DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to Charlaine Harris' characters or stories.

Such Stuff as Dreams

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on;

and our own little life is rounded with a sleep."

The Tempest, William Shakespeare

Chapter 1: Dreams

It's almost always the same dream. I am running away from a dog that is chasing me, and I am naked. I'm carrying my cell phone so I try to call for help, but the phone doesn't work. I keep running until the dog no longer follows me. I pass by a gentle stream and see a beautiful statue of what must surely be a god. I stare and admire the statue but it suddenly lifts up into the sky and flies away from me. I am unsure of where to go and what to do until I spy a small airport ahead of me. I go inside the terminal and try to buy a plane ticket. The desk attendant asks me for money as payment but I have none. I keep begging her to let me on the plane but while we are arguing, the plane leaves without me and I am filled with despair. I run back outside but it is now storming, so I just stand there: cold, wet, naked, penniless, clutching a broken cell phone, figuring that things can't get any worse. Wrong! Suddenly my teeth start to fall out… and then I wake up.

Why do I keep dreaming this bizarre series of events and what does it all mean? Who knows? Maybe if I was some brilliant college student studying abnormal psychology and I had all the time in the world to analyze it, I would have a clue. But I'm not; I'm Sookie Stackhouse, a simple telepathic barmaid from Bon Temps, Louisiana, just trying to make ends meet, and not always doing such a great job of it.

What I do know is that I am physically and mentally exhausted. Since my boss and good friend, Sam, left to go back home to care for his mom, I have been working double shifts at Merlotte's, helping to manage his bar. What should have been just a few days of helping out has turned into three weeks of stress. The last time I spoke to Sam he promised me it wouldn't be too much longer before his return. In the meantime, though, it's really hard work being a waitress, manager, accountant, and stock room worker seven days a week.

My witchy roommates, Amelia and Octavia, are fed up with me; I am moody all of the time (and sexually frustrated); I'm tired from a lack of restful sleep; my brother and I are still not on speaking terms; and I'm worried about repercussions from the recent Great Reveal (the weres and shape shifters of the world just 'came out of the forest', so to speak).

And don't even get me started about the vampires in my life. A certain Viking vampire with whom I have a "complicated" relationship and bond has been scarce these past three months. I'm sure he has a lot to deal with as the Sheriff of Area Five, given the political takeover of my state by a new vampire King. But our phone conversations have been short and infrequent, and our face-to-face time is, for lack of a better word, nonexistent. That's alright though, because we are long overdue for a conversation that I really don't want to have. I think about Eric often, though, and in more intimate ways than I'd like to admit. Pam, his vampire child and my somewhat friend, periodically stops by Merlotte's to "chat" but I know it is probably Eric's way of checking up on me. These days I am under King Felipe de Castro's protection, which is a good thing given my tendency to end up in dangerous situations involving vampires and other supernatural beings. But I digress. Back to my dreams…

"Sookie, wake up," I could hear Amelia say as she shook me awake from yet another night of fitful sleep. "Wake up! You were talking in your sleep again and you seemed really upset this time."

I sat up with a start, confused at first by my surroundings but then I slowly realized I was at home, safe in my own bed. I felt worn out, however; it had been weeks since I had a decent night's sleep.

"Was it the same dream again?" Amelia asked curiously.

"Yes, mostly," I mumbled, "but a few things were different this time. It always seems so real, though." I was getting fed up with these recurring dreams and at a loss to fully understand them.

Amelia was excited, however. "Well, we're going to figure out what it all means, Sookie. I found some books at the library this week that help interpret dreams. We're going to write everything down that you can remember so I can make sense of it all for you!" Amelia could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

Now I don't know the first thing about dream interpretation but I certainly didn't hold much stock in it. "Oh, you don't really believe any of that stuff, do you, Amelia?" I asked. "It's all psycho babble, don't ya think?" But from a quick glimpse into my roommate's thoughts, it was evident that yes, she really did believe that stuff.

"Oh, Sookie, after all you've come to know and understand this past year, how could you be so closed-minded about this?" Amelia asked incredulously. "Especially as a telepath, you know that the human mind is capable of many things. Besides, it's a proven fact that many people have the same common dreams and that frequent symbols appear to have significance." Amelia sounded quite proud of her newfound knowledge.

She continued. "Carl Jung felt that our unconscious selves share common things with all humans and reveal our deepest wishes and desires. And Sigmund Freud, well, he was all about sex. He thought dreams were erotic in meaning, like secret wish-fulfillment, and that they were filled with symbolism," she added.

Hmm… so I secretly wished to lose my teeth in a rainstorm? Pretty sexy stuff.

I sighed as I got out of bed. It annoyed me that my roommate was so anxious to dissect the workings of my unconscious (or is it subconscious?) mind; but since I was at a loss to understand it, and my dreams were becoming troublesome to me, I indulged her. "Well, since you have nothing better to do, you can psychoanalyze my dreams all you want, but only after I shower and grab a cup of coffee."

"But you'll forget everything by then! Just in the few minutes you've been avoiding this, I'll bet half of what you dreamed is already gone!" Amelia said in an exasperated tone.

"Well, too bad," I replied crankily. "I'm sure I'll have the same dream again tonight and we can regroup then, okay? For now, a shower and coffee are my priorities. I'll meet you in the kitchen in a little bit." I just couldn't deal with her perkiness right now, especially without coffee in my system.

"Fine," Amelia agreed reluctantly, "but please try to think about your dream while you're showering so that it stays fresh in your mind." With that, the witch left my room and I was left alone to wonder what exactly I was getting myself into.