We Awaken

by Calista Lynne

  I wanted to answer, but the whole situation was so shocking I could do little more than stutter and stare as my brain attempted to come back online. Her voice hit me like lightening. I never realized how hazy dreams were until the crispness of her tone met my ears in reality. The revelation could be likened to the discovery of Mozart.

  “Answer me. How many pills did you take?” Her distress was getting through, and I was finally able to stammer out an answer.

  “Not too many. I’m not about to OD or anything.”

  “You better be right. Would you mind getting me some clothes?”

  She was gazing down at my green sheets as if they held an explanation for her nudity. My mouth was complying in about the same fashion as my arms. Both were just hanging there unable to address the situation. She turned her eyes up toward me and stared heatedly until my brain began to work again.

  “Yeah… um, I’ll just grab you a robe.”

  I tumbled off the bed and toward my closet, feeling my way in the dark. This couldn’t be real; there was no way. A creator of dreams was sitting in my bed, with skin and hair and an angry demeanor. Trying not to dwell on the insanity of the situation, I focused on the task at hand and began pushing aside the parade of sundresses behind my closet doors until I saw a pink terrycloth robe, which I presented to her from the side of the bed. Tears were starting to build up in my eyes.

  She didn’t thank me, and I made a show of turning around as she got dressed. After putting on my robe—the color’s all wrong; she doesn’t wear pink, she wears midnights—she inched over to where I stood and grabbed my arm to pull me back onto the bed. The contact was far too solid, and I convulsed a bit. She was warm and real, and I was hungry for more proof of her existence but was too scared to seek it. Our legs were dangling over the edge like when we sat together on the stage.

  There was very little holding me together at that point. When she looked over at me with her still expression and said “Hello” so gently the words were hardly more than air, I began sobbing instantly. Thankfully, there was no hyperventilation as was my normal routine. This situation overwhelmed me, and my life was getting to be too much. She squeaked worriedly when the tears started falling and shimmied closer, grabbing my head and leaning it onto her shoulder.

  I was chanting “you’re real” over and over, which earned me a mouthful of bathrobe. It smelled of my detergent, but beneath that was the scent of rainy summer evenings. Her shoulder moved slightly with every breath, and I counted each one.

  When I finished this well-earned emotional breakdown and gazed up at her, I must have looked like an absolute crime scene, but there was a sort of suppressed wonder in her eyes.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “I had no idea my appearance would affect you like that. Not that you don’t deserve it. I am absolutely furious with you.”

  “Understood. Stay pissed at me, but stay real. I can’t believe I can actually touch you. Can I please touch you?” I reached out to stroke her arm but waited until I felt her give an almost imperceptible nod before laying my hand on her.

  “How is any of this possible?”

  “You should know by now that things from the world of my creation can easily enter yours. Look at the carnation drying up over there.”

  There was no need to lift my head and look at Reeves’s flower to know it still sat on my bedside table.

  “I hadn’t ever allowed myself to exit before, but it wasn’t difficult. Although I must admit I hadn’t been expecting my clothes to vanish, not that you gave me enough time to expect anything.”

  “Why didn’t your clothes come along?”

  “They were created from whispers of creativity and illusions. Such fabric isn’t exactly compatible with the waking world, or at least that’s what I’m assuming.”

  “Great. Making clothes out of ideas. I may need a bit of time to process that on top of everything else. If you’ve always had the power to turn real, why didn’t you do it sooner? I can’t believe you’re here. It’s the most wonderful thing that could’ve happened.”

  A furious spark returned to her eyes, and she nudged me off her shoulder so we were level with each other. She moved farther back onto the bed and crossed her legs, so I mirrored her position and prepared myself for what was coming. It didn’t seem like it would be pretty. Ashlinn took a breath.

  “This isn’t a reward, so please don’t treat it like one. It’s absolutely morbid. It’s sick. You’re throwing your life away, and it just isn’t worth it. Are you insane? You could die. Then we’d never see one another again. How idiotic could you possibly be? Pills?” Her tone gradually got louder and darker as she progressed through this speech, and by the end she was seething. I reached over to her again, but she batted my hand away.

  “I changed my mind. Don’t touch me. This isn’t an accolade, me being here. This is just me getting rid of ways you can hurt yourself and making sure you don’t do it again.”

  I heard her words but wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have. Sitting across from her offered me a fabulous view of her hair even in the dark. It was remarkably short and black with curls that stood out straight from her head. She noticed my distraction.

  “You aren’t even paying attention. Do you want to end up dead? Or like your brother?”

  There was no reason for Reeves to be brought into this. Instead of going off on that, though, I decided just to tell the truth.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. You’re real, and I’m looking at you and your hair with actual eyes.”

  She jumped off the bed.

  “No, no, no. You can’t be happy right now. I need you to regret your stupid decisions. Which way is your bathroom? I’m assuming that’s where the drugs are.”

  I just stared down at the bed instead of answering.

  “Fine. I’ll find them myself. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  Ashlinn walked out the door and I was alone again. No way that would last for long.

