Dreamless Sleep: Salem

by **Lore Moogle** Thu May 21, 2015 10:23 pm

Despite what your local gravestone might have told you, the dead do not rest. The closest I've ever experienced to a dream was hallucination. And considering my immunity to biological affects, I've had to rely on the supernatural.

My addiction began when I was denied the right to live, after discovering the nature of my circumstance; I was a stillborn, whom never had the chance at life. Fortunately, the assembly of manipulative, arcane talent had kidnapped me, in attempts to expand their influence. Despite their investment, their ideology conflicted, breaking their alignment. While they encouraged my perversion of magic, the innocents and do gooders of the Underworld didn't appreciate the sentiment. There was life, and there was death. Considering oneself above the cycle was detrimental to the functionality of the universe. And, thus, a taboo.

Despite my desire to live, I let the naysayers restrict my growth. I let moans of the dead restrict me, as I continued to further rot in misery. In order to cope with dissatisfaction, I did what I always did; I went to Regina.

As I approached, at our usual spot near Styx, I sat next to her. She hopped onto my lap, and I began petting her. Sidebar: She's a rat, I probably should've mentioned that earlier. Now in position, as always, I'd pester her 'til I got what I wanted.

"Hey, Reggie, babe, darlin--"

"I can always tell when you want something, especially when your hearts not in it. What's wrong?" She asked, calling the bluff. She didn't always know when I wanted something, I just conditioned her to think she did. It comes in handy. Unfortunately, I didn't expected her to see through my facade. She was more observant than I gave her credit for.

"I dunno, man. It's like-- just y'know-- Why do people always have to hold you back? People think-- Like why-- I just don't get what's so wrong about wanting to get out of the Underworld."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't understand your infatuation with being alive."

"You wouldn't. You lived and died. I just died. I didn't get to make a choice yet, and I died. I didn't get to take my first breath, and I died. I'm lucky that I'm supernatural, but that doesn't make up for it. Not even a little bit."

"Then, just do it? So, people criticize you...? Is that all that's stopping you?"

"You're not gonna get it, Reg. Please, don't try to."

"Then take the hit and quit your complaining. No one cares if you feel misunderstood. Do what makes you happy, don't let their opinions stifle your growth."

Taking the mushroom she offered, I chucked it down my throat with no regard for my anatomy. And slowly, the world started to deviate from its parameters. Colors seemed less likely to separated themselves, and I swore I could taste the floor with my fingertips. Eventually, everything turned black, and I no longer existed until...

00.00

I was crossing an unfamiliar bridge, and lingered curiously. As I pressed onward, with slow, wavering footsteps, I caught sight of a worn down railroad. There were five people, bound and gagged to the tracks. I would have untied them, but the train's bellowing horn warned me not to. My eyes met with its yellow, beady light, halting my movements ever so briefly.

Breaking free of its allure, I ran to the rusted lever, but caught glimpse of another constrained individual on the opposing track. My hands tightly grasped it, the rust breaking through my flesh; droplets of blood littering its surface. The device switched the train over, the individual condemned to death by my decision.

With a change of scenery I didn’t bother to question, I found myself in a courtroom, facing prosecution. I couldn’t make out the judge’s face, but, evidently, the jury found me guilty. My interference was the cause of the man's death. An individual is not legally obligated to condemn someone to save the another.

00.11

I was crossing a familiar bridge, and my heavy, uninterested footsteps lead me forward. There was nothing here I hadn’t seen before, there were no distractions or wonders to hinder my progression. As I pressed onward, I caught sight of a well-kept railroad. There were 5 people, bound and gagged to the tracks. I would have untied them, but the train's bellowing horn warned me not to. As I ran to the sleek, oiled lever, I saw another, constricted individual.

The train entranced me, my eyes meeting with its yellow, beady light, halting my movements indefinitely. I’ve never been so irresolute. With my hands weakly grasping the lever, as it eagerly awaited its fate, I did nothing. The train continued, the five individuals condemned to death by my indecision.

With a change of scenery I didn’t need to question, I found myself in a courtroom, facing prosecution. I couldn’t make out the judge’s face, but, evidently, the jury found me innocent. My hesitance was irrelevant, an individual is not legally obligated to condemn someone to save another. Their definition of morality left a bitter — but nostalgic — taste in my mouth. I was deemed innocent, but didn’t feel it.

00.23

I was crossing a bridge, but was not inclined to dilly-dally. Cutting through the threshold, I ran past the structure, coming to a railroad, whose features were vague and unimportant. I saw two sets of tracks, each with potentially, bound and gagged victims. My eyes met with its yellow, beady light, causing a great anger inside me to swell. I ran onto to the tracks, and in front of the train. I stood defiantly, as the iron mass swallowed me whole.

I found myself in an unforgiving void, my tenacity against the will of the beast. In this cold dissonance, I found a warmth within me. Abruptly, the void spawned the lever that had led to both my legal conviction and salvation. In the physical world, it was a testament to the finicky nature of the legal system, but here? There was no jury to define morality. There were no laws to define responsibility. There were only my principles, and the raw, opposing emptiness.

And with the lever, as a catalyst to my relentlessness, it was not I who was swallowed by the beast, but I who swallowed it.

00.37

As color returned, and senses realigned, I looked down a Regina, who had taken a comfortable position, staring at the river flow. I always wondered how much time passed between each trip, and she would always answer when she felt me jerk to soberness.

"Thirty-seven minutes."

"I'm going to the human world."

"Okay."

"And you can't-- what?"

"Okay...?"

"You're not gonna ask about my revelation?"

"You had another revelation while high, it loses its novelty. "

"Can you at least ask what was stopping me, so I can explain the emotional hurdle I truimphantly overcame?"

"I thought it was because you let the opinions of people you don't care about affect you, but you decided your happiness held more weight, like I said before."

"Yeah, but, y'know, it was more like a fear of rejection. All I want is to be alive. And what happens when life just-- What happens when people reject me for being different? Humans have a tendency to do that. It's gonna happen, Reg."

"And you decided...that your happiness...weighs more...than the opinions of people...you don't care about."

"You can't just flip the phrase to apply it to a new scenario. It's a different emotion, it doesn't count. You can't do that."

"Same sentence, same problem. Deal, home skillet."

"Well, whatever. I'm going."

As I made my way to the gates, I felt butterflies in my stomach. Metaphorically. Squared. I mean, there aren't actual butterflies in my stomach. And I can't feel the biological implications of what that feels like, since, hello, dead. Uh, you get it. I'm nervous. Anyway, here's the best part. A speech at the end of a pilot, a summation of the experiences learned and the emotional journeys traveled. Ahem.

It’s frowned upon to enter the world of the living, but with every candle there is a shadow. And humans will likely shun me based on my appearance, but with every tunnel, a light at the end. There are exceptions to the absolute, should your will empower you. To be unbeknownst to fear is not bravery, but ignorance. And I will blindly cross into the blissful world before me, despite the beasts that lie ahead.