Most would have thought that I would have immediately gone back. Immediately gone back to the dream world. But they were wrong. I was terrified, terrified, of going back, of ever dreaming again. In the beginning, it might have been different. Before I went into Limbo, I probably would have immediately gone back without a second thought. Nothing could replace the absolute pure creativity and endless possibilities of the dream world. All of the buildings I couldn't create in reality could be imagined in the dream world with no limitations. There are no "No that's impossible", no "It defies all the rules of Earth and gravity and physics, it can't happen." In the dream world, your mind is free. Who could pass that up? Well, I could, and will always pass that offer up.
Just the thought of Limbo and dreaming and what had happened chilled me to the bone. Even though Cobb and Saito woke up and were fine, being in Limbo changed me, scared me. Immediately after I arrived at my hotel in Los Angeles, I threw up. Extreme sickness took over for days. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I didn't dream.
Most would have thought that my college grades would have dropped, that I would have lost my focus, drifting off into daydreams. But, again, they were wrong. Actually, I excelled in my studies. I got all of my projects in early; I passed my mid-terms with flying colors and I was model student. Though as well as I was doing, Miles sometimes sent worried glances my way whenever I turned in yet another perfect paper or impeccable sketch.
When the dreams did start again, I forced myself awake. I would always pinch myself, just to make sure I was awake and to keep myself from dreaming again. Though I never, never, used my totem. How could I? How could I trust it? How could I let something as so small as a tip of a bishop distinguish a dream from reality? So I left my bishop deep in the recesses of my bedside drawer, never to be used again.
The dreams usually consisted of what happened during the Inception job. Flashes of Mal coming at me with a sharp knife, projections staring menacingly at me, images of Limbo frequently crept their way into my dreams, or should I say nightmares.
"Never be afraid to dream bigger, darling," Eames had once said, but I was afraid. I was afraid to dream and I couldn't help it. I wanted to be unafraid of dreaming. How could I be afraid of my own mind, of my own subconscious? I couldn't help it; I didn't want to end up back in Limbo.
I still haven't been contacted by any of the team, nor have I tried to contact them. It's been almost a year, but I had no desire to see any of them. Even the sound of their voices would bring back memories and dreams of moments I did not want to relive. Now, don't get me wrong, I wanted Cobb to be happy with his children and I wanted the others to be doing well, but to hear from them would rip my world apart and maybe even make me lose my sanity, which was already starting to fray at the edges. Could dreaming really make you go insane? I don't know, it depends on how sane you are to begin with.
I do admit, I am a very curious and down to earth girl, but since the dream world and Limbo has plagued my thoughts like a highly infectious disease, I spend most of my time trying not to dream or trying not to think about dreaming in any way, shape or form. The rest of the time I spend trying to go about my daily routine, trying to forget about everything that happened, and trying make things go back to the way they were. But what use is it? As I have said before, the dream world has plagued my thoughts!
Even now as I sit upon my leather coach in my expensive flat that I purchased with my share of the Inception money, I dream of not dreaming. I dream of a day when dreams will leave me at peace in reality and in this world. I rubbed my temples where I felt a painful migraine coming on. All these thoughts of dreaming were giving me a headache! Exhaustion was also creeping up on me. Sleep, sleep with no dreaming would do me good. Maybe it would put me at peace for a few days. Maybe it would give me time to relax and let the dust settle…
The sharp, blaring sound of my phone went off suddenly, making me flinch in surprise. I slowly picked it up and answered, "Hello?"
"Ariadne, we need to talk."
AN: This is my first attempt at an angsty fic. Though I don't know if it really is! I still don't know if this is going to be an Eames/Ariadne fic or an Arthur/Ariadne fic, though feel free to request one or another. I still don't know what the actual plot is going to be, I just had to write this chapter! So this might become something, but, again, I have no clue. I hope you enjoyed it and review please! :D