  I leapt off the bed and began pursuing her before my brain could catch up. She was in the small bathroom across the hall, her face illuminated by strips of moonlight coming through the window’s blinds. She had my small garbage bin in one hand and was calmly chucking everything that came in a bottle and wasn’t toothpaste or hair product into it. Disdain was evident on her face.

  “Please stop,” I said meekly, wrapping my arms around myself. She just glared and tossed a bottle of liquid Tylenol. “I promise not to do it again. Now that you’re actually here, I won’t need to.” My voice was hopeful, but at this comment she dropped the portable pharmacy she was assembling and turned to me angrily.

  “No. Self-destruction isn’t cute. It isn’t romantic.”

  “Oh, like you know anything about romance,” I blurted, throwing my hands into the air. “You’re freaking asexual; you probably know as much about romance as I do. I wasn’t even sure you were real up until today and now you’re teaching me about love. That’s just brilliant.”

  The second those snarky words left my lips, I instantly regretted them. Defensiveness had gotten the best of me. It was unfair to use her sexuality against her, especially considering I might share it. Still, there was no retracting my statement, and I let it hang between us.

  I’m almost tempted to say her expression was hurt, but there was too much fury to be sure.

  “Have I ever said that I can’t fall in love? That I am incapable of romance?”

  “No,” I stuttered back, ashamed.

  “You didn’t research it, did you?”

  “Actually I did, and figuring out that I’m probably asexual too really didn’t help matters. I don’t want to be alone forever. I want to be loved.”

  God, please don’t let me cry again.

  Her expression was indescribable. She was enraged to begin with, so that emotion was expounded upon, but many others were at play as well. Now there were even more mistakes on my repertoire of regret. Her eyes were going glassy, but I would alm
ost be tempted to say she seemed… proud.

  “I’m so sorry,” I gasped out, “for everything. For the pills. My words.”

  “I figured you would be.”

  “I just really hate being alone. I was so upset, and I’m really confused right now.”

  My tears fell like the tides, and there was no stopping them as my eyes blurred. Ashlinn finally softened and pulled me into a hug so I could rest my chin on her shoulder and thoroughly soak the bathrobe.

  “I hate being alone too,” she told me, “but I can’t let you hurt yourself. Not for me. It just isn’t worth it. Look, I promise to try and help you work out the asexuality, because it really isn’t bad, if you promise to take care of yourself.”

  I nodded as best I could in my position and choked out a “Yes, of course.” I was wary, but now she wouldn’t leave immediately. I had an idea and figured it was time to grow some courage and voice it.

  “Will you stay for a while? My mother is away for three days, and even when she does come back, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out.”

  She seemed to mull this over, but her arms anchored me in place the whole time so I didn’t become anxious.

  “I’ll stay for a bit. Someone’s got to find a way to get you to that audition, anyway.”

  Elation is a troublesome thing. Impossible to describe but always explosive when felt. Of course I didn’t actually believe what she said about the auditions. It was an impossibility, but instead of being saddened at her bringing it up, I just held her tighter. We stood there in each other’s arms against the bathroom wall for a time, and soon the moonbeams would be replaced with morning sun.

  “Come on,” I told her, finally stepping back, “let me make you some tea. We can talk downstairs.” I led her to the first floor, her hand in mine, the drugs abandoned forever on the floor.

  Seven

  NOT WANTING to lie in bed endlessly in the middle of the night had made me adept at the brewing of loose teas. For the past several months, I crept downstairs when the nightmares got too bad and distracted myself with warm beverages. Therefore, my actions were habitual and I didn’t need to pay attention to my hands when making it for Ashlinn. The scent of vanilla wafted from the tin of tea leaves and permeated the air, adding another layer of calm to the situation, and I almost started wondering if I were dreaming again.

  Looking across the kitchen at Ashlinn obliterated that thought, though. It was the first time I’d ever seen her in somewhat adequate lighting, and I couldn’t stop staring, which was a good alternative to watching the tea. Her hair was barely darker than her skin, and its shortness just made her face’s pointed structure even more apparent. Sharp angles dictated her whole bone structure, with prominent collarbones and knees.

  She is a real girl breathing air in my kitchen with her bare feet on my tile floor and her arms in my robe’s sleeves.

  The kettle began whistling weakly, and before the sound could become piercing, I removed it from the heat and poured the water into a ceramic pot with the tea leaves inside. I then carried it out into the dining room and yelled behind me that she should grab some spoons and cups. Judging by the opening and shutting of cabinets, she figured out where everything was.

  I poured the tea without looking at her, then stirred in one spoonful of sugar each. After closing my eyes for a few seconds to smell the tea and regroup, I looked up and asked, “Why did you never tell me this was a possibility?”

  She just shrugged as she grabbed her china cup.

  “Didn’t want to get either of our hopes up, I suppose. I’m sure I would have told you eventually. It’s not like I expected to take human form today.”

  “So you are human? You sleep and have lungs and everything?”

  “This body is built in the same fashion as yours. I’m assuming it will tire.” She paused to take a sip. “I don’t recall ever having slept before, so that will be different. Speaking of things I’ve never done, this tea is remarkable.”

  It was actually too strong, as usual, but I grinned into my cup.

  “You’ve never had tea before?”

