CHAPTER THREE - SLEEP ALL EYES OPEN
It’s dinnertime now, and Anton’s ordered us some Chinese takeout. I don’t like restaurant food all that much (my home-cooked meals are always way tastier), but the fact of the matter is that neither of us felt like cooking tonight and none of the things we had in the fridge or pantry really constituted a proper meal.
“We should probably go grocery shopping soon,” I say, thinking out loud as I take a few bites of sesame chicken, “I’m thinking of meals I wanna make this week, but we don’t have a ton of ingredients on hand.”
“Hm, perhaps we can go out tomorrow at some point?” Anton suggests.
“Okay,” I reply, kicking my feet absentmindedly under the table, “I’ll come up with a shopping list in the morning, then.”
We eat in silence for a bit, both in our own little worlds. I still have that nagging feeling like I’ve got something important to tell Anton, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it is. Whenever I feel as though it’s finally on the tip of my tongue, it slips away again. I sigh in frustration, loudly, and that alerts his attention.
“What’s the matter?” He asks, looking at me curiously and setting his fork down.
“When I was asleep, I had a really bad nightmare. I already told you about that,” I look at him from across the table with weary eyes, “I don’t remember what happened in it, but when I woke up I felt like something bad was going to happen. I feel like I was supposed to tell you something important, but I can’t remember what it is, and it’s really bothering me.”
“So I see… Well, if it is indeed something of great importance, surely you’ll remember when the time is right. You can always tell me then.”
I frown. I know he’s only trying to be helpful, but I really don’t think I’ll actually remember and that’s why I’m getting all worked up.
“I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. I don’t get why that nightmare freaked me out so badly, especially since I can’t even remember what even happened in it,” I complain, slouching forward, “And since I didn’t sleep well I feel just as tired as I did before my nap.”
“Sounds like stress to me. Overexertion of magic certainly takes a toll on one’s body and mind, and perhaps in your case it’s manifesting as anxiety and exhaustion.”
“I mean, ‘overexertion’? Really? It’s not really like I did anything all that crazy.”
“You hadn’t used your magic like that in almost half a year due to being on bedrest, so your body has likely become unaccustomed to that level of magic usage. That’s what I was trying to say earlier, when you’d stormed off. I was harsher in my wording than I’d intended. I suppose it’s not necessarily because of your injury, but rather from being in recovery for so long.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
Anton thinks for a moment, his expression growing uncharacteristically remorseful.
“The more I think of it, the more terrible I feel. Perhaps I rushed you into things too quickly. I should have eased you gently into using your magic again. Jodie could’ve waited a few odd weeks more for you to get your strength back, I’m sure. You seemed energetic enough, which is why I was eager to dive headfirst back into your training, but–”
“Please don’t act like this is your fault, you’re making me feel worse than I already do. I thought I was ready, too, so I’m equally to blame. But all this isn’t such a big deal, I don’t think. I just need to rest for a little bit, and then I’ll feel back to normal! Don’t worry about me so much, I’ll be alright!” My voice is a bit shaky, but I’m trying to stay optimistic despite my anxiety, “Why let just one bad day get us down?”
“You’re only acting so cheerful because you don’t want me to fuss over you,” Anton says, looking directly into my eyes, “You are a dreadsome actor. I can see right through that optimistic façade of yours.”
“Yeah, but it’s because I want to be optimistic. Fake it ‘til you make it, or whatever they say,” I get up, taking my now-empty plate with me, “Look, like I said, all I need to do is get some sleep. This isn’t something to freak out over, so please don’t be worried! I know I’ll feel back to normal in the morning, after a full night’s rest.”
“…I most certainly hope so. Forgive my anxiety, I often fear you’ll wind up losing your magic powers as I did mine. It’s something I fret about more often than not.”
“I think you’re just being paranoid. Even if I do lose them, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I mean, look at you! You’re getting by pretty alright with what you’ve got.”
“Magic is very important in this world, Hong, please refrain from having such an irreverent attitude towards it. Not everyone is blessed with such magnificent powers as you, so please don’t take that blessing for granted. You’ve already lost the ability to fly. I don’t want you losing your pyrokinetics as well.”
