“Ha!”, the young woman laughed at the uncoordinated kittens in the video. “That’s pretty funny. Stupid, but funny. Nice trick with the phone.”
Jenn looked at her, mouth hanging open. She snapped it closed and glared. “You were supposed to be impressed and in awe! I just levitated an object using gravity waves so precisely that it floated in front of my face long enough for me to modify the stored electrons… oh, I see. You’re messing with me.”
The woman shook her head slightly with a thin smile. “It was very impressive, but if this is all a dream, how do I know I didn’t just imagine you doing that?”
Jenn smirked. “You should be able to feel it’s true. I can’t lie to you in these dreams and you know it. I can see you’re having trouble with the idea of being in a dream. When I said it was a dream, you thought it was a fantasy your mind had created. It isn’t, dear. I’m here and this isn’t a fantasy. You need to trust your own mind.”
The young woman opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked at Jenn through narrowed eyes. “I do not trust my own mind right now. I’ll tell you why: I know dreams exist, but I can’t remember having any before this moment. I know cell phones and cat videos exist, but I can’t remember ever seeing them before. I’ve never met you before, but I have a… I don’t know… feeling, I guess, that I’ve known you my whole life. A couple minutes ago, I couldn’t concentrate enough to hold a thought for more than a couple seconds, and I couldn’t make sense of anything. So, you tell me. Why should I trust my own mind?”
Jenn sighed. “I just need you to trust me. I’m here to help you, and part of you knows it to be true. I needed to show you what I can do because you needed some hope, and I have a few other things to show you which will help us both.”
A long moment passed before the young woman responded. She started drawing in the dirt with her fingers again. A series of markings, which she traced over and over without thought. Jenn snuck a look at the markings without the woman noticing. She was staring off into the distance, deep in thought. “So, you’re in my head. How and why?”
Jenn raised her eyebrows. “My, aren’t we blunt. The how and why is something we can’t discuss yet. What we need to worry about is who’s outside the shield - the light wall - what they want, and how to stop them from getting it. They’re extremely dangerous and we need to avoid them if we can. If it comes down to it, we’re going to have to stop them.”
Jenn felt a change in the dream. Something was waking the young woman, and she couldn’t stop it. She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought only seconds would have passed in the waking world.
“Wait, those people are here to hurt us? What are we going to do?” The woman looked around nervously.
Unsure of when the dream would end, Jenn shifted the scene.
They were both standing in a room with white walls. A massive vault door covered one of the walls almost entirely. Jenn turned to the young woman and pointed towards the vault. “Your answers are in there.”
The dream began to fade. Jenn sighed. Never enough time. She, too, faded and then winked out.
She opened her eyes as another bright flash and rumble jolted her to awareness. She was laying on her side again, with an intense stabbing pain in her head. The pain quickly subsided, leaving a dull throbbing, which lasted for a few more seconds, until it, too, passed.
That was a nice nap.
She stayed motionless for a few moments until her vision cleared. Her mind felt clouded, making concentrating on anything difficult. She tried to recall the dream she had, but the harder she focused on it, the faster it slipped away. The faint sound of children playing echoed in her head.
“That light is so pretty.” She noticed the figures through the light wall a little more clearly this time, and the thin spot in it remained longer. She yelled and waved at the figures, “I see you over there! Hello! I like your uniforms!”
A faceless figure moved closer to the wall, holding something long and thin in their hands. The figure snapped the object upward, resting its end on their shoulder. A series of succinct flashes came from the other end of the object, followed by loud pops. She tilted her head, watching as small circles peppered the light wall in tiny waves, like rain pummeling water.
Maybe I should try to help them. They look nice enough, and maybe they can get the loud noises to stop. She shrugged and turned to leave them to it- wishing them good luck.
She turned to look at the swirling mass of bright color once more, then headed back into the room she’d woken up in. She didn’t know what she was doing or what she was supposed to do, but moving felt good to her.
As she walked back into the original room a huge, circular metal door in the back of the room drew her attention. Three massive, cylindrical lengths of metal were secured onto the front of the door to prevent it from opening. The door itself was completely solid and smooth, no handle to be seen. The whole structure looked, to her, like a massive vault.
“Vault,” she said, testing the word on her tongue. It sounded like it should mean something important to her.
Seated against the vault door was a girl reading a book. The girl looked down at the floor, then up to her right, and smiled. She appeared to say a few words, but no sound came from her mouth. The girl was looking towards nothing, as far as she could tell. She walked closer to get a better look. Maybe the girl knew how to help the people behind the light wall get through.
Another distant boom shook the floor beneath her. She ducked and covered her head with her arms, wincing as if about to get hit by debris. When she recovered and looked back at the door, the girl was gone. She stared in wonder at the spot where the child had been. Did I really see that?
She felt a strange pull toward the girl’s recently vacated space. She knew the young woman was important. She could feel it. But she also felt fear. Deep inside her bones, some part of her was begging her not to move forward.