  “Well, I’ve never eaten or drunk anything real. Never had the need to. There are many things I’ve never felt the need to do, actually.”

  She was staring at me pointedly, not even trying to disguise what she was talking about.

  “Right,” I sighed, “I’ll say it. I don’t get this whole asexuality thing, and I’m absolutely petrified because a lot of what I’ve found out about it seems to apply to me.”

  “Like?” she asked when it became obvious I wouldn’t continue talking without coercion.

  “Cuddling without sex. Intimacy without, ya know, orgasms. That all sounds really great. I mean, I’ve never looked at someone and thought ‘Wow that’s a person I want to do the deed with’ like everyone else seems to. I’d fake it in front of Ellie and all that and just assume I’d grow to like it one day, or that I was just a freak. And now apparently it’s actually a sexuality. But….” I trailed off as Ashlinn nodded for me to continue. “Everyone else goes on about how great all that is, the kissing and the humping and all that jazz. How do I know I’m not missing out? That maybe I actually would like it? It’s gotta be pretty great for so much of everyone’s lives to revolve around the pursuit of sex.”

  “That’s something you’re going to have to find out yourself. You can still do those things and be asexual. It’s the lack of sexual attraction, not celibacy. I’m actually fond of kissing as long as the other person’s tongue doesn’t find its way into my mouth. It feels nice.”

  I tried not to be jealous, but there was a spark of resentment over who she had been locking lips with in the past, even if I had no reason.

  “Why did you kiss these people if you weren’t sexually attracted to them?”

  She winked at me. “Curiosity. And also because being a maker of good dreams has caused me to create my fair share of sex scenes. Honestly, though, I see it as more romantic than anything.”

  I screwed up my courage and looked her in the eyes.

  “Would you kiss me?”

  She refused to lose my gaze and didn’t even pause, but set her teacup down on the table. “Depends why you want me to.”

  I could have said it was because she was the most marvelous person I had ever met and I wanted to share this with her, that I didn’t think this was what I wanted, but she was someone I felt safe figuring that out with.

  Instead I just said, “Curiosity.” I felt like an idiot, and an uncomfortable one at that.

  Still, she got out of her chair and walked over to where I sat. She cupped my face in her hands and looked into my eyes, assessing and, seemingly content with what she found there, knelt down and tilted my face toward her. Then we kissed.

  The second her lips met mine a million dreams began to flicker before my still-open eyes. Futures I wanted us to have swirled through my brain as we stayed locked together. It was a short kiss, and rather chaste. When she pulled back, I didn’t know what to think.

  Actually, I did. I just didn’t want to accept it.

  Because that was something I never wanted to do again.

  “Okay, I may have never been kissed before, but I’m pretty sure something about that wasn’t natural. I saw visions.”

  She bit her lip. “I figured that might happen. I should have warned you. I am an embodiment of dreaming, so some of that seeped into you in our connection. Tell me the truth, though, did you like it? I’m not gonna be offended either way. I can deal with a life without kisses.”

  I toyed with the idea of lying to her. She said kissing was enjoyable for her, but the sincerity in those eyes as she knelt before me compelled me to be honest.

  Also the fact that she implied she wanted a life with me.

  “I’m not sure I ever need to do it again. It wasn’t bad, just not really my cup of tea.” And that was the truth. I’d had my first kiss, but it just seemed to be there, a memory holding weight, but more uncomfortable than en
joyable.

  She grinned at my answer, obviously thrilled that I was being honest.

  “We don’t have to do that again. I hope it was helpful in the reanalysis of your sexuality.”

  “Among other things.” I looked down at her before me, trying to read whatever played across her face. “You did just kiss me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

  “Only if you want it to.”

  She stood up and walked back to sit on the other side of the table and resumed sipping her tea.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted any ‘something’ more if you’re implying we can be in an actual relationship,” I told her.

  Ashlinn’s grin was infectious, and I didn’t remember ever having felt this happy in the past year without guilt.

  “You need to stop being so charming,” Ashlinn said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m not supposed to be rewarding you with this, and I keep forgetting to be upset.”

  “I’m not going to complain.”

  We drank in a silence that buzzed with elation. I had a girlfriend. If the day kept on at this pace, I’d probably end up queen of some European country by midnight. It seemed like something to talk about, but there weren’t any words. When she did speak again, I heard shame.

  “Actually, I did mean to apologize. I can’t blame you for all of this. You may have picked up the drugs, but it is a little bit my fault. I made you addicted to dreaming. I’ve spoken of Semira to you before, correct?” She took a break from this monologue to sip her tea, although it was still scalding, and I confirmed that she had told me of the other dream maker.

  “I have selfishly been keeping her away from you. People need to have nightmares or else they’d be in a perpetual haze of wanting to get back to their dreams. I did that to you and I’m sorry.”

  My nodding probably seemed a bit ridiculous at that point, but I had no words for the situation. There’s no universe where this could be construed as normal breakfast conversation, but I did my best to treat it as such. This explains why the nightly flashbacks all but vanished when Ashlinn first showed up. Funny, I hadn’t really thought about it. It just seemed to fit in with the way my life had become.