Psychology Class, (Open)

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

The school’s counselor had been setting on the classroom's window ledge for just a few minutes, or at least it seemed to him. Twenty-two minutes was a more figure and time was quickly passing the psychologist bye. His next class would begin soon but for him that moment seemed a ways away. He stared blankly out into the grey puffs of clouds that rolled overhead and hovered above the buildings that mark the school he considered home. Streams of clear liquid rolled down the old glass form the persistent rain making his view somewhat obscure. He could hear the students as they passed from one building to another all trying their best to stay at least a little dry.

The pitter-patter of the droplets against the pane offered a soothing distraction from the stresses of his position at Somnium. Not much seemed to have changed since he had walled the halls as a student here himself far more years ago than Richard was willing to admit. Rumors of haunting and of strange occurrences still lingered among the occupants. Most could only form a vague idea as to how such things occurred but for the alumnus he had a pretty good idea. The connection between worlds seemed exceptionally strong at the academy. Beings from the dream world passed into theirs from time to time just as they did while in nocturnal slumber. Even so it was more of a home than he had ever enjoyed and his memories as a youth here bound his as close as the ties between real life and the Dream Realm.

A clap of thunder that reverberated through the room awoke the doctor from his ponderings and he looked away from the watery view. In his hand he held a small fading portrait of his deceased fiancé. Her image smiling up at him as lifeless as the body of the person whose image resided on the paper. Robert let his eyes drop back down to the valued remembrance and a tear began to form in his eyes. He swallowed hard trying to burry the emotions once more behind the façade of decorum he wore as dutifully as the striped tie that hung about his neck. The loss was still too real to him and the emotions it raised were far too close to the surface.

“Emily,” he whispered in a somewhat strained voice.

He stood and walked the short distance to the wooden desk and laid it gently on the smooth surface. For a moment the man stood taking in a few deep breaths before reaching in his blazer’s breast pocket for his wallet. Slowly he sank in the worn wooden chair that always occupied the space adjacent to the aging piece of furniture than picked up the picture again. A moment longer he gazed at the beautiful smiling red head and than placed it in the leather billfold where it had originally resided. Dr. Peterson placed the item back into his pocket and sat motionless, his hands resting idly on his trouser covered knees. Another deep breath and the melancholy expression seemed to fade into a more tranquil one.

Robert glanced over at his open laptop and the numerous messages he would have to get around to sooner or later, sooner be more to his liking. The counselor always wanted to be punctual even with his email correspondence. Than the bell rang and the hurried rush of students entering his classroom began. He glanced one more time at the piling list of things he needed to do than closed the window and opened the presentation for the day.

On the wall behind him was a whiteboard, one he had purchased himself to set on the ledge that protruded from the wall just below the old sheet of slate the school provided. The image that projected held the name of the topic he wanted to discuss with his students for the day, one that he thought all of them would be eager to discuss. It was also a subject he himself was quite interested in and had actually performed research on.

In bold letters white letters that contrasted with the much darker background were the words, ‘Dreams and their Interpretation.’

He smiled once he realized his slides were ready to go. The professor reached in the inside of his jacket and retrieved a small remote and he took too the few steps to the front of his desk and began to speak, “good afternoon, ”he began, “please take your seats and take a glance at the boards. I think you will enjoy today’s subject.”

[Yuna Lockheart]

Some subjects were better left alone. That was how Yuna saw psychology anyway, it was unnatural to her... issues of the mind were better left to the person to deal with. That was exactly what she thought.

But, she found it funny that their teacher did not seem a ease presently either. Yuna was good at reading people, very good.
She remembered Blake from the other day with a smile, she'd known he wasn't at peace either, just by looking at his eyes. This teacher... while old, still seemed to be troubled by something.
Though, she was happy to notice that the man had faint smile lines, not frown ones. That generally decided wether or not he was a nice person, and.... he seemed nice enough.

Turning her attention to the window beside her, Yuna peered out, watching the grey rain patter and slide down the glass, a smile spread over her lips, musing silently to herself.
His voice brought her out of her imagination, beginning the lesson, Yuna sat upright, and opened her book, the sketches of video game characters were littered throughout her book, she had refused to buy a new one, so Cloud Strife occupied half of her page, she grinned down at him for a moment, before she flicked to a fresh page, with only one character on the left hand side, Squall. She looked him over fondly, before lifting her pen, and looking to the board.

Her eyebrows lifted, 'More about dreams?'
she hadn't had a chance to visit the dream world yet, but she was looking forward to it.

