The Tunnel Dream by A.S. Morrison
means, but I don’t think it’s anything good.” She pulled out a cell phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. If your dreams lead anyplace let me know, and I’ll tell you if mine do.”
“I actually don’t have a phone. I use my tablet for all my communications. I can give you my email.”
We exchanged email addresses instead.
“I have a bad feeling about these dreams. If anything comes up don’t forget to tell me. Now I better get back before someone comes in.”
She smiled and started back down the alley.
“Wait.” I called. She turned back to me. “Why are we having these dreams? I don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense. What does it mean?” I raised my voice in despair.
“I don’t know yet.” She sighed. “But don’t be afraid, at least not yet.”
I went on home. I was so tired but I didn’t want to go to sleep. I spent the day trying my hardest to stay awake. That evening I went for a walk to be around people again. I wandered into a mini mart and looked around for nothing in particular. I saw the day’s newspaper. Some country had declared war on some other country. Bombs had been sent off. Thousands were feared dead.
5
Jasper sipped his coffee with a loud slurp and then sighed contentedly. “This place really is great, isn’t it?”
I looked around the small coffee shop. The other patrons talked quietly or typed on their computers. It wasn’t my type of hang out, but that’s where Jasper wanted to meet so there I was.
“It’s fine.”
Jasper put his cup down and gave me a look that made me uncomfortable. “What should I tell Mr. Stone?”
“I don’t know. Just tell him I’ve been sick.”
“You don’t seem very sick.”
I picked up my hot chocolate and swirled it around. “Trust me I am. I haven’t slept well in days and I’ve been having chronic headaches.”
“Are you seeing a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“And what have they said?”
“They said I need to rest.”
“You haven’t been to work in almost a week. Mr. Stone is going to need some type of excuse or he’s going to fire you.”
I scoffed. “I don’t really care right now. I’m thinking about quitting.”
Jasper shook his head. “And what are you going to do after that?”
“I don’t know.” I stressed.
He finished his coffee in one great gulp and stood up. “I’ll tell him that you’re sick and that you’re seeing a doctor. That might buy you a little time. The busy season is starting. If you can’t work he’ll have to find someone who will.” He left without another word.
I slumped down in my chair and pulled my tablet out of my bag. The one good thing about those coffee shops is that I could use the internet. I checked my email and saw that Valerie had written. All it said was that she wanted to talk to me soon. I told her I was at the coffee shop and asked if she wanted to meet there. She replied a few minutes later saying that she would be there in an hour.
I got another hot chocolate and stared out the window at the sunset awaiting her arrival. It had been a few days since my last appointment with Mrs. Boove. The dreams hadn’t changed much. I still felt scared when I woke up, and I didn’t feel any closer to finding out why. The notion that Valerie was having the same dreams worried me. How many other people might be having them? There was so much I didn’t know, actually I didn’t know anything. There had to be a reason for it all.
This was the first time I had the internet in a couple of weeks. I kept putting different things into search engines hoping to find other people who might have the same problem. I searched Tunnel dream, and Tunnel dream frightened but couldn’t find anything. There were plenty of dream interpretations, but nothing came anywhere close.
Valerie showed up about the time she said she would. She took the seat across from me and got started right away on why she was there.
“I think you should come with me to my father’s house tomorrow.”
“What?”
“He might be able to help you with the dreams.”
“Um, how can he help?”
She shifted awkwardly. “He has—well—feelings.”
“Feelings?” I asked. “Like emotions?”
“No, more like feelings of what other people are, well feeling.”
“He’s empathic.”
“Something like that.”
I was trying to read between the lines but I was too tired. “You mean he’s psychic.”
She held her hand up and looked around to make sure no one was listening. “He has some qualities that others don’t exactly have.”
“Does he have the dreams?”
“No, but he has a really bad feeling about our dreams as well as current events.”
I had to think about that. What were the current events she was talking about? Was something going on that I wasn’t aware of? “How do you mean?”
“I think it’s best that you come with me tomorrow when I see him. He wants us to spend the night and be with us when we wake up. Do you want to? Do you have anything else to do?”
“Not at the moment.”
“So will you come?”
“I guess.”
She laid out the plan. I was to meet her early the next morning outside Mrs. Boove’s psychic house and leave from there. Mr. Hankerson lived two hours away. After spending the night and getting his opinion on the matter we would be back in the city that night.
I made it back to my apartment by nine o’clock. I glanced out the window at the police tape blocking the alley. There was nothing to see even in the daylight. I thought back to the man that killed someone and then himself there. It was probably that man I saw the other night. The gunshot went off right as I saw the tunnel. It was still the only time I saw it while awake. I wondered if there was a connection. It was hard to believe there was, but it was also hard to think there wasn’t.
