What could it hurt?
There is no handle, so I just push on it and it opens. I enter into an expansive room about the size of a small gymnasium (to me it seems about the size of the gym of Blue Ridge Elementary). A light comes on the second I walk in. There are just the 4 walls in the room. And along the walls are row after row of pairs of sunglasses. At least that's what they look like. I turn to the wall immediately to my left. Each pair is hanging on a hook with a label below it.
I look at the first label. It says, "The one where I was a male goat." Next to the label reads, "The one where I was in the land of giant broccoli.".
Dreams. They have to be.
I look to the top of the column of these dreams and there is a large brass plaque that says "Really weird dreams/Misc." The column next to it is labeled "Out of control driving dreams". Next to that is "Dreams where I am in Love."
Part of me want's to put on a pair of these sunglasses. The rest of me is afraid of what will happen. Will I be transported into a dream world from which I can never return?
I turn my back on this wall and walk straight to the back wall of the room. A large brass plaque (larger than any of the others) labels the whole wall. It says "NIGHTMARES".
Morbid curiosity draws me to it.
I read some of the labels.
"The one where Naomi and I drowned."
"The one with the shark coming out of the floor."
"The one where my parents eyes glow."
"The one where Frisky kicked her legs off at me."
"The one where I got drunk."
"The one where I couldn't run away."
I stop reading. I know for a fact I will not be putting any of these sunglasses over my eyes.
I turn my back on this bleak wall and look to my right. There are more dream labels.
"The one where I am part of an orphan gang."
"The one with Bruce Willis."
And so on.
Finally I turn to the wall with the door. There are more sunglasses surrounding the door frame but there don't seem to be any labels. I walk to the wall and sure enough. Each dangling pair of eye wear is label-less.
What does it mean?
The most of me that was afraid to put on a pair of these glasses is overpowered by the curious part rest of me. I grab the first pair my eyes fall and on, and without hesitation place them on my eyes.
I draw a sharp breath in the form of a surprised gasp which resonates throughout the room because I am suddenly enveloped in complete darkness.
This lasts only seconds, however, because my eyes are then filled by an unrecognizable scene-blurry around the edges and not in any way tinted by the glasses.
I'm outdoors. The room is gone. I think I am in a forest, but as I gaze about at the trees and vegetation I recognize none of the plants that exist there.
Maybe that's how it is in a dream world.
I am afraid to move, to breathe, to do anything really.
I notice there is a weight in my hand. I lift it and see the familiar shape of a lightsaber.
No. Flippin. Way.
I turn it in my hand to search for the ignite button. (Every action I make feels familiar. Even my surroundings seem known to me now. Like I've been here before). I find the button and press it. Energy flows from the end of the weapon and through my arm. The blade glows a powerful and reassuring lavender (In all my fantasies my lightsaber has been this color). I feel a thrill go through me.
I don't remember dreaming this dream. So why does everything feel like a deja vu?
There is a rustle of leaves ahead and a figure emerges from out of the trees.
It is Luke Skywalker. A much older version than the on in Return of the Jedi, but he is unmistakable.
"Good, you are prepared." He says in a voice I recognize from the films I used to adore.
"Master," I answer without thinking. He ignites his own azure lightsaber and utters one other word: "Begin."
And then we are sparring. Every move I make feels like liquid and I can anticipate all the moves he is going to make before he makes them. I feel the force. Our blades crackle and hiss as the make contact again and again. I am grinning from ear to ear as I practice being a Jedi Knight with my master Luke Skywalker.
I notice that I do not tire even though I am exerting myself more than I ever have in real life.
Just as I think I could lose myself in this dream, there is a sound in my ear completely detached from the situation. It's a kind of buzzing. Perhaps a large insect. I try to push it out of my thoughts as I continue sparring.
The sound doesn't stop. In fact it's insistence increases until my ears are filled with it which causes the clarity of the scene to decrease. Exponentially.
In the next few seconds Everything has disappeared and it's dark again. I wait for the dream to come back. I doesn't. I remove the glasses and my eyes are pierced by the light of the dream room. I blink against it, letting my pupils to adapt.
That was...
...what was that? It seemed so familiar now that I think about it. Like I've dreamed it before. Maybe I had. Maybe that's what those unlabeled sunglasses are. Forgotten dreams.
I turn to the wall to place the pair in my hands in their place. It now has a label. "The one where I am Luke Skywalker's Apprentice."
I look at the wall for a long time. Wondering what other lost dreams there are. Debating with myself. Wondering if I should lose myself in another dream. I question vaguely how long I have been here. It seem's like hours.
I shrug and select another pair and put them on.
There is darkness again.
6 pairs of sunglasses (a nightmare I wish I had never relived, some tears of longing, Harry Potter, a maze of sock puppets, playing with the Cardinals, and the worst work stress dream of my life) later I decide that it's been long enough. I should probably think about leaving. I pull off the sunglasses after what feels like hours of working as a waitress. I would have done it sooner but my brains took far to long to realize that I was in a dream, it was so realistic. I replace the sunglasses and then turn to where the door should be.
Imagine my surprise when I see that the only thing on that wall are rows of sunglasses and nothing else. I look at all the other walls.
Sunglasses as far as the eye can see in a room the size of the gym at Blue Ridge Elementary.
There is no way out.