“I don’t want to! Please don’t make me!” She wrapped her arms around herself, nails digging in to the white fabric of her lab coat.
The pull was irresistible.
She took a tentative step forward, then slowly shuffled over to the girl’s seat. She let the strange pull take over, pressed her back to the wall, and slid to the floor.
I know that girl. Do I know that girl? Oh, please, where is Charles?
Had the girl been from her dream? She tried, and failed, several times to remember. The images kept dissolving into mist in her mind, floating away like snowflakes on a breeze.
“This spot is nice. This… is a nice spot.” She giggled. “I can stay here. I don’t have to move. Here, I can stay.”
She held her hands in front of her so she could see them. How come I didn’t paint my nails this morning?
“Goodness. Charles, will you rub my feet later? They really do hurt. I found this hilarious cat video. You have to…” She froze. Jenn. I… I remember a dream with a girl at a school.
An image of the girl, Jenn, solidified in her mind’s eye. As it happened, the fuzziness in her head started to dissipate. A sentence floated to the top of her memories.
“Magic's just science that we don't understand yet,” she said, as images of children on a playground flashed in her mind.
She sat for a while, processing. The whole dream came back to her in great detail, the memories filling up her mind like water into a sponge. The more she remembered, the less hazy she felt.
She kept the image of the little blonde-haired girl in her mind. It felt good to hold onto a thought.
Being so hazy made her feel… helpless. She shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to her. How had she even functioned in that state? She was glad for the change, despite feeling like she’d drank way too much and was still a bit intoxicated.
Another boom sounded from the hall and fear seized her ribcage like a vise. Without the haze dimming her awareness, the gravity of her situation finally hit her. She was in danger.
She didn’t understan
d what was going on, or what was happening to her, or how to free herself from it. Anxiety crept into her veins like poison. She tried to distract herself by looking around the room. She had to figure out where she was.
It seems so familiar. The feeling helped her anxiety a little, but there were just too many unknowns for it to go away completely.
While the memories of her dream with Jenn were very clear, she had no recollection of where she was, what she was doing here, or who she was.
“What is wrong with me?” Her voiced trembled as badly as the rest of her body.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking of the quirky smile on Jenn’s face as she showed her the cat video.
She was so proud of herself and I basically laughed at her. She felt a stab of shame. Would she be able to talk with the girl again? Apologize? The thought of being completely alone sent a fresh shiver down her spine.
She sighed and looked down at her clothing to see if she could find any clues about her situation. She wore a white lab coat, which was stained with red ink and smudged with dirt. Under the coat was a simple, navy shirt and some loose fitting jeans with no proper pockets.
She took her coat off to inspect it closer, reaching into each pocket to see what she could find. They were empty except for a small unopened pack of tissues and a couple loose breath mints.
There was no name etched on the front of the coat, so she looked on the inside. On one of the tags was a name written in blue ink: Christine.
“Christine…”
It felt strange to have a name again. She was happy it was Christine. The name was nice.
“Okay. I know my name. That’s a good start.” She started pacing back and forth in front of the vault door. “There is the small matter of dreaming the dreams of a 9-year old who lives in my head. It’s okay, though, because she can do actual magic. She seems smart and to understand what’s going on.” Christine ran her fingers through her wild hair. “I’m not ready, she says. Ready for what? I’m guessing I’ll know when I’m ready, or I’ll just go mad, which I probably am already.”
She stopped, glaring at the vault door as if angry it didn’t speak up and tell her how to get inside. Jenn said it was important. There must be something in there to help them, but she had no idea what it could be.
Placing both hands on the vault door, she gave it a little push. Nothing moved. Christine sighed.
“What now, Jenn?” She said, smacking the door in frustration.
Christine
Christine stood in front of the small number pad beside the vault door. She typed numbers in at random. Maybe the code was in her mind and muscle memory would reveal the code. She huffed and threw her hands up after several minutes of failed attempts.
Christine felt around the edges of the vault door to see if there was any way to pry it open. Not even a millimeter of space was open between the seam and the wall. She pounded her fists upon the metal. “Just let me in!” She turned in a circle and prepared to kick the door, but, instead, fell forward to rest her forehead against it, knocking her head slightly on the hard surface.
“Why is this happening to me?” She could feel the anxiety creeping up again, filling her lungs like water and making it harder and harder to breathe. A sheen of sweat formed over her body despite the cold temperature of the room. She willed her mind and body to relax. “There’s no getting out of this if I don’t calm down.”
After counting to ten and slowing her breathing, Christine reached over to continue typing numbers into the pad at random. She had no practical chance of opening the door with the code. Somebody else had to know it, or maybe it was written down in an office somewhere deeper in the facility. It was time to look around to see what she could learn.
She turned around to assess the room. There were hallways directly to her left and right, and another across from her which led to the light barrier. Right seemed as good a choice as any. Christine knew it was unlikely the code would just be sitting out on somebody’s desk, but she had to try something. Waiting around in this room forever wouldn’t help the situation. Especially with those people trying to get in. The thought of them made her anxious, so she quickly turned and began her search down the hallway.
