A Slew of Questions [Dr. Peterson!]

[Crystal Dinaia]

She had woken up screaming that morning, clawing at the blankets that had violently trapped her in the Dream World. It was as if the sheets and comforters themselves had been the ones binding her to that other, terrifying world, that Purgatory that she was destined to enter on an almost-nightly basis. She had woken up her roommate with her screams, had required being held like a small child in a crumpled pile on the floor to simply make it through the hazy moments of confusion and rabid fear. Mere was a godsend to say the least; she hadn’t judged her by the tears in her eyes or the random sentences she repeated about demons and monsters before she had fully woken up. The nightmare creature had infiltrated the very recesses of her mind, threatening to blur the distinct lines between reality and dreamland Crystal had drawn long ago. It had shaken her. He had shaken her, shattered the only semblance of normalcy she had relied upon for so long. Now that she was dressed and had fled her room, she was beginning to feel better but not by much. As if she didn’t have enough to adapt to in the real world, now, something terrified her as much as automobiles did while she was in the Dream World. Only, it wasn’t like her fear of cars and trucks and vans, that was something she knew wasn’t reasonable. Her fear of him was quite reasonable. He could physically kill her in the other world, something she hadn’t realized could even happen.

The auburn haired girl relived the last moments as she walked down the hallways of the dormitories. He had destroyed the lines of personal contact, had violated her in so many ways that she shuddered to think about. Fedafyr, or the demon as her mind called him, had seemed innocent to begin with but had somehow transformed into something evil with the simplest dance. Had he always been that vile creature or had she done something to turn him into it? She had so many questions to ask someone, anyone, and she had tried asking William several of them, but he seemed as clueless as she was. Crystal would have trusted Dr. Murphy more than anyone here at Somnium, but he was unavailable for a month while he and his wife did some extended traveling in provinces that simply didn’t get cell phone reception. She wanted to get these thoughts out of her mind, needed to talk to someone about what had happened and the fierce anger that bubbled up within her body toward the people that had forced this world upon all of the students. Did others feel like she did? She knew she could leave Somnium at any time, but perhaps that mixture of fear and wonderment toward the Dream World was what honestly kept her at the school. Hell, she had already started pursuing career fields here. Was this just another morbid obsession of hers? Crystal hated to think that she was addicted to the strangeness of this place.

The sunlight outside of the dorms was bright, reminding her of the story her mother had told her about dreamcatchers when she was a small child. Crystal had always had one hanging above her bed when she was a child and one night when she asked, her mother told her a little story that made sense in a child’s mind. “Crystal,” she had said, “Dreamcatchers are actually items that can travel with you in sleep. They go with you into your dreams and form webs that capture nightmares. When you wake in the morning, the sunlight shines in through the windows and destroys each and every bad dream it has caught in its sticky strands.” With wide blue eyes, she had nodded, innocently, wholly believing her mother.

“What a crock of shit,” Crystal felt a little better now, just muttering the curse as she walked across campus, looking for something, looking for anything. Her hand still shook a little when she held it out in front of her, trembling with tightened nerves. The redhead had half a mind to actually check for wounds created by the dream demon, but she was almost afraid to see what she might find laced around her slim torso and soft skin. There had been so much blood. God, she hated to see her own blood. Bandaging wounds in the infirmary would be nothing if she got the job as compared to the amount of blood that had swam around her in the dream. She got the creeps again as she thought about it and revved her pace up to a jog.

The girl had dressed today as if she was covering absolutely every inch of her skin up. Dark, well worn denim jeans covered her legs and were long enough to drag against the ground at the back of her shoes, a pair of shockingly bright teal Converse flats. She had then layered a yellow and blue striped t-shirt with a blue cardigan, not paying much attention to how well they matched in her rush to get out of the room. Throwing on earrings and a turquoise bracelet, she felt good enough to leave without applying makeup, leaving her looking younger and more vulnerable than she cared to notice. She had pulled her long hair into a tight bun, but like always a few strands escaped and danced around her face and bright eyes. The messiness of her hair seldom bothered her because she had grown to accept it as a fact of life, though she tried to tame it each and every morning.

