Author's Note: Okay, now you have almost all that I've written, so I've got to go see what else I can come up with. This is an interesting story to write because I get to speculate on what Jarod was like before he escaped from the Centre... Let me know if you agree with me or not!
Nightmares
I don't get a lot of time to myself to think, considering the work I do. They keep me busy. Still, that's okay--I know it means I'm able to help more people.
Sometimes, though, I need some time to think for myself. I don't need very much sleep, so usually I just lay awake thinking, like I am right now. Sydney's been acting strangely the last few days. Now that I think about it, seems like everyone's been watching me lately. Are they worried about me? If so, I don't know what about; I'm healthy, and as happy as I ever am. SIMs have been fine--in fact, Sydney's been more eflusive in his praise than ever. Strange. Everything has been perfectly routine, except the nightmare I've had a few times this week. I don't even remember what it's about. I decide that must be the problem, then drift off to sleep.
Later in the night, I wake up to the sound of myself screaming. Urgently I try to remember the dream. I was being tortured, I remember, and the pain was incredible; the man who was torturing me, though, didn't look like anyone I've ever seen. Paradoxically, he seemed all too familiar in the dream. Finally I manage to calm my thoughts and get a few more hours of sleep.
When Sydney comes the next morning, he gives me a piercing glance, like he has been doing this whole week. "Is something wrong?" I ask curiously, and he smiles.
"No, Jarod, everything is fine. How are you?" As usual, he keeps the topic of conversation on me.
"I'm fine," I assure him. "I just... I had a little trouble sleeping last night, but it was nothing."
"Another bad dream?" he asks with a frown.
I nod. "This time I remembered some of it. I was being tortured. It seemed strange to me, we haven't done a SIM on anything like that in a while, and I didn't recognize the face of the man at all--I mean, I did in my dream, but not when I woke up."
Sydney purses his lips. "I'm sure it's nothing, but let me know if you still have trouble sleeping--we need you awake and alert." I nod, part of me glad that Sydney isn't too worried. I trust his judgement, he always been able to help me. He's kind of like my father, since mine's dead and he raised me growing up. I'm not sure he feels the same way, but he's all I have.
We're starting a SIM on biological warfare now. So that's why Sydney wanted me well rested. Sometimes I hate doing these SIMs; part of me finds it hard to believe that anyone would actually do this. I'm glad, though, that I can help by figuring out what they might try and fighting it.
These days I really don't have time to think. I get back to my room and I'm too exhausted to do much more than eat, lay down, and sleep. Still, there are more things nagging for my attention. I've had more dreams of that man who I can't identify, torturing me for a reason I don't know. It's not strange for me to have nightmares based on SIMs I'm in the middle of or have finished recently, but this is not normal. Something is tickling in the back of my mind, telling me this could be important. How, I have no idea, but my instinct tends to be right.
Sydney asks me about them again a week later. "I'm sleeping fine, Sydney," I assure him. He looks dubious but accepts me at my word.
Another week passes, and I'm nearing the end of the SIM. I am well and truly exhausted every day and the dreams are gone--actually, for the last week I can't remember dreaming at all. One night, while I'm eating my daily nutritional supplement before going to bed, something occurs to me--I'm not *that* tired. It's not until after I get in bed each night that I feel that overwhelming exhaustion. I have a strange suspicion (more than a suspicion, actually, I'm fairly certain) that they are drugging my food. It wouldn't be the first time; Sydney sometimes just doesn't tell me what he thinks best for me.
Now I want to know, though. I pretend to continue eating, then "accidentally" drop the bowl. If anyone's watching me (and I know they are), I make it look like I only had a little left. When I lay down, it *does* take me longer to get to sleep. Not exactly proof, but enough to confirm my suspicions.
If that hadn't been, the four nightmares that ensue are enough to convince me. One of them includes the man torturing me, once again, which I wake up from with a scream. Another involves Miss Parker, Sydney, and many other people I only partially know or don't recognize at all. I'm in a place I don't recognize, but the weirdest thing is that it's OUTSIDE. I feel this horrible need to get away from all the people, and I grab a nearby motorcycle. Someone shoots the tire out, though, and I go down. My whole body aches, and just as I'm trying to get up I am surrounded. Mr. Raines looks down at me and tells me," Welcome home, Jarod." I awake with a gasp, and it takes me a while to get back to sleep. When I do, I have the dream of the man torturing me again. This time it lasts longer, and I name him in my dream: Lyle. The name has no more significance to me than the face. My final dream involves an angry Miss Parker threatening to shoot me in the knee if I run. For some reason I have to get away, but when I try she actually shoots me! I wake up from the pure shock of that occurring, and wonder what all of this could possibly mean.