“I’m more than just my magic, and you are too. I think you’re being a big drama queen, Anton,” I reply flippantly, walking to the sink and rinsing off my plate and fork, “I won’t ever lose my magic. I just need to relax a bit, and I think you should too. Maybe if you weren’t so stressed all the time about the littlest things, you’d get all your powers back too.”
“If you took on a more serious attitude towards your studies and treated me with more respect, perhaps I wouldn’t have any reason to be so stressed.”
“You know, you’re being really stupid and you’re really pissing me off,” I groan, not really wanting to continue this aimless bickering with him, “If I actually do end up remembering what I was meant to tell you, I won’t even bother telling you ‘cos you don’t deserve to hear it.”
“Fine then,” Anton replies, annoyed and disgruntled, “Be that way.”
Even though he’s ticked off, I can tell he’s still a bit concerned underneath it all. I know he doesn’t like worrying about me, and I also know he doesn’t like me knowing that he worries about me. But, as he’s said countless times, it’s not something that he can really help, and it is technically part of his job as my mentor, I guess.
“Anyway, I’m going to bed now,” I say coolly as I leave my tableware in the sink, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he responds as I walk down the hallway to my room.
As I get into bed, I pull the covers over my head. All I want to do is sleep; that’s what’s most important to me right now. I need this rest more than anything. Once I’m finally settled in, I toss and turn for some time, but am eventually able to fall asleep after a while.
I wake up in a bright, cold room. Fluorescent lights from above nearly blind me, and I can hear the whir of an old air conditioner. I look around, and then realize I’m in some sort of classroom. It’s full of middle schoolers, and I can only assume that since I’m here, I’m a middle schooler too. I look around, and realize I’m in some kind of history or geography class since there’s all sorts of maps all over the walls. I’m very sure that I’m in a dream, but it’s strange because I’ve never had a dream about being in school before. This is likely because I’ve never been to an actual grade school like this; the facility I grew up in had an independent study program with no real classes or classrooms. My only experience with a school like this is seeing it in movies and TV.
I’m distracted by my own thoughts, and because of this, I don’t hear the teacher calling my name. A kid sitting next to me nudges my arm, hard. I turn to look at him, but his face is all jumbled up and I can’t make out any features.
“Hey,” the kid whispers as the other students giggle at me, “Mrs. Jones’s been callin’ on you, dude.”
I look to the front of the classroom. The teacher, who I can only assume to be Mrs. Jones is indeed calling my name, and she’s growing quite impatient.
“Um, yes, Mrs. Jones?” I ask demurely, dread creeping over me.
“Hong, what did I tell you about daydreaming in class?” She asks. Like the boy who’s sitting next to me, I can’t really make out any of her facial features. Looking directly at her is making my ears ring and eyes water, and the overhead lights are beginning to flicker.
“Uhh, I don’t… know…” My voice trails off as my classmates’ laughing grows louder and louder.
“You must pay attention to every single word of my lessons,” Mrs. Jones commands, her voice becoming distorted and wicked-sounding with every word, “Your eyes and mind must not be distracted by ANYTHING! You must focus on ME!”
I plug my ears as the ringing and laughter are getting louder and louder, but that doesn’t do anything. Mrs. Jones walks over to me, and for some reason I can’t seem to close my eyes. I’m forced to watch as her face warps into something horrific, her eyes doubling in size and bulging out of her skull as her mouth twists into an impossibly wide grin as she towers over me and makes monstrous gurgling laughing sounds. She grabs hold of my wrists, forcing my fingers out of my ears. Her long fingernails are digging into my arms, and it feels like they’re slicing me open. I can’t muster the energy to fight back or somehow run away.
Just when it feels all hope is lost, though, there’s a commotion in the back of the classroom. I turn my head to see what’s going on.
“Hey, Mrs. Jones, why don’t you leave that kid alone,” a scrawny boy with spiky blonde hair and huge glasses says, standing on top of a chair.
My eyes widen in shock. That boy looks painfully familiar.
Mrs. Jones’s grip on me tightens painfully as she gurgles angrily at the boy.
“Yeah, that’s right, why don’t you pick on someone your own age!” The boy shouts, unphased, as he launches a paper airplane at her.
