Uneasy Dreams

Julie

I emerged into my room late that evening, around 10:30. My parents had already gone to bed, leaving a dinner to be warmed up in the microwave. Yummy – warmed up steak and macaroni and cheese. I ate quickly, then checked on my brother after putting my dishes away.

Finally, I sat down that night, ready to write. I flipped open my journal and began scribbling, doodling, not sure of what to write. Finally, I began.

Hey. I spent the day with Adam mostly. Today was busy…I dyed my hair purple again. Yesterday was weird, but I suppose I'll always remember that event, so I won't bother to write about it. Rob and Steve showed up later on, after Adam and I went to find Lindsey and then went down to the daycare center.

Adam had a dream, I'm pretty sure it involved me. I can't remember what I dreamed about, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't anything good because I woke up in a cold sweat.

This week has confused me. I love myself – this I don't doubt. I'm totally comfortable with myself. I can't betray myself. I can't lose myself, not like I lost the last one. I'm secure in this. I don't need anyone else right now.

Why then, do I feel the need, the pull to be with another? Damn, I can't even figure out which one I want. Adam is sweet, slightly intelligent, and even shows an interest in me. But I've known him for so long…

Rob. What the hell is up with Rob? I think he got a new girlfriend or something, because he's been avoiding me all day after last night.

Steve. Smart, way too smart for this world. Too intelligent – he'll make someone a great husband someday, but I highly doubt I'll be his wife, or even his girlfriend ever. He looks upon me as a child. Which brings me back to Adam.

Why do I feel so pulled to him? He's just a silly skater boy. I held hands with him last night. Am I that deprived, that I rely on that touch alone to fuel my sex drive? I'm pathetic! I don't want any of them. They could hurt me, or even worse, I could hurt them.

Why have the gods cursed me with this burden? I have too many secrets, some that not even you, dear diary, know of. Some things just can't be written down – it's too dangerous.

Out of my personal feelings…we're going to the mall tomorrow. Me, Adam, Rob. Steve's taking us, and mom just gave me 30$ to spend tomorrow. She's being a tiny bit more lenient on giving me money because it is nearing my birthday – August 1st. August 1st, and I will have my driver's permit, finally. Just a month and a few days from now.

I have to mention how guilty I felt yesterday, looking at all the pictures of the family. I take all that I have for granted and I really hate doing it, but I can't seem to stop. Even today, I said things to my friends that were totally disrespectful, and would have hurt them had they not known I was kidding. Is that what I want them to remember me by if I have to leave or if I accidentally die or something before my time? "Yeah, she was a bitch" That’s what they'd be saying in my epitaph. That'd actually be really amusing…

I have a feeling, an odd one, that something is going to happen soon, to turn the world upside down. But I guess I trust in the supreme powers to lead me wherever I need to go. It's in their hands, not mine. I'm just here to survive, live and learn.

That's all, I guess, I'm tired and I want some sleep.

-Julie

I shut my leather-bound notebook and set it on my computer chair. I threw the pen on my desk and laid down. My red silk nightshirt was soft, rubbing against my sore skin. My skin was much darker than it had been earlier that day. I compared the color of my arm in the bright white light of my room, to the bright white, nearly transparent skin around my navel. It was amusing, except tomorrow I'd probably wake up sunburned. Today was the first really hot day of the year. No wonder, considering it was just after the Summer Solstice – the longest day of the year.

Even though I had put my journal away, my thoughts continued to race. What about school next year? Who would my teachers be? Yeah, I did just leave, but next year I would be a sophomore, and it was supposedly a lot harder then. I’d have to do the famed and feared "Sophomore Report"…and I'd be stuck in a new environment.

I sighed, climbing under my blankets. There was too much happening. If anything, humans should learn to live for the day. Because tomorrow never really matters until it happens, and by then there's nothing that can turn back to yesterday's time of today.

It was dark. I was…I don't know which way I was facing. The only light I could see was the illumination under a door, behind me. Wasn't that where I just came from though? I shrugged, turned and walked toward the light. I reached out to the blackness, feeling for a door handle. There wasn't one on either side, and I felt the wall that was in my way. It felt like wood. Testing it, I gave it a strong push and it fell open with a thud, a cloud of dust rising to cover whatever was below the door. I stepped onto the handle-less door, and watched as the dust cleared. Below me was a white tile floor, with jumbled letters on every tile. The letters were a dark red, or a light blue, complimenting each other in a very grotesque way. There was no source of light or life, that I could see. I turned back around, to go back into the darkness, but there was a brilliant white wall there instead. Everywhere around me was white…

I awoke uneasily, to the pitch blackness of the night. My clock read 1:30 – my heart was pounding in my chest like I had been running. I don't remember what I dreamt…except…white… and black.