Needless to say, I'm not very well rested the next morning when Sydney comes. He walks in looking worried. "Is something wrong, Jarod?"
I learned the answer to that question long ago. "I'm fine."
"How did you sleep last night?"
"Fine," I respond obstinately. I'm surprised at myself; usually I'm very honest with Sydney.
"It's just that you look tired..." he explained.
"No, it's just that your cameras say I didn't sleep very well last night, because I didn't eat the drugged food you were feeding me!!" I exclaim, and then we are both surprised at my outburst.
"You know that the cameras are only for your protection," began Sydney after a moment, his voice soothing. I nod wearily. He gestures to the rarely used couch, and suggests, "How about you sit down and we talk about your dreams." I acquiesce silently. Once again, though, I find myself lying to him.
"I keep having that dream with Lyle in it."
"Lyle?" Sydney asks, surprised. Only then do I realize that I unconsciously used the name from the dream.
"Oh, sorry... in the dream I apparently knew him, and his name was Lyle."
"Oh," is Sydney's response, and I can't help but feel he sounds a little relieved. "I'm worried that you keep having this dream. I thought you might not be sleeping well from the stress, and that was why I had a mild sedative put in your daily nutritional supplement."
I nod. Funny how I'm not so angry about it when he explains it calmly. "But why am I dreaming about someone I've never met?"
"Do you think it might be someone from one of your old SIMs, maybe?"
"No, I don't remember anything like this. It's like a memory, but I don't..." Suddenly something falls into place. "You blocked it out of my memory!" I recognize the signs of hypnosis. (A back part of my mind takes a split second to ask me how I know that, and then disappears.)
Sydney is silent for a moment, then sighs. "You're right. It was a particularly bad SIM, a long time ago, and I had to block it from your conscious and unconscious memory so you could concentrate and sleep well. I had hoped that would continue to work, but something seems to have brought it out subconsciously. But the block appears to be more or less intact, so I'm going to suggest that you continue to have a mild sedative in the evening until the nightmare goes away of its own accord." I nod slowly. "Very well, now that we've resolved that, it's time to get to the SIM lab. We're falling behind." I stand to follow him, still thinking. I've gone through everyone in my head, and what Sydney just said doesn't explain the other dreams that I didn't tell him about. Are there *more* SIMs lost in my head? I can't help but feel a bit violated at knowing that I have so little control over my own mind.
For the next few nights, I eat my nutritional supplement, sedative and all. I must admit that the uninterrupted sleep is nice. When the SIM is finished and I don't need quite so much concentration, though, I again don't finish it--I want to see for myself if the dreams are gone or not.
They're not. I have more that night, and I am even more confused. The next morning, I have a demand.
"Undo the blocks," I tell Sydney firmly when he returns.
He shakes his head. "Sorry, Jarod, I can't do that."
I change my tone. "Please! It's going to keep bothering me and you know I can't undo it myself."
Sydney shakes his head again, looking honestly sorry that he can't agree. "Trust me, Jarod, it's better this way... And if you would eat all your food then you wouldn't have to worry about them."
I know when he's not going to budge, so I close my mouth. I go through the motions that day, starting on a new SIM, but over and over Sydney has to reprimand me to regain my attention.
That evening when I get home, I don't even fake for the cameras. I walk right past my food and to my bed.
It takes me a while to go to sleep, and when I do it's restless at best. It seems in every dream people are telling me to cooperate, trying to force me to, but I'm always trying to run. The last dream is the one that frightens me most. In it, I dream that one of my SIMs, intended to rescue someone, was being used to kidnap them instead. When I awake, I reassure myself by remembering that Sydney would never let something like that happen.
I can't hide my exhaustion from him. He shakes his head. "Jarod, why are you doing this to yourself?"
"I want to know what you've hidden in my mind... I don't like the thought that there are things that I can't remember!"
Sydney shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Jarod, but it's not my choice to make. The decision was made that it was better for you not to remember that SIM, and it is not going to be changed. He pauses. "However, in the interest of getting you to eat, I'll order the sedative taken out of your supplement."
At least that is taken care of. I know Sydney will follow through, because he knows I will know easily enough if he hasn't. Now I just hope that the dreams will go away.
I have one the next night, and then they do go away. I test one night, but it's definitely not my dinner that's helping me sleep. I'm relieved. A month passes, and things are back to the way they always are. Sydney has even stopped giving me the strange looks. The forgotten SIM slips out of my mind again. Time continues to flow by, unmeasured as always.
