Dreams.

These dreams weren’t normal, at least I don’t think so.

Once I woke up, I really wanted to write everything down, I didn't want to lose the thought, I wanted to document it before it’s gone. I kicked the sheets with heavy eyelids and reached for the pen and notebook I usually kept on my nightstand. My hand scanned it and I only found my glasses, so I quickly got up and started looking in my bookshelf. I didn’t even find my books although I was just… dreaming of them.

It didn’t matter, I just needed to find a paper and a pen. I believe I searched the whole room before I started picking up a random thing and looking for a paper in all the drawers.

“I JUST NEED A DAMN PAPER!”

"Aha! There’s the grocery receipt" I thought. I had to look for a pen. I dumped all the stuff in my backpack on the floor and I found a small, dusty purple crayon. I took it and slid down in the nearest chair. The long, logo-covered receipt was laying in front of me, and the crayon was dancing between my fingers. I was still replaying everything that happened in that dream, surprisingly I remembered it all. The urge to do something with the crayon was killing me. I wanted to do something, anything.

But I sat still.

I could feel my heart racing, my palm started to sweat from all the clenching and I was drowning in a pool of cold sweat. Yet, I just sat there. The tip of my crayon was screaming to touch the paper and I felt trapped in my body as I truly couldn’t find the ability to move.

I wasn't able to do anything. I couldn’t think of anything to write, or… how to write.

I squeezed my eyes as I tried to remember anything from that dream. Those… symbols. Ah! Letters. They called them letters. I needed to add those on paper.

It was insane, how I knew what those were. I was able to read them! Hell, I knew what reading was! It was real, but not. Like… an alternative reality, where I knew everything.

I shut my eyes as I tried to remember better. Then, the images flashed in my head again.

There were these hands, they were pushing some buttons … buttons that
I didn’t know what they did. Afterward, letters were appearing on a paper from the buttons those hands pushed. What were they? What the f*ck were those letters?

“DO”

“NOT”

“TELL….”

I pushed the crayon on the paper and blindly wrote everything I saw. It felt strange and it was indeed, but way more difficult than I thought.  My writing was so much different from anything I saw in my dreams, very illegible. And as soon as I was able to actually read the words I’ve written, I went to the kitchen, turned on the stove, and burned the paper. I burned the paper and did all I can to erase everything that happened.

“Sir!”

“Yes?”

“There’s unusual brain activity in subject fifty-two’s right hemisphere, you must see this.”