The Dream Addict

The dream addict sleeps because her dreams are safer than reality. She keeps her eyes closed and lays there lifeless because she is on a journey of her own volition. Why escape the illusion casted in the REM when it lulls her into false peace?

Who are we to pull her from such slumber? Who are we to question her life choices?

Choices taken from her because she doesn’t meet the standard definition of sound mind and body. Everyone around her watching with pity and judgmental concern, meanwhile, she surpassed this world’s splendor. Why gaze upon her with envious displease? For even in her sleep she holds the attention of many.

She knew what was at stake and took it upon herself to remain content. She believed her happiness in that dark time had a chance to shine brightest instead of give in and fade. The dream addict knew keeping her secret was easier if she never had a chance to speak it.

A Dream Addict’s Reality

In a body too weak for her soul, she carries yourself back to the world that she abandoned. Eyes open, greeted with a fake smile and pills in a white paper cup. No more use in fighting this part. Just going along with the motions so she can get back to her purpose.

But this time is different. She’s not able to fall asleep. Eyes looking around the room, she can see how frail her body appears. Strapped to a medical bed and light only coming in from the window that is partially exposed from the poorly drawn curtains. It could be morning, maybe the afternoon.

“Why?” She questions. She attempts to rest her eyes longer than a blink. Nothing. She’s wide awake and getting hungry. Another nurse walks into the room. Their voice is muffled, as they continue to check her vitals and what could only be considered speaking to her as she struggles to get in a few words.

“Why am I awake?” The dream addict mutters under her breath with no understood response. Her ears have drowned out this world for such a long time regaining the ability to willingly want to listen is becoming rather tricky. She watches their lip movements deciphering what they are saying but all she could make out is, “she seems to have grown a tolerance. We should up the dosage.”

“Finally.” She thought. They are going to help her back to peace.

What Body Can Hold Such a Soul?

Waiting and waiting for what seems like hours. She is ready to go back to sleep. The dream world awaits her while she tries to fight the urges. The fog is clearing out of her mind and she is becoming more aware than she would like.

The longer the dream addict lays awake the more susceptible she becomes to her stronger side. The monitors begin to beep louder. She can hear them. And they get faster the more panic starts to set in.

“What if I don’t pass out on time?” She worries. Every second she is awake the louder and faster the beeping gets and heat is now radiating off of her. She swears she can see steam lift from her skin as the sweat begins to evaporator. The thin sheet covering her body is growing damp and she can’t help but think how red her face must be.

Attempting to calm herself down she shifts her focus towards the window. Her sight sharpens and out passed the curtains she spots the sky. A lone bird glides in the distance and the bed straps start to feel tighter. Her lack of freedom grows more understood as her frail body doesn’t appear as weak anymore.

Mussel mass begins to fill in and a youthful glow glosses over her. A forgotten strength awakens and an attempt to break such restraints becomes the new focus. Just as she begins to push against the straps a doctor walks in.

What seemed as a leisure stroll towards her turned into a quick sprint. Behind him, two nurses abruptly halt as their sight locks on her. The doctor immediately injects her with what can only be assumed as the higher dosage.

A Dream Addict’s World

The dream addict yells and starts to flail about. One nurse assists the doctor in keeping her body still. The other leaves but returns quickly with three other people holding large bags of ice. They place the bags around her body and hold her down as they tighten the straps.

No words are exchanged between the doctor and nurses. Everyone knows the drill and stays silent for her sake. They know once she hears their voice her focus will be directed towards an unhelpful goal. The doctor points to the door.

“Escaping isn’t an option.” is written on her chart not by the doctor or by the person who “suggested” this place to her, but by the dream addict herself. A nurse grabs it and shows the dream addict her own writing. The flailing stops and tears well up in her eyes. She understands and lays there in wait for her peace to carry her home.

Her eyes slowly shut and she’s finally adrift. Walking towards the silver gates that hold all her calm and happiness inside. She is home and she is free. Free to do whatever she pleases so humanity can survive another day.

Reality

Hopefully this dosage holds up longer than the last. But how long can we keep her at bay? How long can we keep her knocked out enough for her to keep believing that she is in a better place? We can’t allow her to breath our air consciously or she’ll realize what she’s been missing.

A world she owns but was feared by the many. A world she controlled yet was ripped from her throne because she was different. She held power no man could respect come from a woman. And in turn she was persuaded that being locked away in herself was the best solution. That being mistreated and shunned in reality was too much to bear and she was the only one who could make her feel at home.

Humanity broke her down enough for her to believe living in a dream was ideal. One day she will wake up. And one day she will strike back with a vengeance the world only wished they had not left her to sleep. Because an addict is only one as long as they allow themselves to be. And dreams are only sweet when reality lulls them to sleep.

Thank You for Reading!!

I hope you enjoyed my short story. This is just a condensed version that fit the blog format but I believe I still captured it’s essence.

I’d like to share more short stories and even poems on this blog. I have a random imagination that likes to play on two general topics and mash them together. Let me know what you thought the meaning behind this story was and I’ll post a separate piece on my intended meaning.

Thank you for reading and have a lovely day!!