Dream Reclamation Declaration

Please use this declaration form to circumstantially elucidate your grievance(s). Your claim is important to the Dream Reclamation Council, however, be advised that there is a finite number of dreams. Every child is allotted one dream to maintain for life and will not be granted anything in excess of this limit.

Dream ID Number: 112512

It had long been the case that there was nothing for me in waking. Because of this, I lived at night, in the absence of light or conscious sight, in my dream. As I’d drift to sleep, my mind would travel to a place just for me. I still remember how I felt waiting in the long queue of other eager future dreamers, anticipating what the Operator had in store. Before I knew it, right before my eyes, there it was, far from the coast, on a flat plain surrounded by a mountain range, the lighthouse towered, shining its bright lantern light over a sea of tall grass. I was fortunate, my dream had two Shadows that were my dream facilitators, making the necessary arrangements and adjustments, and ensuring that each night operated smoothly.

Grievance Night 1:

I had been forewarned that the Shadows were going to be away experiencing a paradisiacal dream as part of their facilitator training.

When I entered my dream that night, I knew I would be alone, so I made my way directly to the lighthouse to get settled. It wasn’t long after arriving that I began to hear faint creaking noises–hastily dismissed as the wind. That was until later, when, out of a hole in the wall crawled a large, disheveled rat.

Rats are like leeches, the only differentiating factor being that they select their hosts with a degree of consideration.

I was stunned; I didn’t know what to do, think, or say. I just stared at it, appalled, until it took the liberty of speaking. He told me his name was Torment, before offering an unprovoked, brief, and incomplete “sob story” about how he had left his own dream because he was “taking a break” from his relationship with the Barn Owl. I admittedly failed to see where I was supposed to sympathize.

I politely attempted to find reasons for him to leave, but he calmly declined the prospect of that happening. He went about making himself at home by helping himself to the food in the kitchen and occupying the living room by settling on a chair in front of the television. It was clear that he was going to get his way.

I learned later that Torment and the Barn Owl were in the midst of raising two owlets, named Omelet and Skull, that would be splitting their time between dreams. I don’t know the specifics about these creatures’ genetic makeup, but what I do know is that Omelet got his name because he was accidentally cracked as an egg, and Skull got his name because he was accidentally cracked as a hatchling.

Grievance Night 2: Game 1

I did not know what to expect when I came back, but what I found was certainly not it. The dream was not at all as I had left it. The lighthouse was in complete disarray. The floor was plastered with droppings and pellets of the fecal and feckless variety. Along with the contents of everything that once resided in a drawer, shelf, closet, and cupboard. The walls had been burrowed into to make numerous dwellings for the Owlets. They screamed gaily as they went about their unbridled demolition of the lighthouse. All the while the Rat sat numb and unperturbed in front of the television, as though he was unaware that he was responsible for his offspring. He reserved comments only for when an owlet unconsciously interfered with his deadening.

It was only after the Owlets were successfully asleep in their burrows that Torment asked if I would play a game with him.

We sat adjacent to one another at the far end of an impractically long, wooden table. I’m not sure I retained all the intricacies of the game, but what I remember is as follows:

There were three distinct categories of cards, Devotions, Basics and Intentions. The first, Devotions, were subdivided into ‘Time’ and ‘Energy’. The second, Basics, which were made up of ‘Sustenance’ and ‘Shelter’, required a specific combination of Devotions to purchase them. Similarly, both Devotions and Basics were necessary to obtain cards in the third category, Intentions. These were partitioned into ‘Resiliency’, ‘Hardship’, and ‘Pleasure’. Each player started the game with the same amount of Devotions and was allocated one acquisition and development per turn. The goal was to build the most prosperous Civilization through the possession of Intentions.

Torment devoted his time and energy to acquiring and deploying ‘Hardship’ cards to affectively diminish my gains for his own hollow fulfillment. The ‘Hardship’ cards included such undesirables as disease, invasion, famine, and natural disaster. A real plague wish list. Due to the incessant hardship, I spent my time on the defensive focused on building up resilience. ‘Resiliency’ cards included fortification, repair, defense forces, remedy, and emergency rations.