She slowed her pace as she entered the hallway. The architecture of the facility was plain. Everything was straight lines ending in 90 degree angles and the walls were painted a stark white. The drop ceilings had standard acoustical tiles, some of which showed small wet spots due to leaks from above. The floor was polished cement. It was a simple gray and had a reflective sheen to it. It looked slick, but it had an abrasive surface which gave it good traction. There was no deviation from the practical. No curves or arches to make the place more interesting. It was utilitarian to a fault.
There were offices lining either side of the hallway. Christine tried the first few she came upon, but they were locked. The doors and locks were heavy-duty and would be nearly impossible to break into, even if she knew how. She walked on and finally found a door that was unlocked.
She hesitated, cracking the door partially open to make sure no one was inside. It was dark except for a few blinking lights from a computer in the far corner. She listened for a few seconds to ensure the office was empty. Satisfied she was alone, she pushed the door open wide, stepped through the threshold, and flipped the metal light switch on her left.
The room was small with an L-shaped desk, on which sat an open laptop. A few papers were scattered across the desk, otherwise the office was sparse and tidy.
Christine walked over and picked up one of the papers. It was an invoice for an office supply order. The other papers didn’t reveal anything of note, either. Well, at least nothing interesting to Christine. She didn’t understand most of the diagrams or formulas scribbled on the papers, but spent several minutes trying to decipher anything important nonetheless. She sighed and tossed them back onto the desk, coming up empty.
“Is it too much to ask for a sticky note that says, ‘vault door code’? Why does everything have to be so hard?” The sound of her voice echoed in the empty office. She shivered, acutely aware of how alone she was.
She checked the rest of the room, trying every drawer, searching every nook and cranny. All the drawers were locked and there was nowhere else to search. She pushed open the door, returning to the hallway and clinched her fists in frustration.
She continued to hear the soft rumble of the concussions on the barrier. It was a constant reminder that she had limited time to figure this out. At some point, those people were going to get through, and Jenn said that would be a dire situation. The thought loomed over Christine like a dark cloud. At any moment, the light wall could fall and the people behind it would come spilling out to hunt her down.
She pushed the terrifying thoughts aside and continued on with a renewed sense of urgency.
She checked several more offices, but they were all locked. The whole facility appeared to be secure. Everything was locked down. She peaked in a couple bathrooms, but didn’t find anybody or anything useful. As she reached the end of the hall, she saw an area that had a partial glass wall and an open walkway into a room behind it. She made her way to the space and walked through the opening. It looked like a break area, with a small kitchen and refrigerator.
Along the back wall was a line of cabinets. The oversized lower cabinets had four doors, a sink, and two drawers. There were two upper cabinets and several long, white tables with metal folding chairs for seating. Informational posters and human resources notices hung around the room. Every surface was sparkling clean, gleaming in the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling.
Christine opened every cabinet and drawer. There had to be something useful in here. The cabinets contained the standard materials and supplies one would expect in an office kitchen. There were some cleaning supplies in the largely empty lower cabinets, and the drawers held nothing significant. She thought about grabbing a knife, but decided she would probably end up cutting herse
lf if she carried it around, so she left it.
Christine spotted a coffee maker and smiled. “Plenty of coffee and water. We can hold up in here if we need to, Jenn.” It was frustrating not to know why she said what she said. She didn’t have her memories, but she knew she liked coffee. Actually, I don’t know if I like it or Jenn does.
Next, she investigated the fridge. It was packed with food and drinks. A few of the packages were labeled with people’s names. She rifled through them and jumped when she saw one labeled “Christine”. It was a brown paper bag with her name written on it. She pulled it out, then walked over and sat at a table to look through it. She hoped there would be something - anything - in it that would help her remember who she was.
She shrugged. “I am getting pretty hungry. I hope there’s something good in here. Sorry, Jenn, I’m not sharing!” She looked around. At least no one was there to judge her for talking out loud to a little girl who lived in her head.
Christine opened the bag and pulled out a jar of Hummus, two slices of bread, a small bag of trail mix, and a red apple. She stared at the contents, frowning.
“Actually, Jenn, you can have this one. I’m just not in the mood for Hummus. I’ll find something else.” She gathered the vegan lunch and placed it back into the bag, then into the fridge. She looked through the rest of the food and found a turkey sandwich that looked edible. She poured herself a large glass of water and sat down to eat. As she ate she thought more about what Jenn had said.
My memories are there, but I can’t get to them. Her whole life felt lost to her. What kind of person was she? Did she have a family? She yearned for answers. It was maddening to feel so lost and alone. It was useless to waste more time walking around this place, looking for something she had no hope of finding.
She began to wonder if she could make herself get back into the dream to talk to Jenn. Falling asleep right now wouldn’t exactly be easy. She was far too anxious, and she didn’t have the time.
The Harmony Divide- Never Alone Page 2