Crystal pushed through the doors to the academy building, more than two hours early for her first class. She almost thought about telling Dr. Peterson that she wouldn’t be in class today, her feet automatically taking her to his office. She bit her lip nervously and lifted a hand to knock on the heavy door, then chickened out and dropped it to her side. She did this twice, simply standing in front of his door, trying to rehearse what she would say to him. Hefting her body with a sight, she rapped twice on the door and shoved her hands into her pockets. The willowy girl stood there in the hallway, looking a bit forlorn as she twisted to see what was going down on the other ends of the hallway awkwardly, waiting for her teacher to open the door.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

The night had not been an easy one for Robert either. As usual he had been in this horrifying state of fear for the majority of his sleeping hours. He looked in the small mirror that hung rested against the half bath that connected to his office. He had replaced the one that had been left there by the previous counselor, it having succumbed to the ravages of age. Oddly shaped circular shaped had formed through the thin silver veneer that had served as the reflective material. It gave the person using it an inaccurate, faded and distorted view of their appearance. Even though Robert would not consider himself a vain sort of person, the thought of having to see himself in the ghastly thing had driven him to remove it from the premises. The mirror he purchased to replace the relic was far more elaborate than it needed to be. He had noticed ordered it online and anxiously awaited its delivery. Now the wooden framed oval mirror fastened securely in its place. He had requested the walls be painted too, though he doubted anyone would ever get around to it. The once creamy white surfaces had become more than a little yellowed and now appeared more as a mixed Hodge podgy assortment of variegated shades. If it was to be done he knew it would be him that would have to take brush in hand. To that end a small assortment of paint swatches were taped near the mirror in the hopes he could reach a conclusion as to which would he would best suit the room. Wallpaper seemed too, well, old fashion even for a forty-four year old.

He straightened his tie making sure the knot was precisely where he wanted it and than left the small rectangular room. As he walked to his desk he could feel his muscles as the ached from the nightly exertions. The counselor never had to take up running to loose weight while he was awake. His nocturnal activities seemed to provide more than enough activity to keep them tone and fit. Robert had once described these cat and mouse games as like being in a horrifying version of Alice in wonderland where you just keep going down the rabbit hole over and over again. It was an accurate enough description in many ways and yet it failed to capture the experience in what the counselor would describe as an adequate manor.

He reached over and started the music on his IPod Touch. Handel’s water music filled for where the gadget sat docked to the small Bose system. The familiar notes filled the air and a faint smile crossed his face. Nothing seemed to make his morning brighter than the time he could spend listening to his favorite music and putting the finishing touches on the day’s lessons. He sat down in the leather chair and turned towards his laptop that sat open on his desk. There dancing on the pixilated screen was familiar notice that mail awaited him once again. Looking at the name that indicated from whom it was from he shook his head, choosing to ignore the nagging urgency indicated by the bouncing envelope.

”Now, that can wait,” he said in a low voice.

Robert glance over at the couch that sat not far form him against the wall. It was another item he had replaced. The old leather monstrosity didn’t suit his liking. He had laid on it and declared it far too lumpy to be comfortable and so replaced it with a new one. The couch was a brilliant white and looked like a cloud just waiting to be laid upon. A fluffy pillow rested gently against the back that receded quickly downwards to the gathered cushion that served at the seat. White fringe dangled downwards concealing the ebony wood legs on which it rested. He smiled, broader this time as the thought about how well things were coming together.

He fussed momentarily with the way his rust and blue colored paisley tie that was suited for an old professor. Somehow the appeal of such clothing was becoming more and more lost on him. He had picked up the habit of dressing so old school while attending Harvard and teaching at the University of Michigan. Plaid blazers and sweater vests were becoming more of a straight jacket than a look he was enjoying. Still he had to, ‘play the part,’ to look like a professor of such an outstanding institution of learning, at least he thought. Perhaps someday he would feel more at home dressing like many of the other faculty. They seemed to be far more relaxed in their attire and he envied it.