Nightmares
I don't get a lot of time to myself to think, considering the work I do. They keep me busy. Still, that's okay--I know it means I'm able to help more people.
Sometimes, though, I need some time to think for myself. I don't need very much sleep, so usually I just lay awake thinking, like I am right now. Sydney's been acting strangely the last few days. Now that I think about it, seems like everyone's been watching me lately. Are they worried about me? If so, I don't know what about; I'm healthy, and as happy as I ever am. SIMs have been fine--in fact, Sydney's been more eflusive in his praise than ever. Strange. Everything has been perfectly routine, except the nightmare I've had a few times this week. I don't even remember what it's about. I decide that must be the problem, then drift off to sleep.
Later in the night, I wake up to the sound of myself screaming. Urgently I try to remember the dream. I was being tortured, I remember, and the pain was incredible; the man who was torturing me, though, didn't look like anyone I've ever seen. Paradoxically, he seemed all too familiar in the dream. Finally I manage to calm my thoughts and get a few more hours of sleep.
When Sydney comes the next morning, he gives me a piercing glance, like he has been doing this whole week. "Is something wrong?" I ask curiously, and he smiles.
"No, Jarod, everything is fine. How are you?" As usual, he keeps the topic of conversation on me.
"I'm fine," I assure him. "I just... I had a little trouble sleeping last night, but it was nothing."
"Another bad dream?" he asks with a frown.
I nod. "This time I remembered some of it. I was being tortured. It seemed strange to me, we haven't done a SIM on anything like that in a while, and I didn't recognize the face of the man at all--I mean, I did in my dream, but not when I woke up."
Sydney purses his lips. "I'm sure it's nothing, but let me know if you still have trouble sleeping--we need you awake and alert." I nod, part of me glad that Sydney isn't too worried. I trust his judgement, he always been able to help me. He's kind of like my father, since mine's dead and he raised me growing up. I'm not sure he feels the same way, but he's all I have.
We're starting a SIM on biological warfare now. So that's why Sydney wanted me well rested. Sometimes I hate doing these SIMs; part of me finds it hard to believe that anyone would actually do this. I'm glad, though, that I can help by figuring out what they might try and fighting it.
These days I really don't have time to think. I get back to my room and I'm too exhausted to do much more than eat, lay down, and sleep. Still, there are more things nagging for my attention. I've had more dreams of that man who I can't identify, torturing me for a reason I don't know. It's not strange for me to have nightmares based on SIMs I'm in the middle of or have finished recently, but this is not normal. Something is tickling in the back of my mind, telling me this could be important. How, I have no idea, but my instinct tends to be right.
Sydney asks me about them again a week later. "I'm sleeping fine, Sydney," I assure him. He looks dubious but accepts me at my word.
Another week passes, and I'm nearing the end of the SIM. I am well and truly exhausted every day and the dreams are gone--actually, for the last week I can't remember dreaming at all. One night, while I'm eating my daily nutritional supplement before going to bed, something occurs to me--I'm not *that* tired. It's not until after I get in bed each night that I feel that overwhelming exhaustion. I have a strange suspicion (more than a suspicion, actually, I'm fairly certain) that they are drugging my food. It wouldn't be the first time; Sydney sometimes just doesn't tell me what he thinks best for me.
Now I want to know, though. I pretend to continue eating, then "accidentally" drop the bowl. If anyone's watching me (and I know they are), I make it look like I only had a little left. When I lay down, it *does* take me longer to get to sleep. Not exactly proof, but enough to confirm my suspicions.
If that hadn't been, the four nightmares that ensue are enough to convince me. One of them includes the man torturing me, once again, which I wake up from with a scream. Another involves Miss Parker, Sydney, and many other people I only partially know or don't recognize at all. I'm in a place I don't recognize, but the weirdest thing is that it's OUTSIDE. I feel this horrible need to get away from all the people, and I grab a nearby motorcycle. Someone shoots the tire out, though, and I go down. My whole body aches, and just as I'm trying to get up I am surrounded. Mr. Raines looks down at me and tells me," Welcome home, Jarod." I awake with a gasp, and it takes me a while to get back to sleep. When I do, I have the dream of the man torturing me again. This time it lasts longer, and I name him in my dream: Lyle. The name has no more significance to me than the face. My final dream involves an angry Miss Parker threatening to shoot me in the knee if I run. For some reason I have to get away, but when I try she actually shoots me! I wake up from the pure shock of that occurring, and wonder what all of this could possibly mean.
