"Inside your head, is bad enough a place already for him to be; but once he intercepts your dreams — I'm afraid — the battle has already been lost...
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— Isaac Newton.
[From his book: What are you doing in my wet dreams Zeraton?]
Author's Note:
Believe me, I'm no Christopher Nolan and this is by far from anything like Inception. However still, it is my desire that you find some enjoyment and/or pleasure in this tale. It is heavily inspired from the horrific events of my teenage brother and his first experience with Puberty. Also I should probably chip in that this is a horror story; well, atleast to me it was – the person who saw the whole thing first hand.
I choose:
What if you had the ability to enter other people's dreams and alter or influence them. Is there a person whose dreams would you enter, how would you influence it and why?
Nervous I was — yes. So very very unsettled I felt as to why and how a person's fart could've smelt as atrocious as did his. Frankly, I wasn't quite sure who had it worse: myself whom, at the moment, was desperately gasping for breath; or the boy, from whom the fart came from!
Cautiously, ever so cautiously, I leaned closer to the boy and pressed my head against his chest; keeping my head tilted horizontally and listening, through my ear, for the sound of a heartbeat.
Indeed! Yes! Indeed I believed that the boy had died hours ago and that perhaps now, was the time his body
only began rotting and decaying from the inside. However, and quite fortunately I must add, my ghastly notions were finally put to a halt, when I scarcely heard him breathe.
Ahh
I sighed in relief.
So once again, I rested my head upon pillow and began slumbering peacefully once more. Alas, my moment of tranquility didn't last as much as I had hoped it would. And what follows next dear reader, I assure you, is the object of this entire tale — this alone — I believe, was the true motive that eloped my regretful curiosity and consequentially, the conflict of this entire story.
Stop it Jessica!... That feels... That feels.... That feels so good...
the boy fairly muttered in his sleep while wiping out the single drop of drool that fell from his mouth.
At first, I decided to ignore his remark.
Nah, it can't be.
I thought to myself but yet again, be muttered the same statement, over and over and OVER again! With each time said in a different tone - one that must've truly excited pleasure.
Certainly, the boy had been experiencing some form of pleasure from the dream, and was quite curious as to what it might've been.
Again, the same thoughts came to my head:
Could he be having a wet dream?...
Nah.... No way not my lil bro.
Wait isn't he like 14?
Oh shit😳...
Then, amidst my acute state of reasoning and dilemma, something very unusual happened: All of a sudden, the boy started making questionable sounds — very uncomfortable ones I must say.
Apparently, they were sounds of sexual pleasure:
Ahh....
Ohh...
Oh Jessica!....
Oh God! As I live and breathe, anything would've been better than what followed next!
It went in this order: First came silence, then his countenance that soon wore satisfaction and relief and finally, the warmth — the feeling of that warm liquid around the bedsheets and the realization, the horror, of what had just happened.
One thing was very clear to me that night however, my little brother was no longer little again.
Morning came the next day, and I refused to look my brother in the eye. I was mostly filled with anger, confusion but above all — understanding. I had experienced puberty once before, so I knew how confusing and queer the whole thing must've felt for him. However, even with this understanding of mine, I was never the more read to speak a word of what happened last night to him yet. But time heals, and bed sheets get replaced.
It was precisely 4:30pm in the evening, when I finally decided to confront the boy about what had happened the previous night — my plan was to do so in a very vague and cautious way — with no discrepancies whatsoever.
Gently, i sat bedside him on the sofa where he was busy playing a videogame( Minecraft), and began casually talking with him. I assumed he would be more receptive to answering my questions if his mind were to be occupied with a third party activity.
Distinctively, I remember the very first question I asked:
Hey man, so like...how was your night?
His reply:
Huh?... Yeah, yeah... it was good.
Okay... so any interesting dreams or?...
I asked again, trying my best not to make the situation uncomfortable for either one of us.
His reply:
Ahh... no not really. I don't think I dreamt anything actually. Or maybe I did and I just forgot. Who knows?
This was not a lie — well atleast, not a complete one. I could tell he was sort of telling the truth. Fascinating indeed....
Look dude! What's all this about? What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?
He began getting hostile and said in sternly in his voice.
From this point on, I thought I should resolve back a little and perhaps just, return back to the query another time. However, upon rising from the sofa, ready to walk out, a sudden thought came across my mind and I instinctively asked:
Hey... Who's Jessica by the way?
Huh?...
He replied in confusion and with a little bit of nervousness.
Yeah... you know any Jessica?
I pressed on again.
Uhm... Jessica... Jessica....Uhm, she's a girl in my class. She's... new!
He said stuttering on every word he blurted out. Now, I knew for sure that he was lying. Well atleast, lying about not having any idea what I was getting into with the conversation in the first place.
