Night 1—Tuesday:

The woman from the television was kneeling in front of me with her mouth just inches away from my ear; she kept repeating, “You are dreaming.  You can fly.”  Her words were hypnotizing and I could feel myself drifting into a fantasy.  I felt a strong gust of wind and my stomach drop in the same way it does when a plane takes off—I felt as though I was truly flying.  The world around me began to sink out of sight, yet I remained on solid ground.  I looked around and could see nothing other than the blue sky which seemed to be swallowing me.

The ground beneath me came to a sudden end just fifteen feet away from where I was kneeling.  I knew where I was—atop the building.  She had brought me back to the vision in which I had found myself earlier—the dream which had become so familiar to me.  I knew what this was—I knew what her words meant.

I stood, and, as I stood, her words kept repeating in my mind, “You are dreaming.  You can fly.”  Over and over, she spoke; her words seemed to grow louder with each repetition.  I walked forward; with each step, her voice grew louder.  I peered over the edge of the building to see that the world below appeared so seemingly insignificant from this height; her words still grew louder.  As I stood staring at the familiar world around me, she was no longer just speaking to me.  No, she was shouting.

A thousand feet below me was the abrupt awakening that ruined fifty nights’ rests.  I had always been terrified of heights and my recurring nightmare did nothing to help that phobia.  I stood at the edge of that building dozens of times before paralyzed in my fear, but this time was different.  Though the voice of the woman was unpleasantly loud, it was somewhat comforting.  I knew where I was.  I knew that this world was one of my own making.  I was in control.

Slowly, her words became my words—her voice, my voice.  The world quieted and soon all I could hear was my inner voice telling me, I am dreaming.  I can fly.  I can fly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  I could feel a confidence that was absent when I had found myself in this very position.  Tonight, I thought, I will not fall.  Tonight, I will fly.  I extended my leg over the edge and

Day 2—Wednesday:

My alarm sounded with a jarring intensity.  I looked over at the clock which had an illuminated “7:15” on its face.  I sighed softly at the thought of not overcoming my nightmare, but this was the first good sleep I had in weeks.  I kicked off my blankets and rolled out of bed to prepare for work.

To be continued… 

Freefall is the creative property of Andrew T.S. Bedgood and is protected by US Copyright law.  Any use of this creative work without permission is prohibited.