the sun for a better look. That’s when I woke up. I can’t remember anything else.
For the record I think these dream journals are stupid. What’s the point in writing this stuff down? Dr. Engle thinks they might help me uncover something about what happened. I think it’s all just bullshit. Whatever. At least I can say I wrote it down so we can discuss it later.
August 4, 6:42 p.m.
I met with Dr. Engle this afternoon. Told him everything I could remember. He took some notes. Standard session.
“Can you describe the person you saw?” he asked.
If I could, I would have. It was just this silhouette, like the faint shape of a person. I don’t know if it was a man or a woman. Dr. Engle thinks maybe it could be her. He suggested that if I see it again to get closer and reach out to it.
“If you’re able to walk towards the figure, call out to him or her. See if you can get a response.”
Easier said than done, Doc.
These dreams. You keep telling me this is how we process the world, but ever since the accident… I don’t know. It just isn’t how it used to be. It’s been 11 weeks and this is the first time I’ve even seen something that could be her. I’d give anything to see her again.
August 5, 4:19 a.m.
I saw the shadowy figure again. I was back in that desert, but this time it was dark and cold. I thought maybe I heard some thunder off behind some mountains too far ahead for me to reach. But out of the corner of my eye I saw something move.
I turned my head and that’s when I saw it. It was leaning down examining the bones I saw last night. So I walked towards it.
“Hello?” my voice croaked. “Who’s there?”
The figure stood up and looked at me, but the stars weren’t enough to light up its face. All I managed to see were a set of eyes. They looked like maybe they were blue or green? It was hard to tell.
It was about to say something but then Trixie barked. I took her outside to do her business then wrote all of this down before I could forget. It’s already getting fuzzy. Funny how dreams are so fleeting in the waking hours.
August 5, 7:54 a.m.
Took me a while, but I managed to go back to sleep. I don’t know what time. I was back in the desert though so I found those bones and waited. And waited.
I called out into the arid abyss hoping whatever I had seen would find its way back to my voice. Then in the distance, the figure emerged. It was walking towards me.
I screamed her name. The figure kept getting closer to me. It must be her. So I began to sprint towards it.
I got closer and closer, but I stopped. It’s a man? A man I have never seen before. He was older, maybe in his fifties. His hair was turning grey in some spots and he had salt and pepper stubble. What I found weird was his dark purple jacket. It looked like crushed velvet and very thick. Something much too hot to be wearing in the desert. And he wasn’t even sweating. Everything about it was just…odd.
He smiled and waved at me. I went to ask for his name, but that’s where it ends. The alarm. I’ll have to try again tonight.
August 6, 4:12 p.m.
I didn’t dream last night. For the first time in weeks I wasn’t haunted by these night terrors. Maybe it was the vodka or the bourbon. I just blacked out. I guess I could have dreamed, but it’s not like I could remember anything. Still nursing that hangover this afternoon. Dr. Engle was thrilled with me.
“You’re falling back into your self destructive patterns,” he scolded me at today’s session. “We had been making so much progress since your sobriety.”
“It was just a few drinks with friends, Doc,” I rolled my eyes. It’s the first time in months I felt like being around anyone. Doesn’t that count as progress?
Anyway, I told him about the man I had seen a couple nights ago. He wrote down some notes then told me to stay late for a hypnotherapy session. No doubt costing me extra.
“Hypnosis, Doc? You can’t be serious,” I scoffed. But he was absolutely serious.
“I think you chose to black out last night to avoid speaking to this dream figure.”
So he whipped out his metronome and lulled me to sleep right there in his office.
When I woke up, everything was a blur. I only saw flashes of pictures in my head that went by too quick. I caught a glimpse of the man’s face. I can’t remember anything else.
“Does this mean anything to you?” Dr. Engle handed me a slip of paper.
MEET ME AT THE CARNIVAL.
He said that’s what I said when I was under. Maybe the man told me to meet him? I don’t know anything about a carnival. Haven’t been to one since I was a kid. They’re not exactly my favorite place.