I rolled out of bed, stumbling to my bathroom to get a drink. As I felt the cold water fill the plastic cup, I tried to see my reflection in the dark mirror – to no avail. I put the cup to my lips and thankfully took a drink, the cool water sliding down my throat like an ice cube on a hot summer day. With nothing left to do, I returned to my bed and closed my eyes again, trying to find a good way to rest.

My body relaxed into a state of 'sleep' but my mind was perfectly aware. I was perfectly aware of what I was thinking and how I was thinking. How easy it could have been to slip into a dream, but I held onto my perception and sanity for just a few moments later.

Adam

"Hey mom, what are you doing?" I asked as I walked in the door. It was late, but mom was awake, and not at work. She was sitting at our dusty table, looking at a bunch of numbers.

"Bills. How was your day?" She glanced up at me and gave me a tired smile. Her dusty brown hair, traced with lines of gray, was a mess and unkempt, but she still looked beautiful in the evening light.

"It was alright. We didn't really do anything important. I hung with Rob and Steve and Julie all day. And the other girl, Lindsey."

"Lindsey?" She inquired, and I nodded. "You have talked about her for a while. Have I met her?"

"Yeah. She's the one with the black hair."

"The perfect one?" Mom laughed, jotting down a number or two in her checkbook.

"Who said she was perfect? I don't like her that much…we only went over there to see if she had gotten her eyebrow pierced, and then we just hung out with her for the rest of the day. We being Julie and I – Steve and Rob came along later and met us uptown as we were at the pizza shop."

"I see. You going to bed?"

"I guess, unless you need me to do anything?"

"No, not really. It'd be nice if you could play for me for a while though. The stillness of the night is killing me and I don't feel like listening to it anymore. And the radio doesn’t help – that just puts me to sleep." She confided in me. I nodded.

"Let me go grab an instrument." Even though I didn't feel like playing any sort of music right now I felt bad for mom and was willing to make her happy.

I walked into the living room and took an acoustic guitar off of the 3 guitar rack that we had. Both of us played music – before she had gotten married, then divorced, mom had worked with music and sang in the local bars. She taught me but eventually stopped playing. She said I was 10 times better than her and she no longer had a need to play.

The acoustic I chose was the one that she used to play. It was well over 20 years, even though it looked new. It didn't have any dents on it, and it was polished and shining in the dining room light. I tuned it up a tiny bit and then hit a G-chord as I walked back into the kitchen, sitting on the counter.

"What do you want to hear, mom?"

"Just you messing around with chords would be fine. I just need background noise. You don't have to do that, dear, if you're tired."

"It's fine mom. Playing gives me energy. And it makes you happy. Just the last reason would be enough to play." I grinned sheepishly at her. I slid off of the counter and sat next to her pile of bills. All over the place was her name – Stella Roades. On checks, on bills, it didn't matter. And my name, Adam Roades, wasn't anywhere to be seen.

I took mom's last name when I had the choice of last name. In my heart, I held no love for my father. He had run off on us a long time ago and left mom struggling, alone with me. I can remember the day he left, and I can't remember a time after that when I didn't hate him. He shouldn't have run away from his problems. He should have been a good father, stood up and faced his consequences. Mom always says it amazes her how unlike my father I'm. I'm purely her, she says, in actions and thoughts and deeds.

But sometimes I worry (I played an A-minor chord) that because I have his blood, I'll do that to my future wife. I'll get scared and run off on her and leave her alone and helpless. I heard those traits run in blood as well as social development.

The chord progressions harmony and dissonance provided an interesting insight to the thought trail in my head, as my mood changed, so did the chord's feel. In under ten minutes, we went from barely audible acoustic to power chords, to jazz chords to suspended and back to country style chords. I knew a ton of chords – that was obvious.

After a few minutes, mom nodded and sighed, then stood up. I believed Stella Roades was done with her bills.

"Done, mom?"

"Yeah, I'm done. Thank you. That really helped me concentrate. You going to stay up?"

"No, I don't think so. Steve's driving Julie and Rob and I up to the mall tomorrow. Its revenge against his latest job, so he says. He refuses to work tomorrow, because he's working all night tonight. I didn't sleep good at all yesterday either."

To be honest with myself, I was eager to get back to the dream Julie. I was assured today that Julie was going to be alright, and that she definitely didn't like me. I wasn't getting that vibe from her. So, in conclusion, it was perfectly okay to dream about kissing my friend. I was much too shy to actually hit on her, so I might as well give into my fantasies.

Ending on an A-suspended chord, I brought the guitar back into the living room and set it down on the stand. I went back into the kitchen, helping mom to clear the table off of her bills. We might be the only two that lived here, but we kept it neat and clean for any visitors.

I walked to my room, stripping off all of my clothes and laying down on top of the blankets. Frustrated, I crawled under the blankets and curled into a ball, like a baby. I fell asleep this way, desperate for dreams to come.