Pushing such thoughts aside he began typing away on the notes he planned to use for his lecture. The sound of his fingers pressing against the keys was nearly covered by the orchestral music that played in the background. On his desk sat a steaming hot mug of coffee. It was not just any ordinary coffee. It was a cappuccino. Robert had learned to enjoy the vanilla mocha flavor and inevitably ended up with the piping hot beverage nearly every morning. The aroma filled the room and as he reached for the container to take a sip he heard something that caught his attention.

The distinct sound of knuckles against wood echoed over the wafting strains of violins and the Doctor lowered the volume. Under the darkly finished portal he could see rays of light that strayed into his office were blocked in two places distinct places. Robert sighted and stood to his feet.

Another interruption, at this hour, he questioned as his walked towards the door.

He could hear the click of his hard soles against the polished wood floor and thought for a moment how disquieting the sound was. Robert could remember far too well the sound as he awaited an adult to approach. He decided something might need to be done about the harsh noise. But that would have to wait. Someone was at his door and they took priority over such musings.

Robert grasped the brass knob firmly in his hand and opened the door towards him. As he saw the ruby haired young lady he smiled, pleased to see one of his star pupils. The smile quickly faded as he took in her distressed demeanor. He could see the unpleasant look in her sapphire eyes and his countenance fell accordance.

”Miss Dinaia,” the counselor asked with a look of concern. He glanced down the hall looking for what might have caused such a state in the young woman. Dr. Peterson found nothing but the empty halls of early morning.

“Come in… have a seat,” he said still puzzled by the students sudden appearance.

He stepped to the side so she could enter. Before her was the entrance to his office. A floor lamp lit the couch and a pair of leather; straight back chairs sat eagerly awaiting occupants directly in front of his desk. The drapes were opened allowing what sunlight was available at the early hour into the room Robert hoped was inviting to his guests.

[Crystal Dinaia]

The wait for the door to open was excruciating. Every step, every click on the other side of the door was maximized, illuminated in the silence of the hallway. The redhead gritted her teeth, turning back from her craning position just as Dr. Peterson opened the door. She was turned awkwardly, which only added to her strange, flustered demeanor as she walked into the room. If she had stayed at the doorway and had not accepted his invitation, it would have been easier for her to simply squeak out, “Dr.PetersonI’msickandIwon’tbeinclasstoday,” and bolt. Now that she was in the inner chamber of the room, Crystal was distracted by the renovations done in the room and the prettiness of the furniture. The room itself was still on its way to being shaped up, though she barely noticed the coat of paint the walls needed in her state. She fidgeted as she sat down in the chair, wringing her hands just a little as she sat there, silent for a few seconds.

Crystal looked up to see Dr. Peterson, dressed in a fashion that made him feel trapped but made him appear grounded. He was her father’s age, which immediately made her associate him with her parental figure. Unlike her father, however, the doctor gave off the impression of being solid without being stern or stuffy. He seemed to be a balanced figure and that in itself added a bit of calm to the calamity she was feeling. The girl jumped suddenly when she realized she hadn’t spoken a polite word since he had opened the door, merely ushering herself into the protective, warm space. “Oh! I… Can people die in their dreams?” What she had meant to say was, “Can I be excused from your class today,” But it just hadn’t come out that way, her words flowing out the moment she opened her mouth. The question was a simple one that could have simply been laughed off as an immature rambling, a childlike fear. Crystal, however, was sincerely concerned with the fact that her emotional state could possibly interfere with her physical state. There was a certain connection between the mind and the body that couldn’t be ignored. The girl looked miserable as she asked the question, biting down on her lower lip. Often Crystal liked to pose questions to people in a way that it wasn’t possible to be certain if she was talking about herself or someone else. From her actions, it was obvious that she was indeed talking about her own personal experiences.

