Story 1, Dreams and Nightmares
Dreams, those elusive phenomena that visit us each night, are a mysterious realm of the mind. They are a kaleidoscope of images, emotions, and narratives that unfold within the theatre of our subconscious. Ethereal landscapes where imagination runs wild and the boundaries of reality blur, dreams can be whimsical and enchanting, transporting us to fantastical realms, or they can be haunting and nightmarish, revealing our deepest fears and anxieties. They provide a canvas for our subconscious to process emotions, memories, and desires, often presenting them in symbolic and metaphorical forms. Dreams are windows into the depths of our psyche, offering glimpses of our true selves and the untapped potential of our imagination. For Miya, from the moment she closed her eyes at night, her dreams became a canvas upon which she painted worlds and breathed life into fantastical creatures. Unbeknownst to her, Morpheus, the King of Dreams watched over her as she slept, drawn by her ability to shape the realms of her imagination.
Night after night, Morpheus secretly observed as Miya conjured up breathtaking landscapes and populated them with vibrant beings. He marvelled at her creativity and the boundless depths of her mind. Miya, on the other hand, began to sense his ethereal presence, a feeling that someone was watching her, a pale figure she could see in her peripheral vision, but once she looked, he was gone, like a ghost.
One night, as her dreamscape took shape, she decided to find this enigmatic figure, intrigued and curious. She searched through her dream until she found him, everything faded away as she focused on him. His gaze turned to her, his piercing black eyes reflecting what little light there is.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice echoing through the dreamworld.
The figure responded with a voice like a gentle breeze. "I am Morpheus, the guardian of dreams," he said. But just as she had found him, he began to fade "It is time for you to wake up" shielding her eyes as a blinding white light floods the darkness, she opens her eyes to see that she's in bed. Wide awake she sits up, thinking on the man in her dream, confusion clear on her face and her mind spiralling. She focusses on her desk and the stationary on it, before jumping out of bed and starting to draw, trying to desperately cling onto the fragments she remembers of her fading dream, trying to remember his face. But like a dream, his face too, faded from her mind.
But it didn't deter her, every night she would dream, dream of her world, of the mysterious figure who called himself Morpheus. And each morning she would draw whatever she could remember of him. In her dreams they shared in her subconscious adventures, growing closer.
Years pass and Miya, now a teenager, carried the weight of her changing dreams on her shoulders. The stress of navigating her adolescence, the expectations of her parents, and the pressures at school had taken a toll on her. Sleep became elusive, and when she did manage to close her eyes, her nightmares would engulf her. In the dead of night, Miya would find herself standing on the precipice of a desolate forest. The once majestic oak trees stood skeletal and withered, their branches reaching out like bony fingers grasping for salvation. The air was thick with an eerie silence, broken only by the distant crackling of flames. As Miya ventured deeper into the nightmare, the ground beneath her feet turned to ash, scorching her skin with every step. The nightmares mirrored her waking reality. The dying trees symbolized the crumbling relationships with her loved ones, the decaying trust and communication. The burning mountains reflected her internal turmoil, the anger and frustration that threatened to consume her. And the rivers transformed into molten lava, depicting her fear of being overwhelmed by her emotions, of being swallowed by an uncontrollable force. And darker yet they grew, spawning monsters and horrors of all sorts.
Miya's heart raced as she found herself once again in the realm of her nightmares. The moonless night cast a haunting shadow over the desolate landscape, and a bone-chilling wind whispered through the twisted trees. And then, she heard it—a low, ominous growl that sent shivers down her spine. Emerging from the darkness, the shadow wolves appeared, their fierce forms blending seamlessly with the night, like liquid shadow. Their eyes burned like fiery coals, casting an eerie crimson glow that pierced through the gloom. With teeth bared and claws extended, they begin to surround Miya, their predatory instincts triggered by her presence.
She sprints through the dream realm, her heart pounding in her chest. The wolves' snarls echoed in her ears as they give chase. Their presence was suffocating, a constant reminder of her fears and insecurities. Each time their razor-sharp teeth grazed her, she felt a searing pain that echoed through her entire being. Miya's nightmares took a toll on her even in the waking world. She would suddenly jolt awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, her body trembling from the phantom pain inflicted by the shadow wolves.
The line between her dreams and reality began to blur, leaving her exhausted and on edge. But the wolves were not the only tormentors in her nightmares. The massive black serpent with ember-like glow slithered through the twisted forest, its scales glistening with an otherworldly radiance. Its presence filled the air with a suffocating weight, as if it knew every thought that plagued Miya's mind. The serpent's voice, a sinister hiss, whispered doubts and criticisms into her ears. Its venomous words seeped into her consciousness, eroding her self-confidence and igniting the ember of self-doubt within her. Miya found herself constantly trying to hide from the serpent, to outrun its relentless pursuit, desperate to escape its grasp. However, no matter how far she ran or how well she hid, Miya couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The phantom watchers, with their hollow eyes and silent gazes, seemed to be omnipresent. Whether she was being pursued by the shadow wolves or the black serpent, their eyes followed her every move, a constant reminder of the judgment and scrutiny she felt in both her dreams and waking life.
