We turn dreams into reality.

I am sitting on the edge of my bunk. The harsh fluorescent lights are buzzing, I can hear them. They are loud, for lights. My room is an average size, I am told. Seven square metres. It is not square in shape though, it is actually a rectangle. I have always felt different, like I am out of sync with the world. Autism, they had said. Autism had given that feeling a name.

Now, at twenty-four, Eli found himself in a place as scarce as the freedom he had just lost.

Elijah Jameson, I sentence you to a month in VR.

VR stands for virtual reality. It is an acronym. I have to wear VR goggles every night. I am not a guinea pig, I am a human being, but "this is an experimental programme." It will “help instil empathy in residents by immersing their subconscious in the lives of others.”

I did not want to hurt anyone, but they did not get out of my way, and I needed to get through.

Did you know that guinea pigs have fourteen toes?

The first night I put the headset on, nothing happened at first. Tiny metal nodes pressed into my temples. I realise now that I fell asleep at some point. That is always how it begins.

The world around him dissolved into darkness before a new scene emerged.

The first night I was in a small, cluttered apartment. The air smelled of stale coffee and a baby was crying. It was loud. Disney’s Frozen was playing on the TV. The phone was ringing. I looked down and saw hands that were not my own. They were smaller with pink-tipped fingernails.

She said, “Mummy why can't I have new shoes? My school shoes are too heavy for athletics and everybody laughs.”

I was so tired. No time to stop before my next shift. I had dried peanut butter on my cheek. Peanut butter should not be there.

In the top right corner of my vision, there had been the word HOPELESSNESS.

For the first time, Eli could see through another's eyes.

The next night I was an elderly man in a nursing home. All I wanted was for the phone to ring. It had not rung in a while. It was too quiet in there. You could hear too much rustling. And snoring. And beep-beep-beeping of machines. I shook my head to try and get the sounds out.

I had trouble shifting positions in my chair. My fingers were crooked. I was tired.

I could not stop watching the phone. Nobody called. I closed my eyes and sunk into my chair.

In the corner of my vision flashed the word LONELINESS.

Night after night brought more of the same.

I could hear a siren in the distance. My chest felt tight, and I was gasping for air. My clothes were heavy with plaster dust. Or maybe it was dirt. Or maybe it was dust from broken bricks. I could not be sure. A small girl was huddled to my left. She was approximately 4 ft tall.

We were hiding. Other people nearby started emerging from behind the rubble of broken buildings. I saw lots of dogs whose ribs were propping up their scabby skin like a tent. My ribs were pressing into my arms. I had sweat on my forehead and it ran into my eyes. Did we need to run?

There was an explosion in the distance. We ran.

I woke up and my hair was slick to my forehead. The dreams were vivid and all-consuming, even once I had seen them before.

Tonight's emotion was the one labelled, FEAR.

I am always tired.

The VR solution puts users in other people's shoes. It builds understanding. It helps link names with feelings. It's portable, and does this all for the low price of $129.99.

I can hear their mutterings at every Thursday morning meeting. The meetings start at 10:00, but more accurately they often start at 10:08.

Marcus was first last week. They say that Marcus is known for his "quick temper and violent outbursts."

He avoids me, but everyone avoids me.

Marcus began to talk and it sounded like a record that was playing too quickly so all the words were double speed. HeSoundedLikeThis.

He spoke of the “abuse he suffered as a child, the hopelessness that led him to crime”, and the "regret that gnawed at him daily." He talked about “putting himself in other people's shoes“, and how he had “come to realise that other people were no longer just faces in a crowd, but individuals with their own stories of pain and survival.” About how “ashamed he was of his actions, and how desperately he wanted to change.“

I watched the team with notepads nodding their heads up and down. Did you know that primates can smile like humans? Other animals can look like they are smiling, but they are not, really.

Marcus never came to another weekly meeting; he was released a few days later. Others followed suit, while Eli remained in the corner with his Rubix Cube, legs jiggling up and down.

I think I am ruining their experiment for guinea pigs. It has been forty-nine days. I know because I have kept a tally. I have had the same seven dreams seven times. Over and over and over I live their lives for a night. I have worn five different pairs of shoes and two pairs of... bare feet. Forty-nine days is longer than a month. I am still here. Dreaming the dreams they want me to dream. HOPELESSNESS. LONELINESS. FEAR. ANGER. EMBARRASSMENT. GUILT. COMPASSION.

Next time I saw my file there were new words: “Autism with Alexithyma." followed by;

TREATMENT DOES NOT WORK ON NEURODIVERGENT BRAINS.

I went back to sit on my bunk.