“What I meant to say, was: Can beings in the Dream World kill you by scaring you to death?” Crystal had taken a deep breath before she spoke, twisting the bottom of her cardigan in her hands for some semblance of comfort. She hated to be in this position, having had enough experience on the proverbial couch while she had been hospitalized her during her tenth year. Confessing her feelings always had a way of making her feel guilty and even weaker than she had before, a rollover from her early years of organized Catholic religion. Perhaps Dr. Peterson would pat her on the head and tell her to say a few Hail Marys to make everything better. The idea was almost comical and placed an uncomfortable smirk on Crystal’s usually pretty face.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

As Crystal walked by he wasn’t too surprised by her not speaking. He could tell something was terribly wrong and he brows furrowed with concern. Students that came this distraught often were considering doing things that were harmful to themselves or others. Most often this was because they felt wronged, unwanted or unloved. The girl was pretty and intelligent. There was no doubt that she should be rather popular among her classmates so the distraught appearance she exhibited out of place. He also knew she did fairly well in her classes including his own so grades were certainly not the reason for her current state. He watched as she walked into his office still pondering what might have brought her their so early in the morning.

The Doctor flinched slightly as he watched Crystal jump and than make her hurried question regarding dyeing in the dream world. He saw her biting her lip as if in deep earnestness. He deep blue eyes seemed to plead with Robert for some sort of relief, an answer that would calm her shattered emotions.

”I certainly hope not,” he answered closing the door, ”if that is the case than I certainly would have died years ago.”

Robert hoped his words were of some comfort to the distraught young lady.

”I take it something happened last night that you need to talk about,” he asked gesturing towards one of the chairs.

Dr. Peterson placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. If he had children they could easily be about the age as Crystal. It hurt him to see any of his students in such a mental state but to see this red haired one this was hurt even more. The color reminded him of Emily, is deceased fiancé. Though her hair was quite curly and her eyes were emerald green there was enough of a similarity that one glance at her brought his departed love to his recollection.

“If you need to miss class,” he said removing his hand and taking a few steps towards his desk, “I certainly will if our little chat doesn’t calmed you down.”

[Crystal Dinaia]

Crystal wiggled into the comfortable seat, the mere contact of his hand on her shoulder bringing her a little more out of the dream. It had almost been as if the dream had lingered with her into the daylight hours, clouding her mind and making her paranoid even in the real world. This Dream World that they entered was a powerful thing, a place deeper than the simple dreams that took place inside the human mind. Dreams themselves had the ability to be potent enough to distract a normal human being; therefore, this other world only magnified that feeling in the girl. She had always been untrusting in the Dream World, keeping her face hidden deep inside the cloak she was always dressed in. Fearing the results of her actions in the Dream World only because they could reflect on her badly at school was a short-sighted belief. Never having met a creature quite like Fedafyr had left her sheltered feeling, almost as if she had been protected from all harm.

“I.. I had a dream about a demon.” The sentence was powerful, even though she said it quietly. Crystal looked up, worry swirling in her cerulean eyes as she met the teacher’s gaze. “It sounds silly, doesn’t it?” The girl laughed brokenly as she wrung her hands continuously, making the pale skin red. “But it was more than a dream, Dr. Peterson. I felt like he could have just… ripped through whatever fabric separates the two worlds just like he ripped through my skin. It hurt.” Unconsciously, the young woman’s hand drew to her side and rubbed her ribs delicately, afraid that they might simply begin bleeding if she didn’t. She had bitten down on her lip before speaking again, almost bringing blood to the surface. Opening her mouth, her words were less shaky and she began to sound more like herself, as if saying his name here had somehow banished the nightmare creature. “I’m glad you’re not dead and.. I don’t think I’ll need to miss class today. I’m starting to feel a little better as the sun comes up. Dreamcatchers, y’know?” Her eyes strayed to the window and the rising sun as her southern drawl spilled forth the words a bit longingly.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

“I see,” the counselor offered leaning back against the old wooden desk.