The paper airplane lands square in-between her eyes, she shrieks and turns to dust and disappears as do the rest of the students in this class. Well, except for that boy in the back of the class, who gets off the chair and walks up to me. No way that it’s really–
“A-Anton?!” I ask, startled.
“In the flesh,” he replies, striking a ridiculous anime protagonist pose and smirking, “Who else would come to your rescue in a dream?”
“I didn’t recognize you! You just… You look so small.”
“Well, yes, I’m thirteen years old. And you are too in this dream. I may be smaller, sure, but how funny it is you’re nearly the same height as your adult self in reality.”
I get out of my seat.
“Ugh, fuck you! That’s not true, I’m not that short! A-And you’re one to talk! We’re at eye level right now!”
He’s still smirking smugly. I go to roll up the sleeves of my shirt to really punch him (since it’d be a fair fight now), but as I catch a glimpse of my arm I’m amazed.
“Hey, my injury is gone!”, I gasp.
“Because you’re your past self. It won’t be there because you’re your thirteen year-old self. Your hair’s even shorter, too. You look very different with short hair; it’s not dissimilar to how it was when I first met you last year,” he remarks.
“Y-You look different with short hair, too. I’m only used to seeing you with really long hair. Honestly, without the stupid side points, I wouldn’t have recognized you,” I sheepishly pull my sleeves back down and gesture to the sides of my head, much to Anton’s chagrin, “Has your hair always been like that?”
“For quite some time, yes,” he huffs, “I know, it looks incredibly stupid. When I was eleven years old or so I gave myself a horrid haircut with safety scissors thinking I could look like Jareth the Goblin King. My mother nearly cried when she saw me. Er, anyway, these two pieces at the sides of my head refused to grow any longer, and since they’re short they tend to flip upwards.”
“Um, anyway, hair lore aside, is this place like the school you went to when you were a kid?” I ask, desperate to change the subject to something less awkward.
“Just about. Sometimes the hallways shift around or there’s extra classrooms here that I know weren’t there when I was in school. Funnily enough, Mrs. Jones was actually my seventh grade history teacher. She had a terrible habit of picking on her students, and she was incredibly strict.”
“I see, she sounds pretty nightmarish,” I reply.
“Indeed she was. Made me hate the subject of history for quite some time,” Anton sighs, “She was the only teacher I’d ever had that had a real issue with me, although she had issues with almost everyone who had the misfortune of stepping foot inside her classroom.”
There’s a few brief moments of silence. The door to the classroom is open, and I swear for a second I could’ve sworn I saw a small, white-haired girl watching Anton and I from the hallway outside.
“Hong?” Anton asks, waving a hand in front of my face.
“Oh, um, sorry. I thought I saw something…” I brush past him and walk into the hallway, but of course there’s no one else there. Maybe I was just seeing things.
I turn to walk back into the classroom, but before I can, a loud beeping noise tears me away from the dream.
I jolt awake, the early morning sunlight is pouring through my closed blinds. I’m struggling to make sense of that dream… If my logic is correct, then I was actually able to somehow share one of his dreams? And we were both somewhat lucid, too, at that! I leap out of bed and rush to Anton’s room eager to share this revelation, barging in and not even bothering to knock.
“Gah! What the hell?!” Anton shouts from his bed, half-asleep with one hand on his alarm clock and the other clutching his chest in fright, “What on earth do you think you’re doing? Get out! I’ve just woken up!”
I’m quickly able to put two and two together that that beeping noise in my– our– dream was his alarm going off, thus adding credence to my theory that this was a shared dream.
“We just shared a dream!” I reply frantically, waving my arms, “We had the same dream, and we were both lucid in it!”
“Right, so we did,” he groans, his demeanor calming some, “Look, it’s five in the morning, I’ve just woken up, and I haven’t even had my coffee or gone on my morning run. Let’s wait to discuss this. I don’t want to think of the implications of this until I’m fully cognizant and in the right mindset to process complicated shit.”
“Okay,” I nod, my heart still pounding.
“Why are you just standing there? You have three seconds to kindly fuck off before I actually become angry with you.”
I nod again, and quickly rush out, closing the door behind me. It’s way earlier than I’d usually wake up, but I’m so excited and confused that I know I won’t be able to get back to sleep even if I tried to.