by Elsy Green
“Wow.” Sophie stares speechless.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Welcome to my life.”
“You said you were with a boy named Jaxon?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“That’s the name you mumble sometimes. Jaxon, it’s always Jaxon.” She looks up at me with curiosity. “Are there other dreams with him?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“All of them.” I meet her gaze with my own look of concern. I have no idea what that means, but Jaxon is a constant reoccurring character in my dreams.
“Maybe he’s someone you’ve met before but don’t remember. Maybe he made an impression on your subconscious. I mean I read once that our brains can’t make up faces, we can only dream of those we’ve seen but may not know or remember. We’ve seen thousands of people in our lifetime, it’s possible you’re just projecting him into your dream as some sort of character for your subconscious to use.”
“I don’t know. I think I would remember this guy.”
Sophie quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh really?”
“Meaning I’ve seen him enough times by now I think I would recognize him.”
“Sure…” She smiles proactively at me knowing that’s not the whole story. I roll my eyes and flop down on to my bed. She’s right, it’s not the whole story. I have no idea what is, I have no idea what any of this is. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. Maybe you’re just a really talented author and you’re creating stories in your head. Maybe you need to start writing them down, write a book, help the ideas come out during the day.”
“You think I’m imagining a storyline with me as the main character?”
“It’s not impossible, a lot of authors see themselves as the main characters.”
“I don’t think that’s it. This feels different. It’s not something from my imagination, I’m not this creative. Trust me, I’m failing art and it’s like the only class I can stay awake in.”
Sophie flops down beside me, joining me as I stare hopelessly at the ceiling. “Could it be stemming from a book you read, or a movie you watched? What if you’re simply replaying them in your mind like a photographic memory?”
“Replaying a movie in my head?” I turn to her skeptically.
“Well, just hear me out. Maybe there was a part that spoke to you, a part that you’re subconsciously relating to it. Maybe your mind is trying to put yourself in a stressful situation in the dream state so you can figure out what to do before you have to face it in the real world. A lot of our dreams are simply practice runs for those tough situations.”
“You think my brain is preparing me for a time in my future where I’ll have to run for my life with a boy I don’t know and then end up at a rave?”
Sophie gives me a stern look like she’s tired of my sass. I let out a sigh and turn back to the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to help, but none of those scenarios make sense, none of it feels…right. Something weird is happening and I can’t figure it out.”
“Well if you had to hypothesize, what would your theory be?”
I turned to her puzzled, “if I had to hypothesize?”
“Sometimes we know more about what is going on than we care to admit. Just say the first thing that pops into your mind.” She pops on her elbow and faces me. “Allie, what do these dreams symbolize?”
I take in a long breath staring at the slow-moving fan on my ceiling as I think about her question. Without thinking, I answer her with the first thing that comes to my mind.
“Memories.”
Sophie sits up, her eyes wide with apprehension. We both know that’s not possible. I’ve never lived through something like that. I’ve never met a Jaxon or anyone like him, let alone run for my life with him. I can’t explain it; it just feels like I’ve lived it before. Like I’ve been there, like I know it.
“Come on let’s get some sleep, we still have school in the morning.” I turn away from her and pull the blankets up to my chin ignoring her stunned presence. I don’t need any more talk therapy or diagnoses for the night. I’ve had enough fun sleep walking through the streets of Greenville.
I know Sophie wants to talk about my revelation, but thankfully she gives into my please and silently crawls under the covers next to me. I hear her breathe get heavier and in seconds she’s already out. I turn to her envious of her ability to fall asleep so quickly. I won’t get that tonight, or anytime in the future, because for some reason I’m stuck staring at my ceiling terrified to close my eyes.
***
I stare at the book I’ve checked out from the library not sure what I expect to find in it. It’s a medicinal book on dreams, one that talks extensively about why we dream certain things and what they mean. I looked it up last night when I couldn’t sleep and luckily found it in our school library.
I’ve been sitting here for the last hour. I skipped my last period so I could read this book and get some answers, but I haven’t been able to open it. It’s the strangest feeling. I’m craving answers, dying to know how to make the dreams stop, yet I’m terrified of the truth and even more terrified of the dreams stopping before I figure out what they mean. So, I’ve just sat here in the middle of the high school library anxiously bouncing my knee up and down as I chew on my nails and stare at the title.
Maybe Sophie’s right, maybe I am projecting. I mean I am pretty stressed, stressed about failing high school because I keep falling asleep in class. Stressed about the fact that I’m falling asleep in classing and not sleeping at night. Stressed about moving away to a new university and picking a future career. Stressed about finals and graduation. All of this stress could be getting to me and projecting into my dreams. Maybe I’m simply trying to prepare mentally for the future. That seems like as good as answer as any.
She did say our dreams sometimes present as possible scenarios we may have to face and our subconscious is just trying to iron out what we are going to do if they occur. Maybe that’s what I’m doing, my brain is plotting the worst possible cases for my college plans and helping me figure out what I would do in those scenarios.