Robert listened carefully to the young woman trying to take in not only the words but the unspoken messages she projected as well. Meeting demons with less than honorable intentions was always a frightful thing even for the veterans like himself. Some were merely mischievous while others had more malicious intentions. They seemed to have a knack for picking their victims, at knowing just how to use their capabilities to their highest potential. For years now he had found himself a casualty of their dubious deeds. He had chosen to run in fear rather to put of a seemingly useless fight against an advisory he understood little about. Some of the denizens of the dream world were far less intimidating and when this occurred he was rather grateful. They often would be kind enough to inform him when the more malicious beings. Sometimes they would help or at least accompany him on his flight. Still, he hoped that one day he would be able to face his own demons in his own life and thus be able to face them in the Dream World.

“I’m glad I’m not dead too,” he offered letting a gentle laugh fill the air. “I am glad to hear you are feeling better too Crystal,” he offered crossing his arms as he spoke, “is this your first encounter with a demon?”

The doctor took in a deep breath than continued, “I have had my share of run ins with the local population myself,” he offered, “and most were not that… shall we say pleasant.” He tilted his head slightly, “there is nothing silly about being scared out of your wits.”

“You said you felt as if he could have ripped through your skin,” he asked letting an even more concerned look cross his face, “are you hurting now?”

“And what exactly do you mean by dream catchers,” he questioned thinking their had to be some important meaning behind the words.

[Crystal Dinaia]

“This is my first encounter with almost anyone in the Dream World.. I tend to keep myself hidden when I’m there and listen to everything that I hear. I also try not to remember most of what I hear. Even though I have to go into the Dream World while going to school here, I don’t want the other world to affect the one I have to live in, you know?” Crystal’s sentences were getting longer, more well-spoken as she eased back into the chair, feeling her muscles relax. She knew Dr. Peterson well after having so many classes with him, so she felt as if she was talking to an old friend rather than an authority figure. Perhaps it was the psychologist in him that knew how to put a person at ease working on her in ways she didn’t even notice.

Crystal noticed that she was touching her ribs and immediately stopped, shoving her hands down on either side of her bashfully. “I’m not physically hurt. It was just the memory…” The girl smiled, a bit pitiful and lovely in the same moment before she fiddled with her hair, pushing it away from her forehead. Figiting quietly for a few moments, she addressed his next question, but the mood in her voice changed to something sad and forlorn rather than terrified. “My .. Mother used to say that dreamcatchers could catch your nightmares and destroy them with the morning sun. It’s little kid stuff, but it was a little comforting to remember.”

Rubbing her thighs under her jeans with both hands, she avoided making eye contact for a moment, with no idea why she was doing it. She was shy about mentioning her parents because she didn’t intend to let their actions hurt her any longer, though sometimes the memories of how it used to be cut her up inside. It had been a topic she had talked about at length with a psychologist her tenth year at Somnium, but something she hadn’t quite gotten over. Seemingly, it was something that she would never fully get over. The girl picked at a spot of lint on her pants leg distractedly until something clicked inside her mind. Then, she thought harder about something he had said and leaned forward in the seat intently. Crystal’s eyes locked on the teacher in front of her, her entire face a mess of frantic curiosity. “Dr. Peterson, are these demons real?”

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[Dr. Robert Peterson]

“There called demons for a reason,” the doctor offered after her listened to was his young client had to say, “They are real in their own world, as real as we are but the laws that govern their world are not quite the same as ours.” He took in a deep breath, “in the dreams you and I have when we are away from here the events in our dreams are purely our subconscious at work but here our minds travel to another place where we are not in as complete control.”

“Your mother was at least partially correct about dream catchers,” Robert offered, “as long as you believe they can catch your bad dreams your mind is far better able to filter such elements out of your dreams and as such they can catch your nightmares and as you awake they fade away just as she suggests.”

Dr. Peterson smiled, “She must have been a wonderful mother to you Crystal, I am happy for you.”

