Daily Dreaming

Last night’s dream was a strange one, in that I was not present within it. I had no agency over what was happening and could only watch as a silent witness as events unfolded.

—

It started in a small town theatre, where a children’s entertainer was going through the motions on stage. The dimly lit hall was packed with little ones watching intently as magic trick after magic trick was performed. The man seemed to have the entire audience within his power; all except one boy sitting in the front row. This boy’s eyes were directed anywhere but the stage, as he glanced around frantically looking for something.

His thoughts were turned towards a voice he could hear in his head. It was a girl’s voice, not audible to anybody else but him. This boy could read minds, and he was reading this particular one because it was thinking of him. The thoughts were nasty and filled with childish disdain. He was a weirdo, the girl thought. He shouldn’t be here. He was a nuisance and a spoiler on a wonderful afternoon that should be filled with magic and fun. Why she felt this way about the boy didn’t matter. He was angry, and his anger only grew by the second. “Why should I put up with anyone thinking about me this way?”, he thought.

Reaching a boiling point, he finally pinpointed the girl in question on the far side of the row behind him. Unable to control himself, he sprang up and launched himself over the seats and towards her. The audience descended into mayhem, with shouts, screams, and cries of pain from those who had been knocked over in the boy’s violent rush to action.

It took a moment for the performer on stage to process what he had just witnessed, but then he jumped from the stage and clambered over the seats towards the screaming girl and her assailant. The boy was flinging his arms wildly with a deep rage etched on his face, and it took some strength to lift him from her and drag him away. As other adults began flooding into the theatre, concerned by the childish shrieks and screams, the boy’s consciousness faded into a red mist.

—

Some years passed, and now the boy was sitting alone in his room. His bedroom door was locked, and he liked it that way. He wasn’t interested much in leaving, or going places. Ever since that day he’d been the talk of the town, ostracized for his actions. Even when the adults kept rumours hushed up, he could hear the judgement loud and clear in everyone’s thoughts. So he was happy to be alone, because only he understood himself.

And now, he knew someone else understood him as well. He had received a letter from a mysterious source, informing him that he would soon be contacted again and that his power was a great asset.

He was special.

No-one else mattered.

He was quite bored, though. Deciding to go out and find something to do, he gently unlocked his door and crept downstairs. His parents were in the living room, watching some boring adult show, and he had become quite proficient at sneaking out. Without disturbing them, he grabbed a key from his mother’s coat pocket and slipped out the front door into a crisp winter morning.

Over the road was a bus stop, so the boy waited patiently for the next bus to arrive. When it did, he stood by the middle exit doors. When a small crowd of people departed he took his chances and hopped on board. Luckily the driver didn’t notice, so he took a seat near the back. The bus journey went on for some time, and the thoughts of the people on the bus weren’t very interesting, so the boy spent most of the time window watching. Eventually he spied a large shopping centre, his destination for the day.

Inside the shopping mall were all manner of outlets selling toys and games, but the boy headed towards a technology store in search of some DVDs to watch. A few aisles in, he came to a section displaying all kinds of players and sample TVs with various films and shows on the screens. There were not many people around, and listening out for thoughts he confirmed that he was not being watched. He slowly reached out to the lowest player, pressing the eject button and waiting for the disc tray to slide out. Then he snatched the disc and stuffed it into his large coat pocket.

Within a few minutes he had repeated this action a number of times, building up a healthy collection of stolen discs. Satisfied with his exploits, the boy made his way back towards the shop entrance. Halfway there, he caught sight of a large rack filled with the latest film releases on the corner of another aisle. Greed getting the better of him, he sidled over and began opening the cases, again sliding each disc into one of his pockets.

This time he had made a fatal mistake in not checking for any nearby store clerks, until realising this he suddenly stopped and listened. Immediately he could hear various thoughts converging on him. “That kid is suspicious, check him out” was loud and clear, and panicked the boy dropped an open DVD case as he ran for the exits. Before he could reach them, a burly guard appeared from another aisle looking straight at him. Turning in every direction, he could see staff members closing in on him. He was trapped, and the game was up.

—

Another timeskip, but only by a few days. The boy was back in his room, but now the doors and windows were locked from the outside. He was under house arrest. Not that it mattered to him – he just had to wait for this mysterious person that had contacted him to come and free him. And today was post day, so he was hoping for a letter that would prove his patience had paid off.

Listening out for the postman’s thoughts all morning, he was just about to doze off when suddenly he picked up the usual mundane musings of his neighbourhood postie. Waiting with bated breath, the boy heard footsteps coming up the stairs. His father knocked on the door and grunted “letter”, slipping it through a gap underneath before walking back downstairs.

Unable to contain his excitement the boy jumped from his bed and grabbed the large envelope, hugging it tightly. To his surprise, there were a number of letters inside the packet rather than just the one he’d been expecting. Then, as he opened the top and pulled out the first page, he saw the header. It wasn’t his saviour. It was a court ordered fine issued to him, and the other pages were details of further penalties he was to face for his actions. Heartbroken, he slumped to his knees.

—

I can’t remember any more of the dream after this. It was a pretty sad tale for my mind to create, and I’m not sure what to make of the fact that I was only witnessing from afar rather than actively participating.