“Here is your assignment for tonight. I want you to think about that carnival before you fall asleep. See if you can conjure the memory in your mind and find the man. Ask him what he wants.”
Sure thing, Doc. Like this will even work.
August 6, 11:57 p.m.
This is so stupid, but here goes nothing. I’m getting ready for bed by listening to carnival music and thinking about the last time I was at one of these things. I remember the fairgrounds with dead grass and broken concrete, the smell of popcorn, sounds of bells and whistles, half burnt out strings of lights on poorly assembled rides.
I have even resorted to drinking a cup of chamomile tea with a hint of lavender to get me good and tired. I’m not going to risk waking up before I find the man. Well, wish me luck.
August 7, 9:08 a.m.
I overslept and missed my alarm. I haven’t slept that deeply in weeks. It felt great, but it’s left me with more questions. And probably more sessions with Dr. Engle. I need to write all of this down before I forget the details.
I found the man.
I focused on the carnival before falling asleep. I woke up standing at the edge of a foggy forest and just past the clearing I could see the flickering lights of the carnival. I walked towards it, my bare feet on damp grass. It must have been the early morning because the dew was fresh and the sun was not yet up.
This carnival looked deserted. I mean, it was dawn so it’s not like I would see people there. Still, I thought I’d see more employees setting up, you know? It was a ghost town. I walked through the main entrance under its tattered banner that had faded over years of traveling to who knows where.
I called out, but there was no response.
Between the abandoned rides and closed food carts, I looked for any sign of life until I saw the maroon tent. It looked like a fortune teller’s tent or something. There was smoke coming out from the top and a light glowing from the inside.
I got closer to the tent to see if there was a sign with any information, but when I could finally see the poster on the side of the tent it was too faded to read. I could make out “The Great” but the rest had been scratched off. But there was a faint picture of the man I had seen before.
“Come on in,” a voice called from inside the tent.
So I pulled back the tent flap and tiptoed inside.
The tent seemed much bigger than from what I could see on the outside. It was full of Bohemian charms and rich tapestries and stringed jewels dangingling from the rafters. There was even a small organ. In the center there was a table with a crystal ball. It was everything I imagined from a fortune telling gypsy.
“Have a seat, if you’d like. I will be out momentarily.”
The man was behind a folding screen. In the lamplight I could see his shadow putting on his coat before he came out to greet me with a friendly smile.
“Ah, I see you found the place alright,” he winked. “Care for a drink?”
He walked over to the organ and grabbed a decanter and poured two glasses of some green drink. I couldn’t tell what it was. He walked over to me and slid the glass to me before I could manage a response.
“Who are you?” I croaked. My throat was scratchy as if I hadn’t used my voice in months. He gestured for me to take a sip of the drink. So I did.
“The better question is ‘who are you?’” the man replied. “You’ve been searching for quite some time… haven’t you?”
I nodded.
“I’m looking for someone. I haven’t seen her in weeks,” I confessed. “Actually, I haven’t seen anyone in weeks… until I saw you in the desert.”
“Ah, this woman that you seek…” his voice trailed off as if lost in thought. “How important is it for you to find her?”
“It’s the only thing that matters to me anymore.” I took another sip. The drink coated my throat in a familiar burn. Absinthe. I was sure of it now.
His lips curled into a smile. “Interesting.”
“Why am I here?” I couldn’t help but blurt it out. “I mean, of all the things I’m seeing in my dreams, why you? I’ve never seen you before.”
“I only visit those who are searching for something… something only I can provide.”
He grabbed the decanter and poured himself another drink.
“What is it that you can provide?” He had my curiosity.
He paused for a long moment before bringing his eyes up to mine. “A way out.”
“What do you mean ‘a way out’?”
Before he could answer, I felt something wet on my face. I wiped my cheek. Slobber. Trixie was licking my face telling me it was time to wake up.