He tried to burry the thoughts of his own less than ideal mother and how she never cared whether his dreams were pleasant or not.

“May I ask Crystal,” he began again, “why you choose not to remember what you hear there? I understand why you don’t want that world to interfere with this one but don’t you think that information, what you hear, might be important information to analyze? It might be of great value in your waking world as well as in the Dream World.”

“I noticed you were touching your side a moment ago,” Robert said letting his brow furrow once again, “are you in any pain still?”

[Crystal Dinaia]

Crystal nodded off the statements about her mother, the troubled situation that had been left there the furthest thing from her mind right now. A wonderful mother wouldn’t have wandered off into oblivion. A wonderful mother would have been the one on the other side of the telephone line this morning when she had woken up. A wonderful mother would have held their family together. Crystal’s assessment was incorrect but she would only learn that when she became a mother herself. It still hadn’t occurred to her that her mother that simply been human, a weak and overly hopeful human at that. She cut her no slack and had never tried to see things from the older woman’s perspective. It was absolutely too hard to do and would take her to places she couldn’t understand.

“The… Dream World still seems like a trap to me. I don’t want my best friends to become my enemies. I don’t want people to change only because they are in a world with no consequences. The words, the statements I hear there.. Sometimes it’s just too easy to recognize people from school, students, teachers, sometimes people let it slip. I don’t want my real life to change because this other skewed world wants it to be this way. I… I don’t want that place to ruin this world for me too. Even if I’m lying to myself, even if I’m denying the truth, I don’t want the evil in that world to leak into the only world I feel safe it. I don’t want the Dream World to destroy Somnium.” Crystal’s voice began escalating as she spoke words she had never told anyone, becoming high pitched until she calmed herself and steadied her voice again. “I don’t know if it makes any sense though… I never asked for that world to violate the rules of this one. I never asked for demons to lure me in, posing as children. I never asked to be molested or killed in a world I’m not even alive in-“ She looked up, her eyes filled with watery tears before her voice caught in her throat. Stopping suddenly, she cleared her throat and apologized, receding into that shell she kept so strongly formed around her emotions. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault, I don’t know why I started yelling.”

Crystal wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and offered the man a watery smile. The senior student hadn’t been actually yelling, her words were merely forceful, tinged with resentment and illogical fear. “I’m not in pain Dr. Peterson…” Crystal sighed softly and dropped her hands to her lap, wringing them red again. “It just scared me and I was remembering. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep again.”

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

“I thought it was a trap too,” he offered gently after hearing what the young woman had to say, “though I think now it might be the opposite way around.”

At first glance his statement would obviously seem odd and quite irrational. Dr. Peterson knew it would have that effect and hope it might catch Crystal a little off guard and make her forget a little about her horrible ordeal. “I actually believe that in spite of how it seems we are the guests of a place that without us humans, dreamers you might say, the demons could not exist.”

He smiled as he crossed his arms and let a sly smirk cross his face, “It is sort of like the question about if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it if it makes a sound. Well, if we are not dreaming do they really exits?”

Robert chuckled, “just trying to make you relax some Crystal,” he offered, “I know exactly what you mean but you will dream again and your dream will be far different than your last one.”

“Just remember one thing,” he stood as he spoke letting the smile fade from his face, “you are in charge of you whether here or in the dream world. You have even more control there than you do here and as such if you can remember you are actually dreaming you can control your responses and how the actions of others effects you.” The counselor took a step towards the window and glanced out at the lush grounds of the school than turned back to his young student, “like your dream your subconscious mind controls it so does your conscious mind have the ability to control your actions and the outcomes of things that happen with the demons.”

It was a controversial point he was making but he truly believed that if you had control of your form you also had control of your actions and to some extent how the actions of the inhabitants of the world could effect you. Though he himself had experienced little if any success in this area he still believed that one could do it and so kept on trying over and over again to accomplish it.

“Crystal,” he asked finally, “have you learned to identify that you are dreaming and if so have you learned to wake yourself up?”