I mean I never thought my future would include running for my life from a perceived psychopath or meditating in a non-existent park as my young self or young Riella, whoever that is. But hey, maybe my subconscious is being creative, trying to get me to think outside the box.
I slump back in my seat knowing that’s a complete lie, my subconscious isn’t doing anything outside of the box. I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my head on the table completely giving up on finding an answer. I’m fine with living with no sleep for the rest of my life, it’s cool I’ll simply go crazy and be placed in a mental institution by the time I’m twenty.
A loud thud shakes the table my head is so depressing flung against and I startle upright just as a mountain of books slams down in front of me.
“Sorry.” Sophie cringes as she turns to the gaggle of hushing onlookers. She must not have known her own strength when she threw a pile of books at me.
“Life after Death, everything you need to know about Reincarnation?” I quirk an eyebrow as I read the title of one of the books she’s slammed down in front of me. “Do you have a paper on the ideology of reincarnation?”
“No.” She shifts through the pile of books and pulls out the biggest one flipping it open to a bookmarked page. “It’s for you.” She turns the book and shoves it in front of me.
I let out an amused chuckle. She must be kidding; she has to be kidding right? I look up at Sophie with a comical grin expecting her to be mirroring my amused state. She’s not. Her vibrant blue eyes are as serious as ever as she stares down at me. The smile drops from my lips and I swallow down in anticipation. Sophie’s here to doctor me.
“You can’t be serious; you think I was reincarnated?”
“I might. Answer this question, in your dreams are you Allie or someone else?”
“Someone else.” I blow out
a defeated breath.
“Then yes. It’s the only other explanation, you said you’re dreams feel like memories. Maybe you’re remembering parts of your previous life. Look.” She points to a section in the book and starts reading. “Dreams are reflections of the unconscious mind, and while repetitive dreams may sometimes signify trauma, fear or issues that your brain is trying to process, repetitive dreams can also potentially be reflections of past life experiences.
“It’s been estimated that about a million people have accessed past life memories in one way or another. These are called regressions and are often cathartic in that you are accessing memories that are somehow tied to physical afflictions or anxiety experienced in the current lifetime. It is believed our memories can transcend in this lifetime, continuing to remain in the depths of our subconscious.” Sophie looks up at me with an expectant stare like that should answer all my questions.
“Seriously?”
“All past, present, and future memories are stored in your subconscious, something in your life now is causing them to resurface, a stress or anxiety in this lifetime is causing your memories to resurface from a stressful or anxiety filled time in your previous life.”
“I don’t know Sophie, it’s a bit farfetched.”
“But it’s not, we usually know what’s going on in our head and bodies better than anyone else. When I asked you what you thought was going on you said the dreams felt like memories. Which means they probably are. I found an explanation. You’re reincarnated.”
“Reincarnation is the belief that part of a living being starts a new life in a different body or form after death. In my dreams I’m still me. It’s not possible.” I shake my head and shove the book back to her.
“You said you were someone else in your dreams.”
“Well, I am…I mean I’m me, but with a different name.”
Sophie frowns and stares down at the book with concentration. She flips through the pages furiously searching for some sort of explanation to my new revelation. When she doesn’t find anything, she lets out a huff and slumps down in the chair next to me.
“Okay, well, what if you are your own descendent. That’s happened before. What is your name in your dreams?”
“Riella.”
“Huh, interesting.”
“What?”
“Nothing…I just got this weird déjà vu when you said that. Anyways.” She shakes her head. “That proves my theory. If you aren’t you, but you look like you then you have to be a descendent of a previous you. That happens more times than not in reincarnation, people go back to their original family tree as someone else.”
“Again, seems like a bit of a stretch.”
“Come on!” Sophie throws her head back in exasperation. “It’s not. It makes sense, you just don’t want to believe it and I don’t know why. If we can figure out where your dreams are originating from maybe we can stop them or better yet, figure out what your subconscious is trying to tell you so you can finally sleep.”
I slump back in my chair knowing she’s right. “Reincarnation? Really?”
“Have you come up with anything better?”
“No.” I let out a long exhale as I realize I’ve come up with absolutely nothing. At least Sophie’s theory has some valid answers to some of my questions.
“Maybe it’s just a simple message your subconscious is trying to get across. Maybe something from your past life will help you right now. Or maybe it’s unfinished business.” She shrugs. “Look, there are even step by step instructions to help you get into a meditative state where you can access those memories in a controlled environment. Maybe you should try it. Maybe you should try and see what your mind wants you to remember.”
I stare absently at the instructions she pushing in front of me not at all convinced this will work. I mean I’ve already tried mediation and I simply fell asleep. Or if Sophie’s right maybe I was accessing memories. Either way it was weird and uncomfortable and I don’t really want to do it again. I just want the dreams gone, is that too much to ask for?
“What do you have to lose? You try and it doesn’t work, then we move onto the next thing. At least you’ll be doing something instead of letting yourself stay stagnant in this endless loop of insanity. I think it’s worth a shot.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes irritated at myself for suddenly being interested in a solution when she mentions insanity. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified of ending up in an institution. It’s been in the back of my mind since the day I saw Dr. Cassidy, the constant fear of going insane, or doing something I didn’t mean to. So, for now I’ll try this stupid trick and hopefully prove Sophie’s theory wrong. I take the book from her and stuff it into my backpack as she claps enthusiastically.
