dream story

i wrote this a few years back, too. i think it's my favorite story i've ever written. the process of writing the dream was really amzing in itself. liberating. i actually felt like i was dreaming at times. i hope you enjoy it too.
charity :)

02 November 2004

I look up at the moon. It's a full one. Stars shine above, more stars than I've ever seen in my entire life. I feel a sense of expansiveness, and the hair on my arms stands up. I look down and it's daytime. My mother is standing at a distance, waving to me from the edge of a forest. She's smiling, and young. She's younger than I can ever remember her being, before she cut her hair. I think that this is what she must have looked like when I was a baby, and remember from the pictures that it is. All of a sudden I know I have to talk to her. She can help me. She's my age, and I realize this is the only opportunity I will have to talk to her like this. I run over to her and her smile grows larger. I'm running so fast I don't even feel the ground beneath my feet and I think I'm going to start flying. She opens her arms and I feel a sense of elation as I approach, knowing that finally, I'm going to get all the answers.

When I get to her, I realize that the forest she was standing next to wasn't a forest after all. Instead, I find that we are standing at the edge of a lake underneath some very large trees. These trees are so tall I can't see the tops of them, and I think that this must be what the giant sequoias look like that my grandmother used to talk about all the time. I look down at the lake and I can't even see the tops of the trees mirrored in their reflection. Looking closer, I realize that I can't see myself either. Instead, there's a small white flower, dwarfed by the trees and looking very fragile and out of place.

I look up at my mother to ask her why I don't see my reflection but she's not there. Instead, my second-grade teacher Ms. Dobson is bent down beside me, smiling. I feel the comfort of knowing she's there and look back down at the lake only to see my math workbook, with almost all of the answers completed. I feel proud and relieved, knowing the answers are right. I look across the table and see Luke, the red-headed kid who always comes to class dirty. He is grinning at me in his dirty white t-shirt. Ms. Dobson pulls me to her and gives me a big hug. The hug gets so tight that I can't see out of it anymore and from inside I hear her voice: "I'm going to hug you so hard your bones will break!"

The feeling of calm and safety dissipates. Suddenly I panic, searching for a way out. No matter where I look, there's no opening. I'm trapped in a dark cave. My feet are so heavy I can't lift them. As I look around desperately for some light that would indicate an opening, an escape into the fresh air, I realize that the cave is actually a huge body of water. Despite being underwater, the realization brings a newfound ability to move. My feeling of release has allowed me to breathe again and I relax. As I swim through the darkness, I flip over so that I'm on my back. Swimming on my back, I surface under the same full moon and sky full of stars. My strokes slow until I stop, and I feel the hard surface of the earth rise to meet me.

I feel calm and serene. The earth cradles my back and I think that the feeling of security I receive from the earth at this moment is better than the softness of any bed. I feel as if I could lie there forever, and that the earth molds itself to my back in an attempt to convince me to do so. I look up to see a shooting star, and smile. I begin to see more. At first, only one falls at a time. As I continue gazing upwards, the number begins to grow until, at some point, I realize there are stars everywhere. So many stars are falling down around me that I begin to feel dizzy. The world seems to be spinning beneath me until I realize that the stars swirling all around me are actually snowflakes. I open my mouth and try to catch some on my tongue, and close my eyes to keep them out.

I feel the snowflakes accumulating on my eyelashes and then realize that snowflakes are moving across them. My eyelids flutter open and I see you lightly brushing the snow out of my eyes. You say something to me, but I don't hear you. When I start to ask you to repeat it, I realize that what you said isn't important. What is important is that after you say it, you smile down at me.

The world flips and I'm looking down at you. I kiss you on your forehead and lay my head on your chest. I feel your arms lightly rubbing my back and roll to the side, to lie with my arm touching yours. I see our feet and they look like they are miles away. I gradually see that they are moving.

As I look up, I see that we are walking ahead now, you and I. We pass valleys full of trees that stretch for miles across and see the leaves changing before our eyes: from green to bright yellow to brilliant orange and red. We pass the fuchsia sun setting on the ocean and I feel the warm sea breeze blowing through my hair. We pass people standing on corners and trees filled with children. We pass buildings so tall we can't see where they meet the sky. The world goes by faster and faster, but we just keep walking together. I don't look at you and I know that you don't look at me, but you squeeze my hand, and it is enough.

A light rain begins to fall and we turn to look at one another. The raindrops get bigger and bigger, and I touch your face, trying to touch every raindrop as it falls. You look tenderly into my eyes and that's the last thing I see before I shut them to keep out the rain. I feel every drop, and they are falling faster now. My clothes are soaked through and heavy. I feel you begin to take them off, slowly and tenderly, a piece at a time. As you remove them, I realize I am dry underneath. I feel your hands touching my face and open my eyes.

We are lying in bed, inches from one another. "Should I get my umbrella?" I ask. You look quizzically at me. Then you smile and put your hand on my cheek. In a whisper, you ask, "Is that why you started taking off my shirt?"

Still in a daze, I look around: no answers, no water, no trees or moon.

No math homework.

My eyes come again to rest on your face, and I see that there is just you, smiling at me, and I know it is enough. I cuddle into your arms as I fall back to sleep, and I feel your skin on my lips as I smile.