The Dream Room

I was ten when my parents died and I moved in with Jane. Her parents, John and Diane Young, were my god parents and so over the years of family get-togethers and birthdays, Jane and I came to be slow and bearable friends. Slow, because she lived two hours from my home and only bearable, because she seemed to be more interested in the vanity of life and I was interested in books and school.
I remember in great detail, sitting in the front seat of the Young family van with a sullen look on my face as John drove up to my new home. It was just after the funeral, Diane and Jane had left in a separate car right after the ceremony to prepare for me so it was just John and I in the car. Not one of us spoke a word on out way to the house.
I had been to the Young house only once before but that was when I was four so I didn’t remember the intimidation that the house shadowed on the those standing in its yard or the wonder that crept into your stomach as you were led throughout the house’s twisting hallways and winding stairs. Branching off of the house covered in dark brown stone, were three towers, one of which was taller than the rest and held Jane’s room within its walls.
My mother had often told me of the history of the house and the surprise that she had experienced when she learned that her best friend John had bought such a strange place. It had been built by a very rich astronomer who often told villagers that his tallest tower could reach the stars and soon he would leave the solid ground of Earth. After a while, the villagers deemed him insane and soon he was out of work with a mental label permanently pressed into his life. The house was abandoned after the astronomer was admitted into an institution and it stayed that way for fifty years until John, being a famous, book writing psychologist, purchased the place for less than it was worth in an effort to clean up the town.
When I walked through the doors of the house dressed in my black dress and shoes, Diane greeted me with very large smile that couldn’t possibly have been real given the circumstances.
“Abigail!” She cried giving me a stronger than usual hug, “We’re so glad you’ve come to stay with us! Those nights in the orphanage must have been just awful.”
“Don’t remind her of that Diane.” John said sternly as he carried my suitcase in from the car, “She has enough on her mind already.”
Diane’s hand snapped to her mouth, “Oh right, I was just trying to…” Her voice trailed off for a slight moment, “Oh well, I’ve put you in Jane’s room just for a couple of nights until we can finish decorating your room.”
My face frown dropped lower than it already was. Jane and I had become friends, bearable friends but I wasn’t exactly willing to be in the same room as her for an extended period of time. Her vain and naïve ways didn’t mix well with my practicality.
Nevertheless, Diane took my hand and led me up two stairways to Jane’s room who greeted us with a half hearted smile as she lay on her bed reading a magazine.
“Here you are Abigail, you can catch up with Jane while I make our supper.” Diane said giving me a nudge and then she was gone.
Jane had two beds. She had always had two beds and she always told me she had two beds just to rub in the fact that she was rich but in truth, the beds weren’t bought by her wealthy father, they had come with the house. Two iron frames elegantly bent into sweeping, fanatical designs at the head of each of them.
Diane had added the two pink bedspreads. I scowled at the colour. It was Jane’s favourite.
“You can have that bed of course.” Jane said pointing to the bed closest to me, it had only one pillow and Jane’s had five.
I smiled slightly and threw the teddy bear that I had been carrying onto the pillow. It’s scruffy brown fur looked horrible next to the bright pink of the bed. I sighed and sat down on the bed’s edge, it was only for a few days. But it wasn’t.
Two weeks had passed and I was still in Jane’s pink kingdom but somehow I seemed to endure it. I got used to her constant glances at mirrors, her insane obsession with makeup, and her hour long conversations with friends.
One stormy day, we were both sitting on her floor between the two beds reading. I had a novel and Jane, a magazine. Lightning flashed outside filling the room with light and it was soon followed by an incredibly loud thunderclap. I jumped in my spot and hit my head on the side of the iron frame of the bed. Clutching my head, I rolled onto my stomach and winced in pain. It was then that I noticed the flat foot of the bed frame and the rusty bolt that lay directly in the center of it.
“Jane, why is the bed bolted to the floor?” I asked incredibly curious.
Jane shrugged, “I don’t know, daddy says it was like that when we moved in.”
I stared at the foot for a while until another thunderclap sounded and the single light in Jane’s room went black.
The rest of the night each one of us carried a candle with us wherever we went. I found it incredible as it reminded me of the times before electricity when candles were the only source of light. Jane found it depressing and all she did was mope.
When the time for bed came around the corner, the storm still remained in the sky and its thunder and lighting was just as intense but somehow each of us seemed to bend the loud noise into a bearable lullaby and soon we were all fast asleep.
I woke to the loudest sound I had ever heard and the house shaking. A picture that was hung on the wall fell between the back of my bed frame and the wall, its glass shattering all across the floor. I lay stunned until Diane ran in the room with a candle.
“It was just a tree falling dears! No need to be afraid.” she called from the door and then she was gone. There was no notice of the broken picture or the fact that both Jane and I were scared out of our wits in our beds.
I slowly lay my head back on the pillow and Jane did the same. Soon the storm ended and the room was filled with Jane’s soft snores instead of thunder. I gazed up at the ceiling noticing something that wasn’t there before. It hung where the broken picture had been and it looked oddly like a chain on a lamp that you could pull to make the light switch on.
I looked over at Jane to check if she was asleep, and she was so very slowly I reached my hand up and pulled the chain expecting a light in the room to turn on, but nothing did. So concluding that the electricity was still off, I put my head disappointedly back on my pillow. Then a rumble began to fill the room. I quickly raised my head and scanned the room to look for the cause, but couldn’t find anything. My eyes fell on Jane who still remained fast asleep. In panic, I looked up and the ceiling and gasped for I had found the source of the rumble.