Needless to say, I'm not very well rested the next morning when Sydney comes. He walks in looking worried. "Is something wrong, Jarod?"
I learned the answer to that question long ago. "I'm fine."
"How did you sleep last night?"
"Fine," I respond obstinately. I'm surprised at myself; usually I'm very honest with Sydney.
"It's just that you look tired..." he explained.
"No, it's just that your cameras say I didn't sleep very well last night, because I didn't eat the drugged food you were feeding me!!" I exclaim, and then we are both surprised at my outburst.
"You know that the cameras are only for your protection," began Sydney after a moment, his voice soothing. I nod wearily. He gestures to the rarely used couch, and suggests, "How about you sit down and we talk about your dreams." I acquiesce silently. Once again, though, I find myself lying to him.
"I keep having that dream with Lyle in it."
"Lyle?" Sydney asks, surprised. Only then do I realize that I unconsciously used the name from the dream.
"Oh, sorry... in the dream I apparently knew him, and his name was Lyle."
"Oh," is Sydney's response, and I can't help but feel he sounds a little relieved. "I'm worried that you keep having this dream. I thought you might not be sleeping well from the stress, and that was why I had a mild sedative put in your daily nutritional supplement."
I nod. Funny how I'm not so angry about it when he explains it calmly. "But why am I dreaming about someone I've never met?"
"Do you think it might be someone from one of your old SIMs, maybe?"
"No, I don't remember anything like this. It's like a memory, but I don't..." Suddenly something falls into place. "You blocked it out of my memory!" I recognize the signs of hypnosis. (A back part of my mind takes a split second to ask me how I know that, and then disappears.)
Sydney is silent for a moment, then sighs. "You're right. It was a particularly bad SIM, a long time ago, and I had to block it from your conscious and unconscious memory so you could concentrate and sleep well. I had hoped that would continue to work, but something seems to have brought it out subconsciously. But the block appears to be more or less intact, so I'm going to suggest that you continue to have a mild sedative in the evening until the nightmare goes away of its own accord." I nod slowly. "Very well, now that we've resolved that, it's time to get to the SIM lab. We're falling behind." I stand to follow him, still thinking. I've gone through everyone in my head, and what Sydney just said doesn't explain the other dreams that I didn't tell him about. Are there *more* SIMs lost in my head? I can't help but feel a bit violated at knowing that I have so little control over my own mind.
For the next few nights, I eat my nutritional supplement, sedative and all. I must admit that the uninterrupted sleep is nice. When the SIM is finished and I don't need quite so much concentration, though, I again don't finish it--I want to see for myself if the dreams are gone or not.
They're not. I have more that night, and I am even more confused. The next morning, I have a demand.
"Undo the blocks," I tell Sydney firmly when he returns.
He shakes his head. "Sorry, Jarod, I can't do that."
I change my tone. "Please! It's going to keep bothering me and you know I can't undo it myself."
Sydney shakes his head again, looking honestly sorry that he can't agree. "Trust me, Jarod, it's better this way... And if you would eat all your food then you wouldn't have to worry about them."
I know when he's not going to budge, so I close my mouth. I go through the motions that day, starting on a new SIM, but over and over Sydney has to reprimand me to regain my attention.
That evening when I get home, I don't even fake for the cameras. I walk right past my food and to my bed.
It takes me a while to go to sleep, and when I do it's restless at best. It seems in every dream people are telling me to cooperate, trying to force me to, but I'm always trying to run. The last dream is the one that frightens me most. In it, I dream that one of my SIMs, intended to rescue someone, was being used to kidnap them instead. When I awake, I reassure myself by remembering that Sydney would never let something like that happen.
I can't hide my exhaustion from him. He shakes his head. "Jarod, why are you doing this to yourself?"
"I want to know what you've hidden in my mind... I don't like the thought that there are things that I can't remember!"
Sydney shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Jarod, but it's not my choice to make. The decision was made that it was better for you not to remember that SIM, and it is not going to be changed. He pauses. "However, in the interest of getting you to eat, I'll order the sedative taken out of your supplement."
At least that is taken care of. I know Sydney will follow through, because he knows I will know easily enough if he hasn't. Now I just hope that the dreams will go away.
I have one the next night, and then they do go away. I test one night, but it's definitely not my dinner that's helping me sleep. I'm relieved. A month passes, and things are back to the way they always are. Sydney has even stopped giving me the strange looks. The forgotten SIM slips out of my mind again. Time continues to flow by, unmeasured as always.