Dream's End

When I was younger, I used to dream about a little boy. In my dreams we would run and play, visiting places and seeing things that I could never imagine. It would not happen every night and I remember looking forward to those nights that I dreamed of my friend. It finally occurred to me though once when waking up and being lucky enough to recall my dream that I didn't even know who this boy was, he just was. One night I asked him, "Who are you."

He smiled at me and put his hand on my shoulder. I did not have any foreboding feelings or feel threatened when he did this. On the contrary, I felt relieved and calm, as if all worry and fear was being pulled out of me. He then said something that instantly took away those feelings of peace and tranquility that he had instilled in me. "I am the one who dreams. This is my world and you are one of my favorites. One day I will wake up and all this will stop being, but until that time please do your best to enjoy life."

I woke up in a cold sweat that night, screaming for my parents. I haven't dreamed of that little boy since but I remembered his words for years, always on my mind, plaguing my thoughts until one day they stopped. I haven't thought about that boy for quite a while and don't know why I was remembering him now. Probably just my mind pulling things out from the archives for who knows what reason. I forgot about it and went about my day putting the horrible memory from my mind.

Walking down the hall I pass by my son's door and see that's it's cracked open slightly. I peek inside to see him just sitting on the edge of his bed. I open the door more to see him just staring at the wall, no game device or book in his hands or on the bed next to him and TV off.

"Up from your nap champ," I say to him

"Yeah." Is his only response, with no emotion.

Thinking he must still be tired or had a bad dream I ask him, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah dad, just waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For the dream to end," he says turning his head to me and smiles.

"What dream son. You're awake now."

"Not my dream dad, the dreamer's." He says continuing to smile as if I knew what he was talking about, but I didn't though there was a nagging whisper in the back of my mind.

"Who is the dreamer son?" Concern starts to rise as this doesn't feel like an imaginary friend, the nagging becoming stronger.

He turns away from me and stares at the wall, "the dreamer is the one that is dreaming all of this. It's all in his mind he said. He came to me in my dreams and said that his nap is almost over and he'll be waking up soon." He says all this like its common knowledge and something he shouldn't have to explain to me, an adult, but I had no words for what he just said. I stared dumbfounded with goosebumps prickling on my arms. He turns to me and smiles again and continues, "He also wanted to say that he's sorry. Sorry for all the pain and suffering, the wars and the deaths. He didn't mean to cause those things but he got curious and started thinking and they just came to be."

I try to speak but am not able to for several minutes. The nagging in the back of my mind going from a whisper to a full shout, opening the flood gates of memory. Finally able to form a complete thought I ask, "Did he say when his dream would end?"

"At 4." He replies. I turn to the clock on his nightstand next to his bed and read the time, 3:58 pm. Unable to think I just stare at the clock. "Don't worry daddy, he told me we won't feel any pain and hopefully he will dream of us again."

I feel like my legs are about to give out from under me so I sit on my son's bed with him and look toward the window to see the world outside. It seems peaceful with the sun beginning to set. Children could be seen down the street playing with parents on their lawns and porches watching over them. If my son was right, how could such a peaceful sight end with no warning or notice? I wanted to think that it was just a horrible dream my son had or a game he was playing but something nagged at me saying that it wasn't.

I look to the clock as it turns from 3:58 to 3:59. Then I start to hear something. It isn't loud at first but a low rumble. I watch out the window as parents and children stop what they are doing to try and investigate the sound. As the sound grows louder everything starts to shake and everyone I can see starts to panic. The shaking and the rumble get so intense I see houses start to fall apart and can no longer hear the screaming, but I can feel my son hug me. I look towards him and see him mouth words. Even though my eardrums have ruptured I hear him say, "I love you, daddy." I hug him back and say that I love him as the time rolls over from 3:59 to 4:00