Her head jerked up as a boy walked past and nocked her pencilcase from the edge of her desk, smirking at her. His eyes falling down to the page before her, onto Squall, his eyes flashed from recognition of the character, to... something cruel.
Yuna slammed her book shut and a small growl built up in her throat.

That had been happening a lot lately, her Brazilian heritage set her out from the norm, her accent, complexion and looks all stood out. Dark skin and hair opposed to the pale and light shades of skin and hair her classmates had.
Said boy before her, smirked again, and walked to his seat without a second glance.

Yuna stood to retrieve her case, returning to her seat again. The kids didn't seem to want to sit with her either, there was a birth of empty seats around her. The new girl, yet again. For the second time.
She almost wanted the bat back again.

It had hit her harder than expected, once she'd discovered that Blake wasn't in her year either, that meant that two of the people she knew at the school, where both a year older than she was.

She turned her attention back to the teacher, the buzz of voices of the students slowly dying down as each person took their seat. Clearing her throat to keep the stinging from her eyes to a minimum, she wouldn't cry... that was only for bed time, when she was alone.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Robert smiled as he watched the procession that entered his classroom. He found the exuberance of their youthfulness exhilarating and took energy from it. He could remember those days, the days when he sat in the same wooden desks and heard the old folks dribble on about things that seemed so irrelevant at the time. But perspectives change and his had as he became more familiar with the waking world.

The room seemed darker than usual, a result of the grey skies and the rain droplets that distorted the view of the worlds through the old glass windows. Shadows seemed to move as the liquid rolled down the clear surface forming rivets and cascading down on an uneven path. The crash of a pencil case against the hardwood floor was nearly audible over the voices of those taking their seats. Still, he caught enough of it to turn his attentions towards it long enough to see Yuna bend down to retrieve it. His smile seemed to fade a bit as he pondered how the container had come to be on the floor and remembered the rudeness of other students towards him and their purposeful clumsiness.

”All right,” he began, “some of you have already have ideas…” muffled snickers filled the are as some of the students found humor in the subject. He stopped for a moment than continued, “have ideas about what your dreams mean. Others of you are a confused as I am with trigonometry as to what happens when you dream and why on earth you would even think about dreaming such a thing.”

He sat on the edge of the well-used wooden desk letting one leg dangle for a moment and pressed the remote so the first slide appeared. On it was the image of a green landscape as scene from a high vantage point. The picture was peaceful and serene. And offered little that would frighten any of those viewing it.

”Some of our dreams are rather peaceful,” he offered than pressed the remote again and another image appeared.

The picture that appeared was not exceptionally scary. It featured a mermaid sitting on the edge of a waterfall. The scene was quite peaceful with mountains and a rainbow. Yet there were elements that might be a bit frightening. Two ape like creatures, one of either side of the falls were present and though neither one of them appeared threatening they could be.

”Others,” he continued, “are more serial and perhaps not as tranquil.” ” While still others are enough to makes us wish we never dreamed at all.”

He pressed the remote again and yet another image emerged. The image caused some of the students to gasp and brought chuckles from others. In it a vampire nurse was poised atop a frighten patients as she muffled his screams of horror and prepared to bite into his neck. The bed sheets were stained with blood and the man clutched desperately to the nurses top as if trying to figure out a way to get the creature off of him.

”My point isn’t that we have different dreams.” he said letting the image stay on the screen, ”as much as why do we dream the things we do?”

Robert stood and walked towards the window and than looked back at his class, ”You will find here at the Academy that when you dream you have a dream form. This form, weather we want to admit it or not is something that our own minds create.”

He flipped the remote once more and let the screen go blank, ”why do you think we have the forms we have and do you thing we can change them?”

The professor let the question hang in the air and hoped his students would give an answer. Looking out over the seated group he was sure they all had questions regarding such things, at least he knew he did when he was a student.

[William Saxton]

Will wandered around the hallways. It was his off time but he felt there was a need that needed to be done. He figured if he heard something he liked then he would pop in. It was one of the many things that could feed his time and possibly keep him interested. One of the flaws of being a senior here.

He passed classes that he already took. The doors were left ajar but nobody could see him. He passed classes full of younger students being taught the basics before they could move on to the stuff that interests them. He took a minimum of a fives classes but had two hours worth of nothing.

He glanced at a window and noticed the rain coming down. He would be awake longer then ever tonight. The claps of thunder would bring peace to his room where only he was. IT was something that he enjoyed but he couldn't put his finger on why he did. It gave him a feeling of relaxation as of late. The dream world was starting to bother him more and more.

A clap of thunder and he heard screams. They were girls so he moved on. He came to a class with a open door. The teacher was talking about dreams. Not a heavy topic here, most tried to avoid it. Most didn't want to know why it happened but there were some who did. Will was one of those people who knew the dream had a meaning but could never figure it out.

