“Why is it so hard to wake up?”
“Because I don’t want you to wake up.”
“No, I’ve got to get out of bed. I can’t be late for work.”
“You are a lot more late for work than you think.”
“How do you know? Who are you? Why can’t I open my eyes?”
“Because I’m a Dream Eater and as soon as you stop resisting, I’m going to keep on eating yours.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m linked to you, Chucky boy. I’m a particular type of telepath. I need to eat dreams to survive.”
“Eat…dreams?”
“Yes. Healthy for me, crazy making for you. If I eat your dreams, I get food but you don’t get into REM sleep and you go crazy. If I keep you under indefinitely, you die.”
“I’m dreaming now. You’re not real. You can’t…be. Tired. Hard to think.”
“Yes, you are tired, too tired to resist. Now be a good lad and drift off again so I can have my next meal.”
“What…happens…to…me?”
“Who cares.”
*****
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Collier. There’s nothing we can do to bring your husband out of his coma.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Anne Collier could barely restrain her tears as she looked down at the inert form of her husband Chuck.
“How long?”
“We can keep him alive indefinitely, but there’s no brain activity. Everything that made your husband Charles Collier…well, he’s not there anymore.”
It still took Anne another month before she decided to take Chuck off of life support. Then the Dream Eater had to find another dreamer to feed on.
Not much of a back story for this one. I’ve gotten to an age where I like to take afternoon naps on lazy Sunday afternoons if no one’s around. Didn’t get a nap today and it’s hard to shake the “sleepys”.
Reblogged this on Grand Dreams.
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Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
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