A story about LD'ing

Hello people,
To start with; I don't know why I wanted to make this post, perhaps to show some respect to the author that introduced me to lucid dreaming.

A month ago I was reading a story on one of my favorite sites, filled with story's and series by one of my favorite writers, called Comicality.
His series are either very dark, or very romantic, with titles such as Gone from Daylight, Savage Moon, Dreamlover, My only escape, etc. He is a great fantasy writer, and his best skill is to make feelings and emotions real, even though it is written on a paper. Seriously.

Anyway, the story that introduced me to Lucid Dreaming is called "Dreamlover".
It is just a short story, but a very good one.

Our main character, Donnie, is doing an experiment with his friend Chuckie.
Chucky wants to examine dreaming behaviour and lucid dreaming.
Donnie is his "subject", and is learning how to lucid dream.
He keeps dream journals and everything, and notices at some point that he always has the same dream on a Wednesday, every occurring Wednesday.

He is not able to find the meaning of the dream, yet it is disturbing him a LOT, and also his friend Chuckie.

Then, a few days later, a boy shows up in his dream, at first when he notices him, he wakes up immediately, bathing in sweat.
The next few days he is able to see the boy more and more often, until at some point he is having conversations with him. His dreams have at this point all become lucid ones, and the weird thing is that even though he can change everything like the weather, levitate things, he doesn't have grip on the boy, as if he is an "external" soul inside of his dream.
He is getting fascinated by the boy, and keeps on dreaming every night to have conversations with that same boy. The boy tells him that he is able to decide how long his dreams last; that the sense of time is completely different in dreams than in real life. He can talk for months in his dreams with this boy now, while he is only sleeping for 8 hours or less.

At some point, things start to change drastically, and he notices that he begins to daydream and that his "dreamfriend" might not be as good as he thought he would be, especially when he notices that he is being dragged into sleep even during the day....

Down here I will copy a part of the story, to give you an example of the atmosphere. The copied part of the story is coloured brown. I will continue after the story with a summary.

I walked slowly forward down the hall, hearing the sound of the decelerating measured thump get stronger. And then...just as I was close enough to figure out where it was, it seemed like the sound moved altogether. All of the sudden, it was coming from behind me. I looked back towards my room for a second, where I saw a baseball glove sitting on the hard wood floor right outside my bedroom door. I squinted my eyes a bit, and it looked like it was 'stained' with something, but I couldn't quite make out what it was. I took a step closer, and heard the sound of a rolling baseball creeping up behind me. So I turned my head, and stepped sideways against the wall as I watched it slowly roll by. The baseball was smeared with blood, and left a long red trail of wetness behind it as it traveled lazily towards the glove on the floor.

I watched in silence.

What the hell is going on?

The ball finally reached its destination, and the second it touched the glove, the mitt opened up and captured it. I stared at this phenomena for a second, not knowing what to do, or if it was even ok to move. And suddenly, in a flash, the glove was swiftly 'yanked' into my bedroom by some kind of invisible force! It was literally sucked into it in the blink of an eye, and the door slammed shut! Then, the thumping began again. Slow, steady, continuous. So I began to inch my way closer to my room again.

As I got to the door, I could clearly hear some old time music playing from inside. Some slow jazz ballad. But not on cd...it sounded like it was playing on an old school record player or something. I could clearly hear the crisp snaps and pops of aged vinyl, as the haunting female voice sang softly over the tune.

"Somewhere, someday....we'll be close together, wait and see. Oh, by the way....this time the dream's on me."

The pounding was slowing down again, each bounce of the ball getting softer and softer as it barely touched the wall with each toss. And as I leaned to put my ear up to the door...I heard a sniffle or two. Like...like someone was quietly crying to themselves inside. I stood up straight again, and just stood there for a moment, frozen in a dilemma between curiosity and a touch of fear over what was going on. The music was right on the other side of that door, and I swallowed hard as I nervously made the decision to open up and look inside. At that moment, the song came to an end...

"This time the dream's...on meeeeee....."

The record stopped, and I heard the needle move inward, the gentle scratch of it hitting the middle of the vinyl, snapping softly in the background. But the thumping continued. 'Thump'...I moved closer. 'Thump'...I took a deep breath. 'Thump'...I reached my hand out. 'Thump'...I grabbed the handle of the door...and gave it a twist....

The next thing I knew, my eyes shot open, I jumped up, and found myself waking up in bed again. The sun was shining outside, gliding in peacefully through my bedroom window. Was I dreaming again? Shit...another false awakening. Those can be SO annoying! I rubbed my eyes, and immediately rolled over to my bedside table, where I had a pen and a small notebook ready and waiting for me. Just as I had taught myself, I instantly began to scribble down what I could remember...

Maybe some people here were interested, probably most were not.
For those who want to know a bit about the end, I'll describe it down here a bit further.
The boy in the story is actually a boy who has deceased ten years ago, and somehow his spirit ended up in Donnie's dream, sort of haunting him.
This sounds very freddy krueger'ish, but in fact is FAR from it.
The boy himself does not know he is deceased, it is more of a reflected image of him, like an imprint, an impression, slipped into a dream.
Now Donnie has to get rid of it before it is too late...

Again; I made this post to show how I got interested in lucid dreaming, and a small piece of thanks to the writer of this story.
If you are interested in reading, let me know.
And people, thanks for reading !

Feist