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Synopsis: Chesulloth finds herself trapped within her own mind. At first, she is lured in with offerings of pleasantries while she sleeps. Then, her sleeping body is bound and she is plunged into all her deepest fears, forced to endure ordeal after ordeal. The only way out is to overcome her fears, but her fears aren't all they seem on the surface.
Table of Contents
Sweet Dreams
Chesie sucked at the draughts that had sunk to the bottom of her tea. She pulled the cup from her lips in disappointment as she realized that mixture had contained the last of her favorite chamomile tea. The heavy mug clunked onto her bedside table as she groaned in dismay.
So much for relaxation.
She pushed the thought from her head. Everything had to be perfect for her routine to stimulate the sweetest dreams. Reaching for a book beside the mug, she flipped through the pages of the short story anthology to find her bookmark.
At least she could rely on a good short story before bed.
She snuggled deeper into her plush comforter and rubbed her feet together for warmth. Her eyes settled on the title page of the story her bookmark led her to.
"Keep Smiling, a short on overcoming fears," she read aloud. A smile tugged at her cheeks. This would be a good one. She began reading.
Her mind wandered.
She remembered the digits on her paycheck last month, the arms of her last lover, and the softness of her sheets. Things that made the hint of a smile dance upon her lips.
Her mind touched on every subject there was, sweeping the corners of her thoughts to generate new fantasies for her daydreams, but it strayed from one spot in her memory. That spot had grown dark from neglect. What was there? The girl had forgotten. But it didn't matter. What she could remember was bright and beautiful. And it made her smile.
All that mattered were the butterflies, her favorite cup of tea, those soft sheets, and her expensive clothes.
These things made her happy, so she always made sure they surrounded her, inside her thoughts and out. She was always smiling.
But sometimes, something would call her from that dark spot. It would call her name. She hated hearing it. But whenever she heard it, she felt warmth. Something was missing. She felt that it could restore to her the emotion that came with a smile. But she also felt that it could take her smile away forever. She didn't want that. She loved to smile.
Could she live her life without the something that was missing? She seemed to be doing fine without it. But she couldn't help wondering what was in that dark space. But she also had no desire to seek that answer. What if it was an answer she didn't want?
Her mind continued to wander, empty with the thoughts of butterflies and expensive clothes. A smile stretched across her face but her eyes were full of tears.
Is this what it means to conquer your fears?
Flash fiction? Chesie frowned and put the book back on the bedside table. How had that avant-garde piece made it into her bedtime anthology? She stared warily at the cover of the book, brightly colored characters beaming up at the ceiling. Fear? What place did it have in such a happy collection? And how did the girl in the story overcome her fear?
Chesie heaved a sigh and pulled the covers up to her chin. She began to think happy thoughts to push the eerie story out her mind. Butterflies, ponies, tea. Her eyelids began to lower and she reached lazily to the lamp. With a click, the lamp was out and her head was buried in her pillows.
She gave a huge yawn and rolled over. Her hands clutched at her sheets. They felt softer than usual. Her eyes fluttered open, her mind fuzzy from the warmth of sleep. She stared down at unfamiliar lime green sheets. The color burned her mind awake and she sat up, silken sheets cascading from her shoulders. She looked around wildly at her unfamiliar settings-tall posts rose from the corners of the bed and ended at the ceiling. The floor was covered in thick, plush carpet that rolled its way to an open balcony, where a soft, warm breeze tumbled in.
Wasn't it the middle of winter?
Chesie threw back the sheets in glee as it dawned on her that her own mind had created this marvelous mansion. Her feet sunk into the puffy carpeting and immediately took her to the balcony. She eagerly leaned over the low railing to peer down at the wonders her imagination developed. Her heart jumped in fear as she looked over the edge and saw nothing but darkness. She took a sharp breath and that darkness instantly filled with freshly cut green grass. She sighed in relief and leaned over the low edge of the balcony against to run her hands through the grass. A small critter hopped onto her hand from a blade of grass and she let out a shrill scream, wringing it ungracefully from her fingertip.
She stumbled backwards onto the balcony, her chest heaving as she regained her composure. The sun shone brightly above her and birds chirped on as if her unnatural scream could not possibly disturb their tranquility.
She turned back to face the bedroom. This was her dream. She wouldn't let a bug ruin it. Her eyes swept across the green sheets and high posts of the bed. Was this a lucid dream?
A smile tugged at her lips.
"Let there be diamonds!" She proclaimed in a booming voice as she imagined a sea of them pouring forth from the door beyond the bed. Like her image, large uncut diamonds poured through the door and tumbled under the bed. One came to a roll by her foot. She knelt and picked it up, running a finger over its rough surface.
"If only I could take this out of my dream," she whispered in awe, admiring the reflection of the fluffy black crown framing her face.
"Now, let's save some time on this hair!" She thought back on the elaborate braided styles of the Nigerian women in photos she'd found in idle research and watched in awe as her hair began to braid itself.
She felt her chest poke out in pride at her appearance. "A queen deserves a throne," she spoke suggestively to the air around her.
A low rumble reverberated against the soles of her feet and she noticed the floor beneath her become uneven as she rose up above the bed. The floor continued to rise up around her body until her arms were resting on pillars. Something pressed against her knees and her butt fell into a cushion.
Her fingers gripped the edges of her new throne. "If only every dream were like this!" She peered down at the bed. Why was this dream so different?
"Is that what you'd like?" A voice echoed up to her ears from below.
Chesie frowned as her eyes rested on a pale man in red. He was handsome-for a White guy-but she didn't remember inviting him.
"Come, now, Chesulloth!" he called out, a hint of laughter in his voice. "I am here to serve, not disturb." He waved his hand and bent at the waist.
Chesie felt uneasy as she stared at the man in red, so she stood to get a better look at him. Only then did her ideals of power melt away. She was standing on a small square of plush carpet inches below the high ceiling. She drew in her breath sharply as the distance between her and the man below became proof of her distance from safety rather than her assent into royalty.
"Ah. Don't fall, Chesulloth."
How did he know her name?
She wobbled forward. Of course. He had to be a figment of her dreams, too.
"Help me," she commanded.
The man in red didn't move. She blinked. The man was in front of her. Her head turned in confusion as she tried to realize what happened.
Shouldn't he have sprouted wings and come to save her? It was her dream, not his.
"Is there any particular area of this residence you'd prefer for me to escort you to?" his voice cut into her thoughts.
A warmth tingled in her belly and she couldn't ignore his charm. It was a dream, after all. There was no reason to dislike him. She smiled. "What's your name?"
He returned a smile so similar to hers she nearly believed she had glanced into a mirror. "Just call me The Man in Red."
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