He leaned against the doorway and could see everything. Engrossed in the lesson that was going on he didn't move. The images that flashed on the screen were vivid and wild. Will lost himself in the last one. A vampire, like himself, was taking in a kill. He had never done that but there were times when the blood lust became to much.

The teacher flipped the remote once more and let the screen go blank, ”why do you think we have the forms we have and do you thing we can change them?”

No one was speaking so Will took this time to answer it. "The form we have in the dream world is the form of our inner self, in a way. The way I see it is that it is the thing or person you wish to be but never will be in a way." He glanced around the room. He wasn't scared of his dream form. He just didn't know if he wanted to say his in front of them all. "Say someone was a tiny kitten in the dream world, maybe the innocence of being a cat is what they want. And to answer the next one you can change it, but only if the problem in the real world is fixed."

He knew he was answering but that didn't register with his brain. "Sorry to intrude on this lesson but I found it interesting."

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Robert heard the voice from the side of the room. He leaned forward a bit trying to identify who it was that made the comment. In the doorway he could see the young man and he nodded, “excellent thesis statement.” To be honest the counselor could not recall seeing him before. He knew that the newcomer was not a regular member of his class but that made little difference. Obvioulse he had a good grasp on what he believed regarding the subject and he hoped that his words would spark further debate among the students.

“You’re welcome to join us if you wish,” he said with a grin, “but if you are looking to take the course for credit I recommend seeing the registrar.”

He meant his last statement more as a joke and it seemed to go over well with the class as some laughter could be heard, “I apologize but I don’t believe I know your name, Mister…”

He hoped the lad would identify himself and than take his place among the pupils.

[William Saxton]

Will smiled at the man in front of him. He pushed himself off the doorway and started to come into the class. He recalled some of his friends in there. They all know his views on the dream world and were in here to learn more so they could argue. He stepped in with little thought. "I'm William," he smiled at the man.

A laughter rang throughout the class. "Thank you for letting me join, Mr..." he came to think but he didn't know the man's name either. "I'm sorry but I don't know your name either."

He went to sit down in one of the empty seats beside a girl. She looked a few years younger then himself. She must be new, no one was sitting around her. He took the desk beside her and gave a smile.

[Yuna Lockheart]

Eyebrows shot up as a boy paused at he doorway... and interjected into the lesson. Yuna blinked and listened to his words, not sure what to think. He wasn't in her year... that was obvious, his answer to the question confused Yuna, she still found it hard to decipher the English and American accents, she’d had a hard enough time in Australia with that exact problem.

He introduced himself as William, and Yuna's eyes flicked from him to the teacher and back again as the exchange was made.

Then he entered... and sat in a seat beside Yuna.
"Peterson." she murmured to William as he asked the teachers name in return, "...Mr Peterson."

Then she raised her hand, a question in mind, "Sir... uh... what if the dream form is the same? What if... said person has no dream form? They are just.. them-self?" she asked, a snicker arose from the class as her accent registered to them.
She bit her lip, and ignored it as best she could averting her gaze back to her book, eyes on... but not seeing the pictures there.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

”Peterson,” The counselor responded with a grin, ”Robert Peterson.

“Excellent question Miss. Lockheart,” Robert responded with a smile. “But are you really yourself in the dream world,” he questioned, “if when you dream here at the Academy and you find you look like yourself and you feel like yourself are your dream form and waking form truly identical, is your perception a valid one?”

He left it as a question wanting others to take a stab at the possible answers. He was himself in the dream word, that was true, but a much younger version of himself. He knew the reasons for it too and had been working steadily on trying to resolve the issues that kept him so young and vulnerable. Robert was tired of being the frightened boy always running. Yet that is what he was inside, a frightened boy longing to be accepted and loved. There had been improvements over the years as he dealt with the many personal issues that plagued him. Travis, his dream form, had grown up some and seemed to be a bit better at dealing with the world that terrified him. Still, he had only managed to age seven years and compared to his actual age it was still extremely young.

“Could we compare it to say looking in a mirror,” Dr. Peterson asked as he pressed his remote again. ”is our dream form a reflection of our waking forms than, and if so does it mean that if our dream looks like our waking form that they are the same?”

“William,” he said continuing his questioning, “you stated that the form of our inner self, a representation I believe was the word.” His smile was wry and his eyes twinkled slightly, “so if what I see looking back at me in this representation looks identical to my waking form does that mean I have reached some sort of perfection or can my dream form still teach me something about myself?”

