Sentilia

When I woke up, everything felt drab and ugly. And though my head screamed not to, my heart wanted to go back to the museum. It probably wasn’t healthy, but what would I do otherwise? It was another cloudy day... another boring day.

First thing after my morning lessons, I flew to my room, pulled my hair back, threw on some clothes, and left for the museum. I hadn’t had enough of it: the colours, the forests, the nature.

Once I was in, it hit me as hard as the first time. I stayed there the whole day, wandering through the corridors, and reading all that there was to read on the information screens. The day advanced, and it was nearly closing time, so I slowly started to make my way back to the transporter.

When I got back to the apartment, dinner was on the table. My parents had been waiting for me for an hour now, which was highly unusual. Of course, they knew where I was: you couldn’t enter any place without your household being able to track you there. But I was still worried they would be upset. However, they didn’t seem mad at all to have waited, in fact, they were smiling and asked me to have a seat at the table. I couldn’t keep myself from making a face, but I obliged.

It took a moment to understand what was going on. My mother talked about her job and where she had wanted her career to go for almost an hour before she got to the point. She had gotten an invitation to replace one of the older members of our counselors—of the Advisors. She was a very trusted Peacekeeper; she also worked to coordinate other peacekeepers of the area. So she had gotten this invitation that, occasionally, a remarkable person will be honored with. Like everyone else, Advisors were invited to retire at the age of 85, to enjoy the second part of their lives. My mom was thrilled; she was obviously going to accept the offer. It was a great honor, and although I didn’t really show it, I was happy for her. It was just that right now, my mind was running off someplace else. They noticed.

“Max, is everything OK? You haven’t said anything yet, and you don’t look very excited either,” my mom pointed out. She chuckled, and my father smiled. Nothing was going to overshadow their moment of joy.

“Really Max, this is a big deal for your mother, as it is for us. This is something very special. We should be very proud right now,” my father answered, trying to reel me in. But my thoughts were lost in another time. There was no way to bring me back to the apartment just yet.

I was scrambling to find something nice to say. It just didn’t come out.

“I’m sorry mom, dad, I’m really tired; I’m going to bed,” I muttered.

My parents looked concerned but they weren’t troubled by my mood for long. I could still hear them faintly, celebrating, as I crept onto my bed.

I was so tired that I fell asleep instantly.

This dream was different. I was lost in the middle of a forest, surrounded by green. I couldn’t move. As I stood there, I realized I somehow knew I was in a dream.

I shifted my head to get a better look at where I was. It was a forest full of tropical trees and tall grass. I couldn’t see the sky above me: the foliage was too dense.

I was dressed in heavy clothes and the heat and humidity were unbearable; even without the sun, I was already starting to sweat.

I took off my sweatshirt, roll up my long sleeves and pants, and took a step forward. As I did, I saw, straight ahead, a small ray of light piercing though the trees. I walked towards it, and as I moved the branches away, I cleared myself a path. I difficultly made my way through the last of the newborn trees, to a clearing on the edge of a cliff. Right below it, was an endless stretch of white sand, and as its border, there it was: the ocean. As majestic as it was on every picture or painting I had ever seen.

I quickly climbed down to the beach, trying not to trip on the rocks. When I had both feet safely on the sand, I took my shoes off. I had always wanted to swim in the ocean, so I started walking straight towards the water.

I had daydreamed a lot about the sea, I couldn’t believe it could be such a beautiful bright turquoise colour; and it was unbelievably crystal clear. It was immense, to see it right in front of me. I knew it was a dream but it felt too real.

As I got to the edge, I hesitated. Something inside me held me back. I felt some kind of a warning from inside my core. As if danger was lurking below, waiting. I was taken aback: this kind of reflex was stranger to me. I did not see what danger water could bring. I’d never had the need to be cautious, or scared. There was nothing to be afraid about in our society. Although I didn’t know how to swim, I just wanted to put my feet in, feel the water caress my ankles. I didn’t want to let this feeling of fright control me, but it felt wrong not to listen to it.

Then, it all happened very fast.

I don’t know how, but my foot glided into the water without me even controlling it. At that moment, I felt a sudden presence near me, heard the sand shifting a few paces away. Everything inside my head went blank. A feeling, not of fear or panic, but of surprisingly appeasing calm, washed through me.

And then, excruciating, hard-hitting pain pierced though my left arm, it ran through me like an electric current. I didn’t understand what was going on. I just had time to gasp, and I found myself screaming on my bed, in my room, in our apartment, in year 245.

“Maxine! What’s going on?” My mother and father had just burst into my bedroom. I looked at my clock; it was 5:39 A.M.

“Are you okay? Max, answer me! What’s wrong?” my mother cried out.

I tried to calm myself and forget about the throbbing pain in my left arm.

“M’fine...” The pain started to wear out. I looked down at my left arm, and couldn’t see where it came from. “I’m fine. I’m sorry...I...I just had a bad dream.” That was all I managed to choke out.