I’m going to bring this journal to Dr. Engle tonight to see if he can do any dream analysis to tell me what it means.
August 7, 7:47 p.m.
Dr. Engle was happy that I remembered so much from the dream, but he said that he was concerned about what some of the symbols might mean.
“Absinthe? Are you absolutely sure?”
Yeah, I think if you’ve ever had the stuff you’re pretty sure it’s Absinthe. Doc says Absinthe in dreams means one is neglecting something in their life. It could also mean difficulties in the near future, like I haven’t had enough of those in my near past.
“But Dr. Engle I want to know the man meant by ‘a way out.’ Do you think it’s possible that my psyche is trying to show me a way I can see her again?”
Dr. Engle frowned as he jotted down some notes on his clipboard. He pushed his glasses up and gave me a stern look.
“I must be honest with you. Will seeing her one more time bring you closure?”
Of course! I need to see her, to know that she’s okay. I know it’s been weeks since the accident, but I thought if I could reach out and touch her and talk to her one last time…
“Here’s what I think…” Oh boy, here we go. “You’ve always had the ability to conjure her in your dreams, but you can’t bring yourself to do it because you hold yourself responsible for what happened. I think this man you’ve dreamed up is your subconscious giving you an out that your conscious is too afraid to face.”
“So if I see him again…”
“Find out what this ‘way out’ is. It might be that if you surrender to it, you will see her again and you will finally be able to move on.”
August 8, 6:38 a.m.
I woke up just now in a cold sweat. My heart is racing and I’m trying to control my breathing. I have to remember “it’s only a dream.” It’s crazy. It’s so ridiculous and insane.
No. it’s not real. I’m just making all of this up. I mean, really? The man gives me this insane choice. I just… this is crazy! It’s all in my head.
I need a drink to calm my nerves. I’ll write what happened when I’ve settled down. No chance in Hell I’ll forget this.
August 8, 7:24 a.m.
Sorry Dr. Engle. I had to have a few drinks. I know you’ve told me that I need to stop but after last night… I needed to take the edge off.
I found myself back at the carnival and walking into that tent looking for him. He was sitting at the organ methodically playing Bach or Chopin or Beethoven. Whatever. I’m not good with the classics.
“Ah, you’re back. And sooner than I thought.” He didn’t even turn around to look at me. He just sensed me, but he kept playing.
“I need to know, what did you mean by ‘a way out?’ I’m not leaving until you tell me.” I demanded answers and I was determined to stay asleep until he told me everything that he knew.
His hands dropped on the keys with a heaviness as his head fell. He let out a sigh. “Very well.”
Picking himself up, he brushed off the wrinkles of his velvet waistcoat. He wasn’t wearing his long jacket this time. It was hanging up on a coat rack in the corner, if tents can have corners.
“You’re going to want to have a seat for this,” he stretched his arm out towards the chair. It began sliding across the rug behind me until it touched the back of my legs and I fell into it.
“What…what’s going on?”
“Kid, I’m going to level with you. I’m not what your therapist says I am.”
How did he know I was seeing a therapist? What the hell is going on?
My eyes followed as he sauntered around the room. I hadn’t noticed before how the man liked to talk with his hands.
“How did you move that chair? Who are you? What is it that you want?” I was so full of questions that my lips wanted to rattle off, but the man lifted his finger to his mouth and shushed me.
“I’m what you might call… a dream thief,” he said nonchalantly like I’m supposed to know what that means.
My eyes narrowed as I looked at him with a puzzled expression. What is a dream thief?
“I bet you’re wondering what that means,” he continued to saunter around the tent. “You see, I travel from dream to dream. I meet a lot of people, see lots of places. Really it’s quite nice.”
“So, you’re not my inner psyche or…”
“No,” he laughed slightly. “Nothing like that. I was a person at one time many, many years ago.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Does that mean he’s a ghost? Am I being haunted? Tormented by a demon for what I did?
