//------------------------------// // Dreams // Story: Am I Real? // by AlleyCat124 //------------------------------// What I wouldn’t give for my music right now… I stared up at the ceiling above me. The rest of the day was spent relaxing. At least it was supposed to. I don’t think I’ve let my guard down yet. I could already feel my body starting to ache from my muscles constantly tightening up. I tried breathing out slowly and deeply, trying to force my muscles to relax but they refused to cooperate. I wanted my music or TV. I would usually have Netflix on with Family Guy running while I fell asleep. I’ve seen the series so many times I used it as a background noise than actual entertainment. And if for some reason my internet was down, my IPod would be my second choice. I couldn’t take the silence. Especially with so much on my mind. It’s usually at this point that I would get out of bed and go for a night walk to clear my thoughts. But seeing as I had no clue where I was, going outside in the middle of the night was a stupid decision. An extremely stupid decision. A really….stupid… ............. Wow, it is really nice out. The cool, what I could assume, summer air kept me comfortable as I walked on the cobblestone ground. Every few seconds a light breeze would refresh my skin, keeping me from getting too warm. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, giving the moon plenty of room to light my way through the small town. Yes, this was a stupid decision, but I’m a little bit impulsive to put myself in these kinds of situations. Answering a text while driving knowing that I needed to keep my eye on the road, hearing a fight break out and me finding a way to put myself in the same room, wanting to step in front of a train with no intention of dying, but just to see what would happen or how it would feel, and walking in the middle of the night without knowing the territory. Of course I didn’t do it all the time, but the urge to do it was there. Maybe I had a bit of a dangerous side or maybe I was crazy. Either way, I know this was stupid, but in the end I did it anyway, knowing full well it was stupid. The little colt next to me agreed. Silent Melody was walking next to me, an emotionless face looking forward. He didn’t show that he disliked coming with me, but it was like irritation was coming out of him in little squiggles that only I could see. Well, it was his own fault. I told him to go back to bed, but he refused. I even tried to use my, ‘I’m an adult and you’re in my care and I say go to bed’ card. All that did was trick me into thinking he went upstairs only to realize that he was “secretly” following me. So we ended up here, me walking idly throughout the town and Silent following me. I couldn’t help but be a little touched. He was worried about me. I guess he just wanted to look after me and make sure I was alright. My mind started to wander as I tried to think of what I would do tomorrow. I discussed it a little bit with Sweet Feathers, and we agreed that I would meet with Zecora so I could familiarize myself with the duties of my shop. The thought of working so soon didn’t put my mind at ease at all. But I didn’t know what else to do. I can’t just wander aimlessly around, I needed to familiarize with Dream Weaver’s life as soon as possible. The more I act like her, the better I can get with figuring out how to get home without raising suspicion. Which brings me to my next problem; Silent. It’s not just Dream Weaver’s life I have to focus on, but Silent’s as well. I need to make sure he is properly cared for and safe. I need to make sure that when Dream Weaver comes back, I’m not leaving her with a mess of a life and a fucked up kid. “Do you have school tomorrow?” I asked, needing to fill the air with something. He nods his head. “So you willingly came to walk with me in the middle of the night knowing that you have school tomorrow?” I gave him an incredulous look as I came to a halt. He stopped along with me and just shrugged his shoulders. I gave a big frustrated sigh. I wanted to keep walking; my mind was far from being clear… BUT! I have to be an adult here and think about Silent Melody. He has school tomorrow. Ergo, he needed to go to bed. Giving another sigh, a smaller one this time, I turned around and started to head back. “We are going back home and you are going to bed. You have school in the morning and you knew it and you still followed me out. Once you get into bed you are to stay there and go to sleep, got it?” I lectured. Not hearing a second set of hoof beats, I turn around and see Silent Melody’s rump up in the air while his head was on the ground, sleeping. Oh Goddess I wish I had a camera I thought to myself as I approached the sleeping colt. I couldn’t help but grin at his sleeping face. No matter how mature he acts, he’s still just a kid. A kid who should’ve been in bed a good while ago. I shuffled on my hooves as I looked at Silent’s sleeping form from every angle, trying to think of a way to carry him. If I had my freaking arms I could just pick him up and carry him, but that’s not going to help me out here. Not seeing any way to pick him up (at least, none that I could figure out as a pony), I nudge him gently. “Silent,” I whispered, “I need you to climb on my back, okay? You can sleep