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    Mzzkc's Mind Games

    Hiya! Welcome to my inner sanctum. You'll find snacks and cookies on the left; the bathroom is on your right. Upstairs is where the scary things live. Don't go up there; I already called dibs.

    1. Mzzkc's Mind Games

      by , 11-09-2010 at 01:57 AM (Mzzkc's Mind Games)
      Enter Jim (DILD)

      I can do this. Running toward the red metal banister lining the platform between step, I make to jump over it, but screech to a halt in hesitation, fear. I can fly to the top. I know I can. Peering over the edge I see there are several flights of stairs above me and a seemingly endless drop below.

      This is a dream, right. . ?


      I leap off the edge, soaring out in a wide arc before falling, down, to a certain death. A burst of denial keeps me airborne, and I shoot up to the very top of this brightly lit, overly windowed building. A school, I think. There's a railed ledge at the top, spanning out over everything below, casting a thin shadow as it greedily eats up the hot light from the sun above. People—friends—look at me strangely, but I could care less. I'm gonna have some fun with this one.

      Up and out, I climb, bursting through the glass ceiling only to find the building is alone, on a grey, mossy rock, in a void of white of nothing. Within moments of my discovery, scenery starts to form around the building. High snow-covered cliffs, white fluffy clouds, rushing rapids pouring over rough rocks, and a huge cerulean lake surrounding the school, snap into existence right before my eyes. Screw goals, screw DGs, screw deeper meaning, I'm free as a bird and I feel like spreading my wings.

      Soaring across the landscape, I twist and dive about, skirting the top of the rapids, picking up speed. The exhilarating freedom of flight overwhelms my senses, and on a whim I decide I want to try and see Raven. Flying headfirst across the ground, I put my arms out in front of me and tear at the fabric of space and time, sending my world into blackness. . . .

      A figure forms in my vision, blurry, indistinct. I wonder who, or what, it could be as I fly through the nether. Within seconds, new landscape begins coming into focus, slowly and in bursts, like the initial load of a large video game map. The figure becomes more defined; it's a boy, a young man around my age with deep brown hair and piercing eyes. I follow him as he jumps into a small clear-water pond. Treading in the water as I float above, he mouths something, but I can't hear him; all I get is a ethereal sense he's trying to communicate. Flustered, he tries again, and this time an echoing, almost synthesized, phrase escapes his lips: “Are you alive?”

      Now it's my turn to be flustered: “Of course I am.” He grins at me before taking off, running further up into this new, colorful, mountainous, landscape. I keep up as best I can, until we come to the opening *large pipe built into the rocks. A waterslide.

      “Prove it!” The boy leaps into the pipe and is swallowed by the dark. Dropping to the ground, I approach the pipe, and with only minor hesitation leap into it. Gravity takes over as my body falls through the twists and turns of the slide and its cold rushing water.. I let out a yell, to show my liveliness to this boy, but I feel silly. Suddenly, I stop, dead in my tracks.


      The plastic tube stuck firm against my exposed back, I try to restart my descent. With some luck, it works and the ride continues, but it doesn't last long. I'm trapped again, and this time I'm not getting out by traditional means. I spend the next few minutes traversing the piping, climbing strange obstacles, with no end in sight. At the rate I'm going, I'll never see the daylight again. But with some effort on my part, the next bend takes me into the light, onto a grassy ledge, where a figure stands, overlooking a vast rocky expanse. It's the boy from before, but he's not a boy anymore, he's an adult, and there he stands with the poise you'd expect of a politician or military leader.

      I approach him, and our conversation begins. His name is Jim, and he's here to teach me. He says he'll be stalking me ferociously over the next few nights, tracking me, watching me. Furthermore, he wants to know what kind of car I typically drive.

      “What kind of car I drive?”

      “Yes, it's important we supply you with cars you're familiar with.”

      “Erm, I typically don't do much driving in dreams.” I can't help thinking this conversation is getting weird. What do cars have to do with anything. . . ?

      To be continued. . . . Maybe. . . .