“What do you want with me?” It’s the only question I could think to ask out of the numerous thoughts swirling in my mind.
“You see, kid, I’ve been searching a long time for someone like you. Someone who’s searching. And boy was I grateful when I jumped into your dream,” he smiled. “To think I was actually going to steal it… but then you spotted me.”
“Steal my dream?”
“Dreams,” he clarified. “All of them.”
“I don’t understand.” I tried to get up from the chair but it’s like I was frozen to the spot.
He grabbed the decanter and poured himself a drink then perched himself against the organ.
“A long time ago, I met a woman in my dreams. A gypsy woman in a tent much like this. I was searching for something and she offered me a way out,” he took a sip. “Thought about it for a few days then made up my mind.”
“What were you searching for?”
“A way to live forever.”
“But I don’t want…”
“You might think you don’t want to, but you do,” he cut me off. “I can see it in your eyes.”
His eyes flashed a shimmering gold for just a split second. I couldn’t be sure of what I saw. I mean, it’s a dream world. Things don’t always make sense, and he was speaking nonsense.
I tried to wake myself up, but I couldn’t. I felt myself shaking in that chair and desperately trying to snap myself back to reality.
“You won’t wake up, kid. Not until we’re through talking.”
“How are you doing this?”
But he didn’t answer me. He just continued into his sick sales pitch.
“The way I see it, you have two options that will solve your problems.”
“Which are?”
“You take my hand and come with me.” He walked over to his coat and put it on. “I’ll teach you how to bend reality, how to slip into all the dreams you could possibly imagine, show you worlds you could never dream of.”
He walked back over to me and put his hands on my shoulders and looked deep into my eyes.
“Or, I take your dreams away completely. You’ll never see me – or anything else – ever again.”
I wasn’t falling for his snake oil. There had to be a catch to both of his propositions.
“Of course, each choice comes with a trade off.”
It’s like he could read my mind.
“If you really want to see her again, you come with me,” his voice was smooth. “You’ll live forever, but you will exist here in this realm between reality and the unconscious. You’ll have to hop from dream to dream to survive.”
“It’s not just hopping from dream to dream though. There has to be more to it than that,” I said with a mix of fear and curiosity. “You said you were going to steal my dreams. What does that mean?”
“You’re right, kid. To live forever, you must steal the dreams from others.”
“What happens to them when you steal the dreams?”
His eyes went blank, emotionless. “They die.”
“You kill people?” My heart raced and panic set in. I tried to get out of that chair again but I was trapped. I still couldn’t wake up.
“Unfortunately, but it’s the price to pay for immortality,” he stood back up and checked his pocket watch in the inside pocket of his coat. “When you stop dreaming, you die. So, if you choose to give up your dreams know that it means a slow death. Either way, you’ll be reunited with her.”
My eyes widened. I could be with her again? Either in this dream world or in death. This can’t be real. This is insane, right?
“I’ve given you a taste of option A. Now I’ll give you a taste of option B. The choice is yours,” he smiled. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
He snapped his fingers and everything went black. That’s when I woke up in a puddle of sweat in my bed.
August 9, 8:02 a.m.
No dreams last night.
August 10, 9:21 a.m.
No dreams again.
August 11, 8:39 a.m.
Another night of no dreams. I feel like I’m starting to get a cold. I guess that’s why I haven’t been dreaming?
August 12, 9:01 a.m.
This is the fourth night in a row I haven’t had any dreams. The man in my dreams. He couldn’t be real, could he? We’ll find out when I see Dr. Engle today what’s going on.
August 12, 4:27 p.m.
Dr. Engle was alarmed at my appearance and insisted I get a physical.
“Have you been sleeping? You look unwell.”
I’ve been sleeping, I think. I just haven’t been having any dreams. That’s why I haven’t reported back to him for a few days. There was nothing to talk about. The dreams were just gone.