once you’re secure.” At first he didn’t respond, but then he was slowly making his way onto my back; head hanging over my shoulder while his hooves draped over my wings. Preparing my body for the extra weight, I locked my legs and slowly stood up. Shifting my shoulders and back to put him in a more secure position, I turn around and head back to the house. The walk back was actually shorter than I thought it was going to be. I guess I was just too caught up in my head to realize that I didn’t even walk that far from the shop. Climbing the stairs up to Dream Weaver’s upper apartment, I walk through the living room and head straight to Silent’s bedroom. Tucking him in, I look around his bedroom, noticing how neat and tidy the room was. If I remember correctly, Silent was ten years old, right? Unless Dream Weaver was a neat freak who made sure Silent kept his room neat and tidy 24/7, then I am taking care of a very responsible kid. Hell, even I didn’t keep my room this neat. Looking around his room, there was one other thing that I noticed; it was bare. There wasn’t any toys, no posters, no décor, nothing that would assume that he lived here. A desk, a dresser, a bed…that’s it. I couldn’t help but be a little worried. Silent Melody has been here for six months and he hasn’t decorated his room at all? Was it because he wasn’t interested, or has Dream Weaver never gotten anything for him. I thought more on and another reason wormed it’s way into my head; did Silent think he wasn’t going to be here long? I mean, I heard foster kids were jumped around most of their lives, but Dream Weaver wasn’t a foster mom, she actually adopt him….right? Looks like I have another tasked to add to the list of shit I need to find out. I closed Silent’s door and headed back to Dream Weaver’s room. I couldn’t help but be a little irritated. I was still one hundred percent completely awake and my brain was still fucked up. Knowing I wasn’t going to get anywhere with sleep anytime soon, I decided to snoop around the room. Gotta say, I loved the whole goth theme this room was giving. I didn’t peg Dream Weaver as the goth type, but hey, I’m kinda a bit of a goth too. Goth doesn’t automatically mean gloomy emo. Her room was kind of bare as well, but still had more than Silent Melody. She seemed to have little mini crystals decorating her vanity and nightstand. Her dresser held many vials all with some dried plants. Valerian root, Lavender, Chamomile, Passion Flower…I know what half of those are and I’m pretty sure they help with sleep and relaxation. I wouldn’t think that there would be plants that were the same in this world and on mine. Did Dream Weaver have problems sleeping? I continued to look around. I looked under the bed, looked through her closet, looked through the connecting bathroom, nothing stood out except to say that Dream Weaver was a spiritual pony. Her special talent is with dreams, she concocts potions and remedy's to help assist ponies with their problems and sells a bunch of charms. If I wouldn’t know any better, I would have thought she was a Pagan witch. That’s actually pretty cool. As I continued to look around, I noticed that the edges of her nightstand were further out then necessary. With a gentle nudge up, the top of the nightstand lifted up slightly. Still taking longer than deemed necessary since I still don’t know how to fully work my hooves, I took the delicate crystals off the nightstand and fully lifted the top of the nightstand. Inside was a record player. Wow, that’s actually pretty cool. When I really think about it, the ponies here haven’t really gotten far with technology. There weren’t any televisions, no cell phones, no iPod’s or cars of any kind. It wasn’t like there wasn’t ANY electricity. There were fridges, lights, and other small forms of it. But it doesn't seem like the ponies aren’t smart enough to come up with this stuff, apparently, it’s just wasn’t needed. They had magic. But what drew my attention was a very thick book that was strapped to the bottom of the lid. I could feel my ears twitching in curiosity as I clumsily unstrapped the book from the lid. When I finally got my hands….sorry, hooves on it, it was a thick purple leather book with a thin copper outlining. It was beautiful really. I wonder why Dream Weaver kept it in a place like this. Deciding to take peak, I hop onto the bed to get comfortable. Before I opened the book, I turned to the nightstand/record player. Inside was already a record ready to be played. I leaned over to read it. ‘Windland Heights’. I have absolutely no idea who that is. But it was better than the silence that overtook this room. Taking the needle, I put it at the edge of the disk, locking it in place. Seeing that it wasn’t a winding record player, but an actual electric one, I pressed the play button. At first there was silence, but slowly, a flute starts playing through the side speakers. It goes on it’s soft melody until it’s accompanied by a violin, then a harp, then it starts to get hard to distinguished and I am being surrounded by a soft melody of instruments that fills the heavy silence with a light peace. I couldn’t help but smile. I had a couple of Irish cds that I would play when I needed to relax and concentrate. I didn’t know what this was, but it gave the same sense