Silence11

Agent
Night of November 11, 2020

We had rushed inside one of the houses at the end of the road. It took a while to get our bearings. By the air of conversation coming from one of the rooms on the back, I could tell the owners were unaware of our presence. B stood behind me while I looked back on the door; I opened it ever so slightly until it allowed a small peek through to the other side. Below the thickness of light were vehicles among the rest of homes that lined both sides of the street. My eyes panned side to side; not a single soul stood out in the close vicinity, and that was concerning. They were nowhere to be found.

And then, by mere chance I caught the shadowy figure of a man. He emerged from a corner between the third and fourth houses to the left of the street, and soon after followed not one but five more men. Their sleeveless and greasy shirts were disgustingly magnified by the ammo belts running across their chest. One of them, the closest to the entrance, raised his weapon in victory as he kicked the door from its hinges. The crew forced their way through the threshold while I looked back in horror. With my back against the exit I shut the door close. I could barely think straight; B hadn’t moved an inch.

"They're coming," I said.

B trailed after me as we moved to the back of the house where we found a group of three women sitting around a table.

“We need to move out of this house.” I warned them.

“They’re going to be here any minute now and if they find us, we’re done.”

But the three women ignored me and continued their conversation without a care in the world. As a matter of fact, I don’t think they even heard me. I signaled B and we hurried out of the place through one of the windows. We walked for a while and it wasn’t long when we came upon a stretch of land. An assembly of bodies in black suits covered the space wide. I don’t know why I looked back. The three women's residence was a two-story structure that housed a large balcony overlooking the field. Up on the platform my eyes locked with one of the mercenaries. I diverted my gaze immediately and pulled us both near the crowd of people. But it was too late now. As if taken from one of the Matrix movies, I saw two agents drop to the ground. We had been found.

I turned back only to determine the distance between us as we ran for our lives. The agents chased us to a building which I barely recognized (after waking up) as my old middle school. The old place had a layout consisting of four floors of interconnecting corridors organized in a rectangular pattern. I had taken B up and down countless sets of stairs, through narrow passages and broken-down classrooms. But no matter how much I tried we couldn’t lose them. Eventually, our haphazard escape meant it was only a matter of time before one of us lost sight of the other.

Alone and terrified I ran as fast as I could. Before reaching the end of the hall, I found a short space on the lower left wall near one of many locked doors. I shoved myself into the crammed space and crept my way inside into an abandoned classroom. Within the darkness I barricaded myself with pieces of decayed old wooden chairs, broken tables, and any other mess I could find. I crouched behind the dusty window of the door and awaited in silence. The close stomps from one of the agents could be heard from barely a few feet away. The sound of footsteps came from the right; they stopped directly in front of me, then resumed on the other side, dying out the further they went. Slowly, I raised my head from the ground. We were already deep into the night. The dirty window made it almost impossible to see but, there was no mistake that the quivering figure standing on the third floor, on the other side of the school, was none other than B himself, taken into custody by one of the agents.

I had to go back for my friend. I retreaded slowly away from the door, and then I realized the back of the room had opened itself to a parking space abutting a roadside hotel. The place had a set of stairs to one of the upper floors. The sounds approaching from the neighboring guest rooms startled me, so I took cover, crouching behind the wall at the bottom of the steps. A young man crossed from side to side not before stopping midway after noticing me. He shared a puzzling look. Realizing the awkwardness of the situation I stood up almost immediately and played things off as if nothing had happened. The young man continued, and I followed him up as he turned the corner on the left and entered through the doors to the public restroom. As I did, it became clear to me that this was all a dream.

The place I was in wasn’t anything special, save for a very distinctive feature. I discovered it by watching the young man from before, the moment he sat on the floor in front of a mirror above one of the sinks. Without any interaction on his part, the mirror turned itself on like any other T.V. I was surprised at what unfolded in front of me. But before I did anything else, I had to ground my lucidity inside the dream.

“Where is my body?” I asked.

“My body is lying in bed. I am dreaming.”

“What date is it?”

“It is the 11th of November.”

With renewed clarity, I approached one of the mirrors. As I grabbed it, the object twisted and shrank to a size perfectly fitted to my grip. Like a tablet, I held the mirror and stared at it. Nothing out of the ordinary happened; my reflection looked perfectly back at me. The young man watching T.V. was still there, withdrawn from anything or anyone around him. I didn’t know what to do with this thing. But then, an idea popped inside my head. Could I use an object like this, especially a mirror, to look into another space in the world, maybe use it as a medium of transportation? Say I want to travel to a different location, perhaps the mirror could facilitate a much needing proposition. But how do I get this thing to work?

First, I would need to think of the place I wanted to see. I initially thought about the old school, but at this point lucidity was slipping away and it was hard for me to keep a concentrating effort on the task at hand. The old school brought memories of my friend B, and with a little effort I thought I could use the mirror to look back to where exactly he was being held prisoner. The distance wasn’t long, and maybe I could get back to him by use of the object in the span of an instant. I regained a little awareness after this and attempted my escape. However, whatever I tried, I could not get past my own reflection in the mirror. I thought directly on where I wanted to go, tried to imagine the place I had been previously; I even turned away for a second, then looked back, hoping to see something other than my face behind the small piece of glass, but I failed time and again. It’s as if I didn’t actually believe such a thing possible. Absurd. This was a dream. Impossible had no meaning within the confines of my own mind. And yet, doubt was a hurdle difficult to eradicate. But my mind wasn’t having it no more. Confusion formed inside a cloud that blurred my judgement, disconnecting my mind and sliding me away into the mindset of non-lucid.

The dream continues non-lucidly.



Dipping One's Toes at Dream Control: My First Attempts
Night of November 12, 2020

I stopped before the stairs of my house, observant of whatever was downstairs. I did not know why, but something about the place was amiss. Things felt wrong; it all felt slightly off. And then, it hit me: It is a dream.

I repeated the words, and each time I did, I could feel the cogs inside my head starting to turn. I saw more clearly now, aware of what was happening. Downstairs, danger was imminent. I wanted to get out of here, but I didn’t know how. I thought I’d wish a new place into existence, but the dream would not budge. I tried talking my way through things, but again, it mattered little to none if I didn’t believe myself to make it happen. I stayed for several more attempts until I finally woke up.