As the years dragged on, Miya's sleepless nights weighed heavily on her. Now an adult, Miya juggled her work life, struggling to keep afloat. Dark circles adorned her eyes, and her once vibrant spirit dulled. She yearned for a reprieve, for the nightmares to fade away, but they persisted, haunting her every night. And the Lord of Dreams, was nowhere to be found, the 'Guardian of dreams', well where is the guardian now?
As days turned into weeks, her nightmares grew in intensity. She fought exhaustion, she fought herself mentally, her waking hours blending with her sleep, days and nights becoming hard to tell apart and her willpower waning.
Startled awake from yet another nightmare, eyes heavy with weariness, she rubs her face and sighs. The small mantle clock chimes three times and she looks at it to check the time, there, in the reflection of the mirror above the fireplace she sees a dark figure and she turns quickly on the sofa she was sleeping on. Before her stands the presence that was missing from her dreams, Morpheus, the King of Dreams.
Shock and disbelief gripped her as she registered his presence. "You" she whispered, her voice laced with astonishment, trembling with a mix of disbelief and confusion. Her eyes widened as she stared at Morpheus, desperately trying to comprehend how he could be standing before her in the waking world. "This... this can't be real" she stammered. "You're just a dream, a figment of my imagination." She gets up and grabs a bottle of pills and the can of, now flat, fizzy drink that she had opened not long before falling asleep. She takes her medication and looks at him.
"You shouldn't still be here... Why are you still here?" usually the pills get rid of the manifesting dreams, but not this time, the doctors told her that they may not always work and that when that happens they will just increase the dose.
Morpheus held her gaze, his expression filled with understanding. "I know it's difficult to grasp, Miya," he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. "But what if I told you that the line between dreams and reality is not as definitive as you think? That sometimes, the boundaries blur, and what we believe to be imaginary can become tangible." Miya's mind raced, conflicting emotions swirling within her. The logical part of her insisted that it was impossible for Morpheus to manifest in the waking world. Yet, her heart yearned to believe in the extraordinary. "I can't trust my own mind anymore," Miya confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I close my eyes, I see... But when I wake up, it doesn't stop... I feel as though I'm losing my mind..."
Morpheus took a step closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of her uncertainty. With a tremor in her voice, Miya asked, "How can I be sure I'm not? How can I trust that what I see and feel is real?" Silently, Morpheus reached out, his hand extending towards her.
Her eyes cautiously drift to his outstretched arm, a mix of longing and trepidation reflected in her gaze. With hesitant anticipation, she stretches her hand towards his, her fingers trembling in mid-air. She hesitates, her entire being caught in a fragile moment of doubt, unsure whether to take the leap of faith or retreat back into the realm of uncertainty. Her gaze locks onto his, searching for any sign of permanence, any flicker of assurance that he won't dissipate like a mirage. In the depths of his eyes, she seeks solace—a silent plea for him to stay, to be real, to offer the solace her weary heart craves. A war rages within her: the fear of disappointment warring with the desire for connection. A part of her fears that the moment her fingertips brush against his skin, he'll dissolve into the ether, leaving her clutching at air and grappling with her own shattered hopes. Yet, something in Morpheus' unwavering gaze urges her forward, whispering that this time, it's different, that the ethereal nature of her doubts will yield to the solidity of his presence. Her hand lingering just inches away from his, suspended in limbo, her eyes beseech him, silently asking for his touch, for the validation that he's not a figment of her imagination.
It's a moment of vulnerability, of surrendering to the unknown, and the weight of her hesitation hangs palpably in the air. In that suspended moment, the world seems to hold its breath, mirroring the uncertainty echoing in her own soul. The silence amplifies, making each heartbeat resound like a thunderous drum. Her fingers tremble as they inch forward, closing the final distance between them. For a fleeting moment, time stands still. The universe holds its breath, waiting for their touch—an encounter that could shatter illusions or bring forth a profound revelation. And as her fingertips finally brush against his warm skin, a surge of electricity courses through her, dispelling the lingering shadows of uncertainty. In that electrifying touch, she finds solace. In the warmth of his hand enveloping hers, she discovers a newfound sense of grounding. And with each passing second, the doubts that once plagued her fade into insignificance, replaced by the undeniable truth that he is here, he is real, and just maybe, she isn't losing her mind after all. She breathes a sigh of relief, tears falling from her eyes. "You're real" She whispers, using all her strength to keep from crumbling to her knees