[William Saxton]

Peterson, he had hard the name before. The dream teacher as some put him. That wasn't a name he was likely to get from Will. He was the teacher here that moved about the dream world, he may be able to answer questions. Questions that Will couldn't answer, one being why his heart was gone, but he felt he knew that one.

The girls beside him asked a very interesting question. It was possible, or so he thought. To have your dream form be you, maybe even at the present time. For that you must like yourself enough to accept your problems and fears. But that was very unlikely to happen, yet it must.

"No sir I don't think so," he answered his question. "I think that if it is a representation of yourself and looks the exact same you have reached peace with yourself. In this case your dream form may act more as a guide then anything." He lowered in his seat a little. He had spent many hours studying this himself. The dream world, finding answers. Countless hours in the library and asleep. He had question that he wanted answers to. "But just becasue they look the same doesn't mean they are the same. Your dream form could be the thing you don't want to be in that case. It could have all the problems you as the waking form have but don't show."

[Yuna Lockheart]

Now Yuna was only curious, she hadn't had her chance at visiting the dream world... she didn't know what her form was... she wanted to know, hopefully she'd find out tonight, she was sort of looking forward to it.

The way the teacher and this... William spoke about the world, she knew it had to be something decent, she listened into Will's response to Peterson's question, and smiled slightly.

She spoke up again, "What if our dream form changes? What if it becomes something completely different to what we started out as?"

Yuna bit her lip again, she had always been like this, when she didn't know much about something, she'd ask as many questions that she needed to to understand.

The dream world happened to be one of those things, that and she felt that Will know a little too much. She had to wonder what his dream form as.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

The counselor was pleased Will was an independent thinker. He hated it when his student merely spitted back at him exactly what he said. The lad seemed to have a grasp of what he was talking about and knew how to express his opinions.

Robert nodded and smiled back at the speaker, “excellent,” he said letting his eyes relay the message he was pleased with the response.

Than Yuna responded too, something he had hoped would happen given she was in his class and typically spent most of her time doodling on her pad of paper. He stood up and walked closer to the seated students intent on listening to their questions.

“Your dream form will not change without some effort on your part,” he offered, “this is exactly why understanding what dreams mean is of such importance. If you want to change the form you have in the dream world you need to know why that particular aspect is what it is.” Dr. Peterson looked up at the class and continued, “all of you can change what your dream for is. It takes conscious effort but it is possible.”

He walked back towards the projector and pressed his remote. On the screen popped the next slide. This time the image of Charley the Chipmunk popped on the screen and peels of laughter echoed through the room.

Robert smiled and turned back to face the class, “ok” he said, “for those who are aware of who he is, this is Charley. How many of you would actually want to be this fellow in the Dream world?”

A few hands went up mostly in jest though the counselor assumed at least one would be more pleased with being the cartoon character on the screen than what they currently were when they dreamed. He smiled broadly, “I rather doubt if he would be your first choice.”

“To change Charley to say this guy,” he pressed the remote again and the image of the Terminator came on the screen.

The picture was of the liquid robot as he absorbed bullet after bullet from his adversaries. Robert smiled again as more laughter spread across the room. Once again he press the remote and Charlie began to morph into the metallic creature.

“My point isn’t that the Terminator is better than Charley as a dream form,” Robert said letting a wry smile cross his face, “rather that it might take several small changes to complete renovate your dream form.”

“I don’t think miss Lockheart,” the doctor said, “you or any of us for that matter are going to have to face an extreme makeover of our dream selves without at least a hint as to why that happened. They don’t seem to change from night to night or even year to year. There has to be some event, either intentional or otherwise that brings about the change, most often it is something that has happened gradually rather than you go to sleep and suddenly you are something you weren’t the last time you went to dream land.”

This time there was no laughter. The class seemed to realize that it was no laughing matter, “so, how does one go about figuring out why there dream form is what it is even if they don’t particularly want to change it?”

[William Saxton]

Will saw the glint in the doctors eyes. He had spent hours on end wanting to know more. He loved this stuff but he knew why his dream form was what it was. He also knew it wouldn't ever change, or at least the vampire part. Vampires loved pain and he loved giving it. Vampires were things that have a blood lust and to take care of it they took blood. His past created a monster inside him but it wouldn't show unless in the dream world.

He started to get uncomfortable sitting down. IT was something that he didn't like doing if he was giving a explanation. Slowly he got up and went to a wind on the side of the room. He smiled at the girl that was next to him as if to say "I'll be back."

"It takes a long time to know why your dream form is what it is," he said. He wasn't going to share his background on why his was what it was to the class. "To know why your dream form is what it is you have to know yourself. Your past plays a big role in this, I'm sure. But it also has something to do with what you the person are inside."

