School, never ending, boring school. I sit at desk after desk, thinking that there is somewhere else I should be. Somewhere more important than this place. I am lost in my normal tiredness plus the unusual feeling that won’t stop pulling at me. Finally, I am in my last class now. I sit towards the front because that is the only seat I see that isn’t already occupied.

“Jayda? Jayda!” I look up. The teacher is asking me what the chemical formula for photosynthesis is. I rack my brain, I know I remember it. . .

“Carbon Dioxide plus Oxygen produces Glucose, water and Oxygen.” The quiet girl in the back of the class answers.

Oh yeah. I go back to thinking. I still can’t remember what it is that is so important to me. I feel like I should know this. I yawn. Why am I so tired all the time? The bell rings, finally. I stand up and grab what few books I remembered today. I walk out the door into the crowded halls of my high school. I quicken my pace, trying to get past the huge intimidating seniors and the small scared looking freshmen. I walk out the front door towards my bus. No one ever talks to me anymore, I don’t blame them though. I climb up the steep steps and take the first open seat I see. I lean against the window and prepare myself for the hour ride home. Unfortunately, I am the last one off. I lean my head against the window, a bad idea. I slowly feel my eyes closing against my will. This is unusual, I am never able to fall asleep, even when I want to. I can’t help it any more, my eyes close and I fall asleep. I am no longer aware of what is around me, only of what is happening in my mind. I see her face, and suddenly I remember where I needed to be. It is here in this room with the child and the girl with the black eyes. It all comes rushing back to me, the images from the night before. And all at once I want to scream.

I see her, Emma, strapped to the chair. I remember something… what is it though? She was about to tell me something, she saw me standing here. I try to ask her what it is she was about to tell me, but I can’t. The force, how could I forget? This horrible thing that keeps me from uttering a word, or moving a muscle in my body. I hate it, almost as much as I hate the girl with the black eyes. Almost, but not quite as much. Because how could I hate anything more than her? All of those horrible things she’s done, all while I sit here helpless. For once, I wish I could be the hero of my own dream, to save just one of these innocent people she tortures every night.

Emma, she’s looking at me again. Her eyes are bright blue. Such a relief from the dark, dark black I so often see. I feel a pull towards her, and I try to walk forward. Of course, it won’t let me. So once again, I am forced to sit and watch. The girl with the black eyes puts Emma into a chair. She takes the straps and tightens them around Emma’s wrists, and then she does the same with her ankles. I knew this was going to happen. I’ve seen it happen before. However, this is as far as my dream went. Now what?

The urge to scream is ripping me apart. I need to yell, to stop this horrible person from doing what I know she will do. I want stop her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I wonder why all of a sudden this one little girl is so much more important than everyone else. I don’t even know who she is.

The girl with the black eyes steps back and stares at Emma. Her cool, black eyes never wandering from her. They stare at each other for what seems like forever. Finally Emma speaks.

“Mommy please! What are you doing?”

She bursts into tears. This poor little girl has no idea what is going on. She is scared. I would be too if I were her. What kind of horrible mother straps her own daughter to a chair?

I need to get help. I can’t let this happen to her. I can’t move still, I was ridiculous to think something had changed. This force has been her every other time, why would now be different?

I stop trying because there is nothing else I can do. I am stuck here, held back by this invisible thing that keeps me from controlling my own motions. I try to close my eyes, but I can’t even do that.

They are still staring at each other. I focus all my thoughts on getting myself out of this dream. But of course, it doesn’t work.

“Darling, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” The girl with the black eyes said this. I’ve only heard her speak once before in my dream. Maybe this means things will be different. Maybe she really is sorry. But could she be sorry enough to let this girl go?

Emma cries harder now, the tears are streaming from her beautiful blue eyes down her innocent face. She looks at me again.

“Jayda, how could you let her do this to me?”

She knows my name. How could she know who I don’t know her at all?




“Jayda! Jayda! Wake up! We’re at our stop. Wow, do you ever do anything but sleep.”

It’s Sean, my neighbor who I used to be friends with before these horrible dreams pulled me away from the world.

“Are you okay?” Sean asks me.

I realize then that I’m crying. I wipe the tears away from my eyes and he leads me off the bus.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I answer, “Just a bad dream.”

I know it must have been, but I can’t remember anything that happened in my dream.