You know that moment when you're in a dream, but you're so self-inserted you fail to register it ain't reality?
Max's therapist called it oneirophobia.
His doctor thought it was some false awakening anxiety.
His friends were convinced that it's just because he'd been single for too long.
But his mom? She says he's perfectly fine.
Indeed he was fine.
He just needed some sleep...again.
The skies rumbled.
Leaves billowed about as a violent cyclone swept through the barren land that looked devoid of life, stripping the trees naked and whistling a horrific harmony.
Max stood at the centre of a cracked tarmac road, fissures decorating its surface. In the distance, a clock tower chimed, a faint monotonous tune.
He looked around him. Of course, he had no idea how he had come to be there. These dreams were becoming more frequent.
But each time he dreamt of this barren scape, the faint smell of ozone still lingered in the air, the darkened clouds still painted the horizon pitch black, flashing with red lightning that lit up the sky in a nature-orchestrated light show.
Each dream he had of this place so far felt more vivid than the last.
DONG!!!
The clock tower chimed again, getting louder each second. Its long and short arm pointed at 12, but it never chimed 12 times, at least not in Max's dreams. If anything, he was bound to wake up any instant before it even chimed halfway through its journey.
5 more chimes came, and Max still stood there, the wind howling in his ears. Something was not right, he had never stayed for too long in this lucid dream of his.
The clock had chimed 10 times now. Max's heart beat fast like it wanted to explode out of his chest. He knew it was just a dream, but something about this one was unsettling. He began to long for the warm sheets of his covers, the fluffiness of his pillow. If his physical body was somewhere out there, what was it doing still sleeping?
11…12 chimes.
Everything went black.
Max jerked up from his bed, gasping for air as if someone had been choking him to death. The room was chilly from the air conditioning, but beads of sweat cascaded down his face, his bare chest, and even soaked him in the crotch.
It was not like him to get this spooked. He reached for the bottle of water on his bedside drawers and took a huge gulp.
What was he spooked for? This was just a dream wasn't it?
He remembered his cat, Stacy, her bed usually nestled under his. Judging from the vibrations coming from under the bed, he could tell she was awake.
He reached for her from above the bed, inserting his hand in the empty space between the bottom of his bed and the floor. As he would've expected, she licked and nipped at his fingers. He stroked her fur and heard her purr. Stacy had lived with them for years. She was the one thing that kept him from running insane in this crazy world.
She coiled her body around his arms and he hoisted her nimble form up on his bed. Maybe one day, it would be a woman he would be laying with, but for now, his cat would do perfectly.
Of course, he only cuddled with his cat. Who didn't?
He checked the time on his phone. The screen flashed 1:00am. He knew he needed to get back to sleep. Today was going to be a big day for him. He was finally going to the college of his dreams. All those years of international exams and school work finally paid off.
Judging from how rattled Max was when he woke up, he never expected sleep to come so swiftly. With his ginger cat in his arms, a strange calm settled over him as his eyes fluttered close.
Even as he dozed off, he could still hear that clock chiming, somewhere in the back of his head.
——
"Max, wake up!"
He felt an arm violently tapping him on the shoulders.
"Get up. You'll be late!"
Max's mom, Sally, stared at him from across the bed with those deep blue eyes. He was basically a photocopy of her looks and charm, sporting blonde hair like hers that settled on his scalp in curls.
"We have to check in early. You know the student rush will be crazy today."
"I'm up, I'm up." Max said as he sat up on his bed, beckoning at her to stop shaking him like he was dying.
Sally was a single mother with an only child, Max. After his dad passed away, his greedy uncles took everything and left his family with little to spare. His mom had managed to scrape a living out of it all. She worked three jobs, and he went to school.
You could say that Max owed his academic prowess to Sally. Because of her, he worked twice as hard in school. He aced his papers, and enrolled for every exam he could think of, and finally got a scholarship to study at an elite school in Pittsbrough, the capital town of Danville.
To say his mom was happy was an understatement. Sally was even more excited about the scholarship than he was, and even as Max gobbled the big hearty breakfast she made, he couldn't help but squirm under her awestruck gaze.
"Will you stop looking at me before I choke?"
Sally caught herself, escaping from her momentary daze.
"Oh, sorry. I'm just so proud of you, Max. You'll do well in Triad college. I'm sure of it. But still…"
Max rolled his eyes. She was about to bore him with the same lectures she always gave him.
"Stay in school. Don't waste your time with parties and bad friends, girls especially, and most importantly…"
"Don't drop out.", Max completed her sentence for her.
"You've told me this a thousand times mom."
At the back of his mind, he always wondered if his mom wanted him to end up alone, like her.
No, too dark.
Max thought to himself.
"I just want you to be safe, happy, and most importantly, focused."
He scraped away at the last of his bacon, enjoying the sweet saltiness of the dish.
Max suddenly thought of those dreams he'd been having, wondering if he should tell Sally. . Last night's experience was something he didn't want to repeat.
But then, he looked at the way she bounced happily as she left the dining area and hauled his bags with her mom strength. After his father died, she hadn't smiled this much. He didn't want to ruin that for her.
Besides, she would probably just assume he was being paranoid, like she always did.
"You'll be fine.", she had said over the past two weeks that Max had begun seeing things.
After much pressing, she took him to a doctor who ruled it out as some phobia about dreams, but then again, how could he be scared of not witnessing something he had already witnessed countless times.
He decided against his better judgement to not tell her anything. After all, it was just a dream. Nightmares happened all the time.
Max couldn't have been more wrong.