The game ended when all the ‘Time’ cards were played. The victor of the game was determined not by who sustained the most, but by who managed to retain the most. Judging by that metric, Torment undoubtedly won.

I awoke from the dream as the Rat was screeching at the Owlets for waking up.

Grievance Night 3: Game 2

Experiencing what I had the nights prior, on my way into the dream, I attempted to explain to the Operator all that had transpired up until that date. I described in detail my concern about the presence of the interloper. I confided that the situation was making me uneasy, and that the dream had deteriorated to such an extent as to warrant official intervention. The Operator told me that he would not remove the Rat because “dreams are hard to come by”. I was made to feel irrational and dishonest.

I arrived in my dream later than normal, and the Owlets were asleep. Torment was in his chair sulking. His sulking was suffocating. Eventually, he decided that we would play his game. I tried to tell him I didn’t want to play, but he insisted until I relented. Torment was all too eager to go about inflicting hardship once more.

It was during one of his sadism sprees that I verbalized my fear of his actions. He did not receive this very well. He proceeded to get frighteningly upset. My words had the exact opposite effect as intended. He told me that if I hadn’t set him off, he would not be angry.

Unsurprisingly, for the second night in a row, Torment won his game.

Grievance Night 4, 5,6,7: Game 3

On my way into the dream on the fourth night, I tried, once again, to plead with the Operator, but he refused to even engage me in conversation. When I arrived in the dream it was quiet, because, unbeknownst to me at the time, the Owlets were back with the Barn Owl. I tried to disappear into my room, but the Rat sought me out with the intention of playing his game. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to anger him. I could not see how I could say no. So, I obliged.

Again, the Rat was on the offensive, unrelentingly deploying the use hardship cards with absolute glee. However, this time, as the game was nearing its end, I decided to play a hardship card against the Rat. It was a small crop fire, and all that was needed to resolve it was to play the appropriate resiliency card. But, to my surprise, the Rat did nothing about it, he instead chose to devote his time and energy to playing pleasure cards. It was not as though he was unaware of the fire’s presence, but rather, that he lacked the capability to resolve it as he had never encountered hardship before. The rules stated that any fire left unaddressed for three consecutive turns would have caused such extensive damage as to have reduced the civilization to ruin. As the stack of time cards diminished, so too did the gains of the Rat’s entire game. All from one meagre hardship card.

The Rat was not accustomed to losing, and he did not respond well to it. He seemingly withdrew inward as he sat in total silence for an immeasurable amount of time. Uncertainty filled the room. Eventually, he abandoned the cards and made his way to the lantern room. When I arrived, the bulb had been broken, and in what could be characterized as an attempt at asphyxiation, the Rat was numbing himself from his inconvenience by inhaling the burning acetylene from the lanterns exposed flame. The smell of gas filled the air, consuming the mouth and nose, burning the throat, and irritating the eyes.

I was severely unequipped to handle the situation. I quickly fell into a state of shock. The dream stood still, yet somehow simultaneously managed to progress. At some point, the Operator intervened, placing the entire dream on a three-day hold. The Rat was confined to the lantern room. I was trapped in a state of sleep paralysis. I wanted so desperately to awaken and escape, but I could not.

Sometime later the Shadows returned from paradise intent on restoring the dream to stasis. The timeline is foggy but indelible is the feeling of uneasiness and palpable instability. Uncertainty was all that was certain. What would happen after the hold was over? Would the Rat leave? Where would he go? What would normal look like? The dream had become so disturbed that what once supplied peace now robbed me of it.

The Shadows tried tirelessly, but unsuccessfully, to will a life for the Rat that he himself did not want. During what would be their last attempt at intervention, the Rat threw himself into the open flame of the lighthouse lantern and let out a blood curdling scream as his fur and flesh began to burn. It was not long before the flames took hold of the lighthouse, decimating all that it touched. Smoke and ash filled the once bright sky, turning it black.

Without the light provided by the lighthouse, the Shadows vanished. My entire dream burned to the ground in a matter of mere moments. Torment had not just taken himself, but everything else along with him.

Dear council, my dream is dead. My nights have become as dark as my days. I beg this body to please restore my dream.