“Yay! It’s about time I met your alter ego!”
“She’s no alter ego.” I mumble, not quite sure why I said that or what I meant by it. I shake off the fog that threatens to overtake me again and head to my next class.
C.04
“Okay, imagine you’re in a library.”
“A library seriously?”
“Just imagine it.” Sophie sighs frustrated with my lack of cooperation. We’re both seated on my floor, me in a weird meditation pose she’s chosen for me and her sitting straight across from me with her piles of books on hypnosis surrounding her. There are incents and candles burning, all the light is blocked from my room and she’s even turned on soft melodious music to help me concentrate. It doesn’t matter, it’s not working.
“Come on, you’re not even trying. We’ve been at this for almost an hour. My back is killing me and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to pee in like five minutes from all those lemonades I just chugged.
“I told you not to drink them.”
“I can’t help it; your dad offers them to me and I drink them. it’s compulsive. I’m a compulsive lemonade drinker, bound to live my life out in a dorm room full of Carnie’s Lemonade that your dad has sent us in order to market it to our friends. But in reality, I’ll just be chugging them down like a freaking lemonade addict.” I let out an unlady like snort and steady myself with my palms so I don’t fall over laughing.
“Don’t judge!” She swats my thigh.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You know he’s only using you to get rid of his over stalked inventory. He gets new stuff in every month and has to get rid of the old.”
“Well, he’s chosen his prey well, I’ll drink these things all day.” She picks up a can and takes a long drawn out sip.
“You’re just enabling him, he thinks you like them.”
“I do!”
“Well you shouldn’t, they are chalked full of sugar and some additives I can’t even pronounce.” I pick up an empty can and point to the ingredients. “See.”
She rolls her eyes and takes the can from me. “Okay mom. Stop stalling, we have memories to remember. Get back in the mediation pose.”
“Ugh…” I complain. “This is so boring.”
“Well maybe if you focused on what I was saying you might remember something.”
I roll my eyes and get back into my uncomfortable meditation position. Palms up, fingers formed into little o’s and my legs crisscrossed one on top of the other. “Happy?”
“Yep.” She gives me a triumphant smile. “Now eyes closed and back to the library. Imagine you are inside of a library.”
“Fine. School library or public?”
“It doesn’t matter, just one with a lot of books. Imagine them as places to store your memories.”
I open an eye and stare skeptically at her. She gives me a stern look that causes me to shut both eyes and obey.
“Just trust me, you have a lot of memories you’re trying to access. We don’t want the brain to be overwhelmed. We need to store the memories in different places so you can access them one at a time.”
I blow out a long breath deciding to try it one more time. I’ll give t
his voodoo stuff one more chance. I settle into my position and imagine I’m in the library. The public library to be specific, because it’s cleaner, bigger, and has a much better selection of books.
“Okay I’m in the library.”
“Good, now imagine each one of the books in that library is filled with memories. Memories from this lifetime and memories from lifetimes before, specifically the lifetime where you are connected to Riella and Jaxon.” I do as she says imagining each one of the books holds a memory of my lifetime, each one telling a story about a piece of my life.
“Now, walk around the library, feel the books, read the titles and let your mind guide you to a memory locked in a book. Let your mind lead you to what it wants to show you.”
I breath in, seeing myself in the library. I walk around the shelves looking at each section as I wait for something to pop out at me. I’m in the mythology section when I notice a title that I’ve read before. The Sea of Monsters.
Intrigued I reach for it opening it up to my favorite passage. I start reading the first line of the page and suddenly I’m transfixed to another time. I’m no longer standing in the library, or even sitting in my room. I’ve been taken to another place entirely. Bright lights surround me at every angle. White walls enclosing me into a large, sterile room. Sort of like an operating room. That’s what it reminds me of.
I’m lying on a plush medical table, my arms and legs strapped down at my sides. There are people all around me, moving in every which direction as they hover over me, poking and prodding me in their white lab coats and surgical masks. Terrified I try to rip my arms from the table, but they don’t budge. Not a single muscle moves, I’m paralyzed.
“Is she stable?” A tall, beautiful, blonde woman waltzes through doors that effortlessly slid open. The entire room stops as they turn their attention to her. She grabs something that resembles an iPad from a table and takes a seat in front of me, tapping away at the screen.
“She is. We should be able to start submergence in ten minutes.” A male lab coat with harsh eyes nods in her direction before getting back to whatever it is he is doing to my arm. I stare up at the blonde woman intrigued by her beauty. She has a perfectly symmetrical face and prominent high cheekbones. Her eyes are a vibrant sky blue and her lips a lush red. She’s like a model, beautiful and flawless with her pearly, soft skin and long, flowing legs. And that hair, now that’s she’s closer I notice it’s not blonde like I originally thought. No, it’s more like a rare beautiful silver blonde, shinning and shimmering in the bright lights as it flows down her back in straight silky locks.