I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. I flailed around and threw my pillows across the room in anger at missing out on the frightening part of the dream again. It was getting to be too much now. I couldn’t sleep to begin with and when I finally did doze off I had to go through the same ordeal I did every night. If I didn’t get some sleep sometime I would die of exhaustion, or be too tired to wake myself up. That might be a good thing, though I feared whatever was at the end of that tunnel. I would see it eventually, I could feel it. There was no way it was going to stay out of reach forever.
Somewhere in the darkness of my room I sensed something stirring. It was beyond the light from the window, somewhere in the hall or in the doorway. As with the tunnel it was just out of reach and out of sight. I knew something was there. It was moving, but not in the way I would expect a person to move. No footsteps, no swish of clothing, but nonetheless I knew it to be there. My first response was to pull the covers up closer to my head, as though I was a child escaping the boogeyman. The thing, whatever it was, was coming closer. Its presence grew stronger. I could sense something different now, an emotion. Curiosity. It was curious. It wanted to know more about me, just as I wanted to know it.
My body involuntarily began to shake. I pulled my legs up to my chest and tried to move back, but couldn’t. The presence was close now. I should have seen it. I could tell it was in the light shining from the window but I saw nothing. The whole room seemed smaller. This thing brought a terrible pressure with it that pushed in on me. I breathed hard, attempting to get enough air in to survive the suffocating pressure. And then an image appeared in my head as though planted by the thing itself. As I stared into the nothingness of my bedroom my mind clearly showed my apartment building from the outside. The image stretched from the ground to high into the air. The building looked small in comparison. Right in the center of the frame was a giant black something. It was wavy and cloudy and appeared to be radiating fro
m an unknown source. This was a something that no words can properly describe for it was unlike anything any human had ever encountered or even dared to imagine. The best way I can describe it is as an infinitely large dark cloud standing out against the darkness of night. It was so much darker. It reached right through the building to the ground. I could tell that the part that was in my room, invisible to my eyes but not my mind, was the nucleus of it. This miniscule part of it was its own mind. It looked at me very intently, spying on my thoughts and learning all it could. I felt the power of it. It was stronger than anything else the world had ever seen, there was no denying.
Time passed and it stayed very still, exerting its force on the very reality around me. It was so hot and got hotter each second. I could no longer move. My eyes stared unflinchingly into the beast that remained invisible. I wanted nothing more than to curse it away, to yell and shout and have it feel my power. There was nothing I possessed that could harm it or even make it acknowledge me as a competitor, but I wanted it to feel me so badly. It drained my mind worse than the dreams ever could. This thing was a part of the dream. I was very much conscious, but I could feel the similarities. The same frightful depression that the dreams brought on was radiating from me in the most acute way possible. It no longer felt like fear or depression, but an acute pain that did its damage in the first instant and now made me feel as if I wasn’t even alive. It felt as though I wasn’t a being at all. For that passage of time,
“I actually don’t have a phone. I use my tablet for all my communications. I can give you my email.”
We exchanged email addresses instead.
“I have a bad feeling about these dreams. If anything comes up don’t forget to tell me. Now I better get back before someone comes in.”
She smiled and started back down the alley.
“Wait.” I called. She turned back to me. “Why are we having these dreams? I don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense. What does it mean?” I raised my voice in despair.
“I don’t know yet.” She sighed. “But don’t be afraid, at least not yet.”
I went on home. I was so tired but I didn’t want to go to sleep. I spent the day trying my hardest to stay awake. That evening I went for a walk to be around people again. I wandered into a mini mart and looked around for nothing in particular. I saw the day’s newspaper. Some country had declared war on some other country. Bombs had been sent off. Thousands were feared dead.
5
Jasper sipped his coffee with a loud slurp and then sighed contentedly. “This place really is great, isn’t it?”
I looked around the small coffee shop. The other patrons talked quietly or typed on their computers. It wasn’t my type of hang out, but that’s where Jasper wanted to meet so there I was.
“It’s fine.”
Jasper put his cup down and gave me a look that made me uncomfortable. “What should I tell Mr. Stone?”
“I don’t know. Just tell him I’ve been sick.”
“You don’t seem very sick.”
I picked up my hot chocolate and swirled it around. “Trust me I am. I haven’t slept well in days and I’ve been having chronic headaches.”
“Are you seeing a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“And what have they said?”
“They said I need to rest.”
“You haven’t been to work in almost a week. Mr. Stone is going to need some type of excuse or he’s going to fire you.”
I scoffed. “I don’t really care right now. I’m thinking about quitting.”
Jasper shook his head. “And what are you going to do after that?”
“I don’t know.” I stressed.
He finished his coffee in one great gulp and stood up. “I’ll tell him that you’re sick and that you’re seeing a doctor. That might buy you a little time. The busy season is starting. If you can’t work he’ll have to find someone who will.” He left without another word.