Slowly and evenly the ceiling of the tower began to spread apart, splitting in the center to reveal a blanket of stars. My eyes continued to stare at the new sight hypnotized by the beauty of the moon, the stars, and the milky way, until over a period of time my eye lids became heavy and closed leaving me in a deep sleep.
I woke in the morning to the sound of the morning birds chirping outside of Jane’s window and I quickly looked up to the ceiling with its white even plaster. There was no sign of a tear in the centre or along any of the walls and the picture was back on the wall behind my head, there was no chain. It was only a dream, I thought to myself as I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way downstairs.
Months passed and with them came the depression of the loss of my parents and the constant fighting of Diane and John. My room never came and soon I became a sullen zombie remaining only in a world that was within myself. I began to notice changes in Jane as well. Her walls became plastered in bands with anarchist slogans and her cloths started to smell of smoke and her breath of alcohol. She was making her way to the dark side as a result of her parents fighting and she was taking me with her.
We both cut our hair short and cropped then dyed it black. Our nails, eyes, and clothes also sported the same dark colour and soon the pink bedspreads were gone and Jane was coming home with piercing. I could never push myself that far though for I didn’t take pleasure in destroying my body with glittering studs. I took pleasure in destroying my wrists with scars that would remain for decades.
My interest in school and books fell along with my dreams and aspirations. The only thing that remained was my depression which seemed to grow each year.
On the night of my fifteenth birthday, Diane and John’s arguing filled the bottoms floors of the large house forcing Jane and I to stay in our room. We sat on our beds, she with her many piercing and now black and purple hair, and I with my long choppy black hair and my wrists covered in bracelets to hide my scars.
Jane giggled mischievously for a minute and then jumped to her book bag which carried anything but books. She dug around for a while inside of it until she withdrew a small plastic bag that held a strange substance looking much like oregano. In a separate bag were two long papered thing with resembled cigarettes.
“I bought this for us for your birthday.” she said with a grin.
I looked at the things trying to figure out what it was finally I gave up and just asked. Jane looked at me strangely then laughed,
“I thought you were serious for a minute!” She cried as she lit one of the cigarette looking things with a lighter, took a drag, then handed it to me. “Here.” she said.
I had only smoked once before. It was when Jane’s parents were fighting especially loud one night and she said she needed to relax so she took out a cigarette and I decided I needed to calm down too. But this strange cigarette like thing was nothing like the cigarette. It was different somehow. I laughed for the first time in what seemed like months and even though I knew it was false, I felt happy and calmed. Then slowly the feelings were replaced by empty ones and my depression grew. I found myself yearning for my mothers touch and her face would linger in front of me making me want to hug both her and my dad even more.
Jane who was having the opposite reaction jumped up from her spot on the bed and announced that she was starving so she ran to the door to get some food, one her way she stumbled into the name plate on her door and then ran out of the room.
I was left feeling even more alone than usual and tears soon made their way down my cheeks. I wiped them away and looked to the spot that Jane had hit the door. The name plate had fallen down and the paint beneath it had become warn over the years. I could make out one wispy letter beneath the paint from where I was sitting so I got up and wandered dizzily to the door. It said something underneath the paint and I was deathly curious as to what it was so I scratched off the rest of the paint and stared awestruck at the spot.
“The Dream Room.” I whispered reading the lettering then I heard footsteps running up the stairs so I quickly put the name plate back on the door and ran to my bed.
Jane appeared with a giant bag of chips and an even bigger smile on her face.
“I had a great idea while downstairs!” She said, “We should move your bed together with mine!”
I stared at her for a minute then shook my head, “But what about the bolts?”
“That’s why I brought these!” she said holding up a wide variety of tools.
The next half an hour was spent attempting to remove the bolts from the feet of my bed using every tool imaginable until finally our two beds were side by side and we were sitting on the beds eating chips and smoking.
“Do you ever miss your parents?” Jane asked as she stared up at the ceiling.
I looked at her with shock, she’d never asked a kind of question like this before.
“Every moment of the day.” I answered and then I fell quiet.
“What are you thinking about?” Jane asked as she shut her eyes.
“I was wondering where they were.”
“Who?”
“My parents.”
“I’d say they’re up there,” She said pointing up, “They’ve gone to the stars.”
I smiled and shut my eyes, “You really think so?” I asked but the only sound that filled the room was Jane’s soft snoring. Then soon I too was in a deep sleep.
It was the first night I had dreamt of my parents since their death. My mom was floating in the sky holding hands with my dad and they were beckoning me to join them but I couldn’t because I was being weighted on the Earth and was unable to float. I cried out for them, tears rolling down my cheeks but they just floated away leaving me behind.
I woke in a cold sweat and looked up at the ceiling as my eyes filled with tears, the yearning in my stomach grew stronger and then I noticed it. The picture was gone and the strange chain was back. I smiled and wiped the tears away. I reached my hand over to wear the chain was and pulled it wanting to escape. The rumble returned and once again the ceiling opened to reveal the starlit sky. I smiled and closed my eyes thinking of my parents. Soon my body began to feel weightless and I opened my eyes.
My bed wasn’t on the ground anymore. I was floating up through the opening in the tower and I didn’t’ panic for this is what I wanted. I wanted to escape. I kept my eyes on the stars up above and allowed a new feeling of happiness to take over my body. Two hands took each of my own and looked beside me to find both of my parents sitting on the bed with me. Tears of happiness began to roll uncontrollably down my face and I didn’t wipe them away for I didn’t want to let go of my parents hands. They both kissed my forehead and looked up to the stars. I did the same.
An astronomer once said that his tower could reach the stars and that soon he would leave the earth. Sadly he was deemed insane by the villagers and admitted into an institution. But what the villagers didn’t know, was that he was right.