Every night, it was the same dream. She was wandering the shelves of an odd looking place that resembled an odd fusion between an antique shop and a parking garage. The shelves stretched on for what seemed like forever, and she never stopped wandering until she woke up. Most nights, there were others in the dream, three others. The first was a woman, with bright, inquisitive eyes, a mane of curly black hair that tumbled down her back, and just a hint of a possibly Greek, olive tint to her skin. The second was a tall, square-jawed man who always seemed to be smiling about some joke just out of reach. The two were clearly partners of a sort; they moved fluidly together and shared private, mischievous little glances from time to time.
The third always brought up the rear, scowling and grumbling about something that she could never quite make out. He was short and portly, with glasses that were always precariously hanging off his nose. He seemed to be in charge in some capacity, as the way he followed the other two around was reminiscent of a shepherd herding his poor lost sheep.
Sometimes, they would talk to her, with wispy words that floated away when she tried to grasp them in the waking world. Other times, she moved like a ghost among the shelves, unnoticed by the others. Always, always, the place felt familiar. It wasn't strange or scary – it was home. She wanted to stay there, where the other patients couldn't touch her, where the doctors couldn't touch her. But inevitably, it had to end. And she woke up.
"Claudie! Claudie!" She awoke to someone tugging on her arm. Groaning, she rolled over onto her side and squinted up into the face of her roommate. Cammie was an older Black woman with paranoid delusions. She didn't trust anybody at the institution; yet for some odd reason, she trusted Claudia.
"Claudie, they're talkin' bout me again, you hear that? They're whispering about old Cammie, they gonna hurt her."
"No one's talking about you, Cammie." Claudia reassured her. This routine was old hat by now. "Go back to sleep." Cammie wrung her hands nervously.
"You'll keep a lookout for me? You gonna make sure no one hurts me?" Claudia nodded sleepily.
"No one's going to get past me." She vowed, holding up one hand in a sort of salute. "Scout's honor." Of course, she had actually been thrown out of the Girl Scouts after one month because she refused to do namby-pamby knitting projects, but Cammie didn't need to know that. Reassured, Cammie crept back to her bed and Claudia listened to the shuffling footsteps. She knew from experience that Cammie would be asleep within ten minutes. Sure enough, a light snoring began emanating from the next bed almost immediately. Satisfied that Cammie, at least, was safe in dream-land for the moment, Claudia burrowed under the covers and attempted to get back to sleep herself. Maybe, just maybe, if she wished hard enough, she could drift back to that place in her mind, that place of endless wonder.