I slumped down in my chair and pulled my tablet out of my bag. The one good thing about those coffee shops is that I could use the internet. I checked my email and saw that Valerie had written. All it said was that she wanted to talk to me soon. I told her I was at the coffee shop and asked if she wanted to meet there. She replied a few minutes later saying that she would be there in an hour.
I got another hot chocolate and stared out the window at the sunset awaiting her arrival. It had been a few days since my last appointment with Mrs. Boove. The dreams hadn’t changed much. I still felt scared when I woke up, and I didn’t feel any closer to finding out why. The notion that Valerie was having the same dreams worried me. How many other people might be having them? There was so much I didn’t know, actually I didn’t know anything. There had to be a reason for it all.
This was the first time I had the internet in a couple of weeks. I kept putting different things into search engines hoping to find other people who might have the same problem. I searched Tunnel dream, and Tunnel dream frightened but couldn’t find anything. There were plenty of dream interpretations, but nothing came anywhere close.
Valerie showed up about the time she said she would. She took the seat across from me and got started right away on why she was there.
“I think you should come with me to my father’s house tomorrow.”
“What?”
“He might be able to help you with the dreams.”
“Um, how can he help?”
She shifted awkwardly. “He has—well—feelings.”
“Feelings?” I asked. “Like emotions?”
“No, more like feelings of what other people are, well feeling.”
“He’s empathic.”
“Something like that.”
I was trying to read between the lines but I was too tired. “You mean he’s psychic.”
She held her hand up and looked around to make sure no one was listening. “He has some qualities that others don’t exactly have.”
“Does he have the dreams?”
“No, but he has a really bad feeling about our dreams as well as current events.”
I had to think about that. What were the current events she was talking about? Was something going on that I wasn’t aware of? “How do you mean?”
“I think it’s best that you come with me tomorrow when I see him. He wants us to spend the night and be with us when we wake up. Do you want to? Do you have anything else to do?”
“Not at the moment.”
“So will you come?”
“I guess.”
She laid out the plan. I was to meet her early the next morning outside Mrs. Boove’s psychic house and leave from there. Mr. Hankerson lived two hours away. After spending the night and getting his opinion on the matter we would be back in the city that night.
I made it back to my apartment by nine o’clock. I glanced out the window at the police tape blocking the alley. There was nothing to see even in the daylight. I thought back to the man that killed someone and then himself there. It was probably that man I saw the other night. The gunshot went off right as I saw the tunnel. It was still the only time I saw it while awake. I wondered if there was a connection. It was hard to believe there was, but it was also hard to think there wasn’t.
I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. I flailed around and threw my pillows across the room in anger at missing out on the frightening part of the dream again. It was getting to be too much now. I couldn’t sleep to begin with and when I finally did doze off I had to go through the same ordeal I did every night. If I didn’t get some sleep sometime I would die of exhaustion, or be too tired to wake myself up. That might be a good thing, though I feared whatever was at the end of that tunnel. I would see it eventually, I could feel it. There was no way it was going to stay out of reach forever.
Somewhere in the darkness of my room I sensed something stirring. It was beyond the light from the window, somewhere in the hall or in the doorway. As with the tunnel it was just out of reach and out of sight. I knew something was there. It was moving, but not in the way I would expect a person to move. No footsteps, no swish of clothing, but nonetheless I knew it to be there. My first response was to pull the covers up closer to my head, as though I was a child escaping the boogeyman. The thing, whatever it was, was coming closer. Its presence grew stronger. I could sense something different now, an emotion. Curiosity. It was curious. It wanted to know more about me, just as I wanted to know it.
My body involuntarily began to shake. I pulled my legs up to my chest and tried to move back, but couldn’t. The presence was close now. I should have seen it. I could tell it was in the light shining from the window but I saw nothing. The whole room seemed smaller. This thing brought a terrible pressure with it that pushed in on me. I breathed hard, attempting to get enough air in to survive the suffocating pressure. And then an image appeared in my head as though planted by the thing itself. As I stared into the nothingness of my bedroom my mind clearly showed my apartment building from the outside. The image stretched from the ground to high into the air. The building looked small in comparison. Right in the center of the frame was a giant black something. It was wavy and cloudy and appeared to be radiating fro
Time passed and it stayed very still, exerting its force on the very reality around me. It was so hot and got hotter each second. I could no longer move. My eyes stared unflinchingly into the beast that remained invisible. I wanted nothing more than to curse it away, to yell and shout and have it feel my power. There was nothing I possessed that could harm it or even make it acknowledge me as a competitor, but I wanted it to feel me so badly. It drained my mind worse than the dreams ever could. This thing was a part of the dream. I was very much conscious, but I could feel the similarities. The same frightful depression that the dreams brought on was radiating from me in the most acute way possible. It no longer felt like fear or depression, but an acute pain that did its damage in the first instant and now made me feel as if I wasn’t even alive. It felt as though I wasn’t a being at all. For that passage of time,