as they did. Satisfied with Dream Weaver’s music choice, I turned back to the thick book occupying my lap. Carefully, I opened it up. Inside, I was immediately met with red handwriting. Usually journals of any kind have a little cover page; a title, the name of the journals owner, a little hint of what kind of journal it was, etc. But with this, Dream Weaver went immediately into writing. “I was pregnant. I don’t know who the father was, but I was walking around like it was nothing. I found that I was in love with a stallion, but we were friends. I don’t know who that stallion was but apparently we were friends along with this other mare. He was in love with her and soon they got engaged. When the wedding was coming up, I remember asking him to help me find something. I didn’t really lose anything; I just wanted to get him alone and probe on why he loved her so I could understand. After a while, I started to realize that they belonged together. Of course, I was upset, but I couldn’t help but be happy for him if he was that happy. Weirdly enough, at the wedding, I met someone else. He was handsome, had a rockin’ body, and the most beautiful, gentle, violet eyes I’ve ever seen. We hit it off…it was almost like love at first sight. He asked me out for a date. I was so happy that I said yes right away. I was a little worried he’d see me pregnant and be put off, but he seemed to look at me like I was the most important mare in the world when I told him that the father wasn’t in the picture and I’d be raising the baby by myself. The next day, I realized that we never actually set up a date and that other than his name, it was Gadget by the way I forgot to mention, I realized I had no way to find him; I cried forever. All of a sudden, my dream shifts and I’m walking around Ponyville with a little baby strapped to my side. When I turned a corner, I bumped into somepony. It was Gadget. I couldn’t believe it. All of a sudden, I was swept in his embrace. He wasn’t just hugging me, but my baby as well. He whispered to me that he couldn’t believe he finally found me. He was about to kiss me, but that’s when I woke up.” I couldn’t help but choke up a bit; that was such a beautiful little story. It wasn’t till I read the last sentence that I realized that this was somebody’s dream. A little below that was a name. ‘Windy Whispers’. So this was a dream that she had. Below that was another paragraph, written in black ink. “Upon further probing and questioning, I’ve determined that this wasn’t a vision of the future as Windy Whispers wished, but just a normal dream into her subconscious. Windy Whispers had concerns about any baggage and being accepted with anything she brings with her from the past. Her subconscious shows that she has the ability to let go when needed and to open her heart and mind to the possibility that she can have a future where any baggage or heartache she brings with her would be accepted by another and maybe even help her with it. I would recommend that any demons she has with her that she is worrying about, though I will give her the option to actually share them with me if she pleases, she should let go or accept them.” I wouldn’t exactly call a baby baggage…I thought to myself as I read. But I could see her point. I guess the baby represented everything that weighed her down in life. The dude that she let go was her accepting that things are the way it should be and this new dude was proof that there was someone, or some future, that accepts everything about her….. Oh…. THIS WAS DREAM WEAVER’S PRECIOUS DREAM JOURNAL!!! I realized this a little too late for my liking. But this was low key in the back of my mind. Lemon Twist said that Dream Weaver kept a dream journal for her clients and that she was very protective of it. I was wondering where she kept it. So I was right before, Dream Weaver’s specialty was dream interpretation. It was actually pretty cool. I’ve always loved to wonder what my dreams were telling me, but I never got into it. They were always too weird and random. I remember having a dream dictionary on my bookshelf that Anna gave me. I skimmed it over and even tried to interpret my own dreams, but they were usually all over the place for me to actually get anywhere with. A small ball of anxiety started forming in the pit of my stomach. If I’m here long enough, I’m going to have to get back to Dream Weaver’s duties and start doing dream readings! I don’t know how to interpret dream! I mean, when I read over this entry, while, I didn’t get where she got some of this shit from, it seemed pretty easy to read. What if someone comes and gives me some weird ass dream that’s all over the place and I’m not going to know what to tell them!? I quickly slam the journal shut and put it on the other nightstand on the other side of the bed and dove under the covers. The music continued to play, while different, still gave the room a peaceful setting that helped quiet my mind. I guess this is what Dream Weaver listened to to help her relax. I force my mind to go blank and only listen to the music. Ever so slowly, I could feel my eyes getting heavier and soon it went from hearing a sweet melody to hearing nothing at all. “…eam We…er” “Dre… Weav…” “Are ..ou alr…t?” “Wai..” “…..ing not …ight..” “W… are yo..?” “Al..ce M..ls?”