“You scared us,” my father mumbled, exhaling, “we thought you were hurt; we panicked.” He was completely calm now. I wasn’t, yet.

My mom bent down to touch my arm, I flinched. They looked at me with a concerned expression. Seeing as they were waiting for an answer, I quickly blurted out: “Um...well...sorry. I’m going to go back to sleep. Goodnight.” They understood that I was a bit confused, and they let me go back to sleep. My dad said something I couldn’t decipher, but the sound of his voice rang in my ears until they reached their room.

I fell asleep again, not without difficulty. I didn’t remember my second dream at my awakening.

*****

For the following days, I had trouble falling asleep—my pills didn’t seem to have any effect on me anymore—and kept waking up throughout the night. In fact, I was trying so hard not to dream about that first dream again, that my mind was too occupied to shut down properly.

I had also grown very short-tempered due to the lack of sleep. My parents had undoubtedly noticed how I kept insanely quiet when I was around them, and how I didn’t eat as much as I would normally. On the fourth day following my haunting dream, they started to interrogate me on my behaviour. They kept asking what was happening to me, and the questions wouldn’t stop.

I didn’t feel the need to talk to my parents about my problems, and that kept starting arguments, over and over again. I knew if I started talking, it would lead to a discussion about the museum, a discussion I didn’t want to have, so I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to go through this on my own.

I finally went to bed wretched, lonely, hoping my parents would leave me alone. I had never given them any trouble...why couldn’t they return the favor? I felt they would never understand me.

I shut my eyes, and a second later I was sound asleep.

There I was, on the same beach again. However, I was further away from the ocean’s edge. I turned around and, to my surprise, there were people in the water, in a far bay area. I started to walk towards them; surely, they could help me find my way back home. I thought maybe, if I knew where I was and how to get back home from here, a complete loop, it could make these dreams come to an end. I loved to see the nature and the beach, but all I could feel now is fear, and all I could see were possible dangers, and all I could taste was the blood coming from me nervously biting my lips.

As I got closer to the small group, I noticed all the guys were wearing long shorts, and the girls had strange bathing suits on. They were jumping in the water, I could hear the echo of their voices both laughing and squealing. When I finally got close enough, they froze. They just stared at me. I stopped walking too. They all turned to look at an elderly lady, who had bright white hair. She had been sitting on the beach at my approach: she was standing now. She kept a cool composure, not like the others who seemed shocked to see me.

I suddenly felt safe; the strangest feeling, seeing as they were all looking at me with almost hostile gazes. This was inevitably the same place I had been hurt in my last dream. But I unmistakably felt waves of calm invade my body and I was confident enough to talk first.

“Hello, my name is Maxine Costa. Can you help me? I live in California; I don’t know where we are...I...I believe that I’m lost.” I felt a lie would be better received than the startling truth. A voice rose from the group, it was the one of the old lady: “You are far from California, my dear. I don’t think you got lost. This island is miles away from the coast.”

I heard whispers in the background, but all I could make up were words like “...how she found us...” “...how did she know...” “...how’d she get passed...”

I felt all eyes boring into mine, trying to find answers to their questions. Answers I didn’t even have. They slowly started getting out of the water, waiting for an order from the lady. She told them to get dressed, and I was still calm enough to notice the light fabrics, brightly coloured, very unfamiliar clothes. They were so different then what I was used to see: grey, tan and black...simple clothing. I also noticed their accessories, their haircuts: they were just so different in every way.

Unless...I knew it couldn’t be but...I had seen some strange clothing like this once before...of course...at the museum.

I knew exactly where I was. No, I knew exactly when this was. These were people from the 21st century. I was dreaming about living in the past. I started smiling and then remembered they were all glaring at me.

The lady whom had been the only one to address me directly spoke again. “Maxine, my name is Maia. Let’s go back to the city and we can discuss what brought you here, alright?”

“Um...sure,” I hesitantly answered.

Maia guided me back into the forest; they all followed. We started walking and, a couple of feet into the thick vegetation, we lost most light. It was hot and humid. Sweating my way through the forest, which I was the only one who seemed to find unbearably hot, we walked and walked for what seemed to be an eternity. All along I was just stumbling forward on the uneven ground, trying to look everywhere at the same time, taking in as much as I could from the beautiful greenery.

Finally, we came to a halt. I blinked twice as we made our way out of the last few trees to a vast valley, filled with houses and streets that seemed to have no end. There were people walking around and driving cars up and down the roads. It was a city as I had once seen before, in pictures. The lanterns guarding the streets started to light up; it was twilight. The houses were all individual, small buildings surrounded by green patches here and there. I couldn’t take my eyes away.

I almost tripped as we marched down the hill towards the city.

“I’m absolutely sure now that I’m dreaming,” I muttered in disbelief, smiling.

Maia, who was closest to me, answered: “You’re not. And I’m glad you like it, because you’re not going anywhere.”