He knew very well indeed! There was no Jessica in his Class - damn, there wasn't even a Jessica in his school! And I was so certain he had made up the story about a new student being in his class as a poor facade.
Now my curiosity peaked more than ever and so did my judgement too!
Who was this Jessica? Was she some attractive character he saw on his TV or Comic? Was she just a figment of his dream? Or even much worse, was she some Adult actress he saw online? Is he watching porn now? My mind was full of dilemmas and I need an answer to relief me.
I must say, my curiosity peaked more than ever over the next few days that passed, as I watched my brother more carefully than ever now: I noticed he was constantly having mood swings for no reason, taking much longer showers, spending so much time alone in his room and even — moisturizing.
Needless to say though, all this didn't quite matter to me. In my words:
I really don't care if you're jerking off punk, I just wanna know if you're jerking off to the right person or thing! ... Who the hell's Jessica?...
Again, and again the question taunted me until at length, I discovered a means as to how to fetch an answer.
Over the next few days that followed, I began practicing a technique I came across on a site that talked about the possibility of projecting yourself into another person's dream.
In a nutshell, this was done by a technique known as:
Dream Walking
A technique that involved projecting one's thought and consciousness to that of another through 5 simple steps:
Purpose
Specification/Materialization
Meditation
Concentration and
Lucid Dreaming.
The steps were fairly easy and after a few weeks of practice, I was well enough ready to visit my brother's dream and see if I could figure out who Jessica is.
My plan: to incept his dream and force his subconscious mind to reveal to me the identity of Jessica — his supposed classmate.
By 10:00pm, everybody in the house was already fast asleep — including the boy. Hmm, i fairly chuckled at heart and began the exercise to phase into his dream.
Initially, the whole dream Walking seemed rather impossible and frankly, I almost gave up after trying 30 times and failing consecutively! However, it was upon my 31st trial, that i finally found success and was seamlessly transported into his dream.
In the dream, I was sitting in some sort of steam room - similar to that of a spa but somehow more eccentric. Apparently, I was not the only one there for sitting directly opposite me, was my brother! He, however, didn't seem to notice or at least, acknowledge my presence.
I assume, it was just like the site said:
the only way for the dreamer to become conscious of your presence in his/her dream, is for the dreamer to become lucid while still inside said dream...
Soon, I began hearing a voice coming from outside the steam room, the voice sounded strangely familiar. Alas, it wasn't until an old friend of mine — Jessica — walked in, had I finally realized my long awaited and answer and my much deserved nightmare!
Of course! That Jessica! Moron🤦🏾♂️
I thought to myself while scarcely enraging over the simple fact I had overlooked. Although, I hadn't actually seen Jessica in years, so there was a slight chance that I had just simply forgotten.
But thinking about it now though? Of all people?... Why her? Does this mean that the little brat has always been secretly infatuated by her my long time friend this whole time without me knowing?
Anyway, back to the dream:
Very slowly, she approached my brother wearing nothing but a towel to cover her hair and torso. She looked very sexually aroused but i, however, was completely stupefied with agony as to what I might see with my own two eyes next.
Oh God! Anything else would've been better than that torture anything, more tolerable than that woe! I felt as though I would die of anxiety!
I raged and swore and did my best to stop them but unfortunately, I couldn't interact with the dream physically — a shame indeed.
And so, alas, in desperation, i let out a single final cry:
Wait, Jessica Stop!!!!
Were the words I belted out. Then, at once, I noticed that the dream seemingly paused in motion, as if it were being controlled by some universal remote. It was then, that it finally occurred to me that I was in some control of the dream.
Hence, as the clever chap that I was and still am, I took it upon myself to make some necessary changes to the whole scene of the dream. One that, I'm sure, would've been beneficial for all parties involved.
The next morning, I met with my brother in the bathroom. The look he gave me was quite an ill one. Yes... he looked so displeased to see me — Ha! Who could blame him!
In a concerned tone I inquired how he had passed the night. His reply:
Terrible! Absolutely terrible! I had the worst dream ever. I was in some type of steam room and you were in there and then... And then we....
At this point he paused in disgust and spoke only one thing before storming out of the bathroom:
I'm sorry, I've gotta go...
THE END
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Ha! All's well that ends well I'd say - no? I got my answer (although, terribly scarred) and my brother would no longer have weird wet dreams about my friend so...
WIN WIN!
So that's my Tale, if you have any questions, for example, regarding which part was of the story was accurate; then feel free to ask me in the comments down below.
Dreams can be quite a puzzling thing huh? Did you know till this very day, scientist still don't know the real reason why we humans dream? Weird huh?...
Makes you think...Hmm!
You know, I wonder what the oracle dreams about himself?
Anyway...