He wanted to come up with a example. "Okay so say the person was a big bully and their dream form was a kitten. The kitten is cute, harmless, small, and soft. Maybe that is what he wants to be, the good guy."

He sat on the window sill and looked back at the doctor. "In short you have to know who you really are. And what you want the most in your life."

[Sebastian Quinn]

Sebastian Quinn rushed down the corridor. 'Rushing' to him consisted of a brisk and urgent walk, with no running to be seen. Running of course was unsightly, it made a man appear tousled and brought about a redness in the face. Running was only necessary when participating in a sporting activity when a blush to the cheek seemed healthy and jovial.

It was very much like his father to extend a lunch from half an hour to almost a full one. Mr Sebastian Quinn Senior was an important man after all, and important men could extend lunches for however long they wanted. Sebastian (Junior) rolled his eyes as he turned the final corner, he had always hated those monthly lunches with his dear old papa. All they ever consisted of were rehearsed lectures along the lines of: "Don't forget your aim" and "Remember who you're going to become". Never "who you are", just "who you're going to become".

Soon the door to his destination came into view--the Psychology classroom. After taking a moment to compose himself Sebastian entered the room and, seeing that the class was already in progress, gave Dr. Peterson his most sincerely sorry smile.

"I apologise for my lateness," he said politely. "It was a... family emergency of sorts. I promise it won't ever happen again." With a nod towards the teacher that was equally as polite as his words, Sebastian began to make his way to his desk only to find another boy perched upon the windowsill beside it. For such a respected school one would assume Somnium would at least have enough seats available for all its students; but of course the Academy didn't even have separate classes for different years when electives such as Psychology were concerned--he had to learn alongside GCSE students for God sake.

With a sigh Sebastian took his seat and gave the whiteboard a cursory glance. It seemed this lesson was about dreams, how very predictable...

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Robert was distracted by the entrance of another pupil as Will made his reply. Another clap of thunder filled the air and rattled the old windows. The storm seemed closer now or at least more severe.

It was unlike Mr. Quinn to be tardy. He was rather punctual, a fact that the professor appreciated greatly. As he made his apologies and took his seat he nodded and let a faint smile cross his face, ”welcome Mr. Quinn,” he offered trying not to make such a big deal about the situation. It seemed to weigh heavily though on the young man though at least he had enough self-confidence to make his apologies.

“We are discussing dreams and their interpretation Mr. Quinn,” The psychologist said trying to fill in the new arrival so he could get into the discussion quickly, ”and at present we are looking at why we have the particular dream forms we have.”

”Your insights are very much on target Will,” he said looking over at the student sitting on the window sill.

He pressed the remote and the image of a man looking at his reflection in a mirror flickered onto the screen, “now that we have an idea what goes into what causes us to have our various dream forms let us think about why certain things occur in those dreams. Are they random events we have no control over? Do the inhabitants of the dream world control them, at least to some extent or are we completely in control of the things that occur around us in the dream world?”

[William Saxton]

Will sat back in the window. He watched the boy come in and sit close to him. Will didn't know him so he didn't pay that close attention to him. His attention turned back to the screen.

The question that was asked he didn't have a answer to. He had a small one but it wasn't of much hope to the class. He figured he would at least try to answer it the best he could. No one else was starting to say anything.

"The dreams we have could be Random," he started out not really knowing how to answer it. "Of course there are the ones that mean something. But I think the dreams could possible your mind replaying something in your subconscious." That was his best answer. He really didn't know f it was a good one or not. "But some things are out of our control in the Dream world. But if we were in control doesn't that mean that we wouldn't have nightmares in the dream world?"

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

“Not necessarily,” the counselor responded, “sometimes our minds creates such things to help us resolve issues we refuse to deal with while we are awake.”

Dr. Peterson switched the image on the screen again. This time it was of a man standing in a field of clocks. There were all sorts of time keeping devices from Grandfather clocks to digital displayed watches. They all had different times and the man was covering his ears as if trying to deaden the noise of all the clocks sounding at ounce.

The man chuckled, “like when we feel we have too much to do, too many deadlines we might have a nightmare like this.”

There was a peal of laughter that burst from the class and one of them said, “yah like too much homework.”

Again there was laughter and the doctor nodded, “precisely, we may not have dealt with the stressful press of deadlines… such as homework… and now your mind may be trying to tell you something.”

“You may also recall that there is something called lucid dreaming,” he continued, “when you are aware you are dreaming. When this happens you can manipulate some of what happens in your dreams.” The counselor was ready for yet another question, one he was sure he could get a lot of discussion on, “do you think than that if you are aware of that you are in the dream world you can manipulate what is happening?”