He held up a mirror and made me look at myself. I hadn’t noticed how bad the dark circles had gotten nor the thinning of my face. Guess I haven’t had much of an appetite this week.
“You haven’t seen the man in a few days?”
“No, I told you already,” I yelled. “The man is gone. He must have stolen my dreams like he warned me. What other explanation is there?”
Dr. Engle tried to calm me down. I was irritable and irrational. I started coughing so he handed me a tissue to cover my mouth. I pulled it away after my cough attack. Drops of blood. Was the man right? Am I slowly dying without my dreams?
“Dr. Engle, what’s happening to me?”
“I believe you’re making yourself sick. You conjured this idea in your subconscious and you want to believe it so badly that you’re making yourself physically ill.”
No, I wouldn’t purposely make myself sick. If I was going to do that I would have done that weeks ago in the height of my grief. I rolled my eyes and stormed out of the office. Dr. Engle dashed after me but I was already gone. I don’t need his condescension.
August 13, 7:58 a.m.
Another night without dreams. It’s getting harder for me to breathe. I ended up seeing a doctor for this cough. I called off work because of this upper respiratory infection. I’m going to take some medicine, drink some tea and try to go back to sleep.
August 14, 11:53 a.m.
I slept for like 14 hours but I don’t feel anymore rested. This infection isn’t going anywhere. I’m just getting weaker. I wish I could see the man again. I keep hoping each night that he’ll visit me so I can know for sure if this sickness is his doing or if it’s really all in my head.
August 15, 2:37 a.m.
My wishes were granted. The man came back to me. I wonder if he could hear my thoughts.
I remember falling into a deep sleep thanks to the cough syrup and waking up in the desert again, the place that started it all.
I looked around the vast sand dunes to see if I could spot him. There were the familiar sun bleached bones I had seen before. I waited by them as I had before, waiting for him to meet me.
The heat was unbearable, but there was a storm approaching quickly. I felt the wind blowing hot sand into my eyes.
“Hope you weren’t out here waiting too long for me,” a familiar voice chimed from behind me.
I turned around to see the man in the velvet coat smiling at me. “I had to make a few other house calls.”
“Am I dying?”
“I wanted to give you a taste of what it’s like to live without your dreams. Not fun is it?”
He looked at his pocket watch then back at me.
“So, have you made your decision? I’d like to have an answer before we get drenched in this storm. I haven’t got an umbrella.”
“If I go with you, do you promise that I’ll see her again?”
The lightning cracked overhead and the rain started to drop on my face. The once bright desert was now dark under the cover of the heavy storm clouds.
“I swear on my life, you two will be reunited,” he stretched out his hand. “I can take you to her. She’s waiting for you.”
The thunder grew louder and louder and the wind howled ferociously. It was all I could do to yell over the noise. I had to know.
“Tell me, when she was in the coma… did you visit her?”
“Kid, why do you think she was in the coma?”
I pulled away from his hand. All this time, this man was the reason she was trapped in that bed, stuck in some dream world.
“I gave her the choice that finally set her free,” he continued. Even as he yelled over the storm his voice was like silk. “Come with me and you can live forever with her.”
Despite my anger towards the man for her suffering, my choice was clear. I had seen my reality withering away. If there was any chance he was telling me the truth, there was only one thing to do.
I grasped his hand. He let out a jolly laugh and smiled. “And so it begins.”
I felt myself slipping back to reality, but I took one last moment to survey my desert as it was washed away by the rain. The bones floated towards me. I gasped. They weren’t bones anymore. It was my decaying corpse.
When I woke up, my cough was gone. I felt reborn. The infection was gone. I could breathe again. A wave of peace washed over me.
August 15, 10:36 p.m.
For the first time in a long time, I can’t wait to go to sleep tonight. I grabbed my chamomile tea with a dash of lavender.
I’m getting sleepy now so it’s time to end this journal entry and go to bed.
I don’t know what will happen next or what will happen to me. He said training will begin the next time I see him.
And soon, he will take me to her.