Dream Eater

Michelle huffed angrily as she noticed that her dream catcher had fallen off the ceiling again. She checked under the bed, behind the nightstand, and even in the bathroom in case it had rolled inside. Nothing. No dream catcher and no sign of where it had gone. It wasn't as if it was uncommon or anything. Michelle had been replacing dream catchers for most of her life, but the older she got, the more annoying it became.

Michelle went to the closet and opened the box labeled "decore," sorting through the dozen or so dream catchers she had inside. This happened sometimes. It had happened since she was young, and she'd gotten used to just replacing them. She picked up a frilly pink one, the leather around the outer ring dyed to match, but put it back. That one had been a gift, and she didn't want to waste it. She settled on a cheap neon blue one from the gas station and attached it to the hook over her bed.

She hated to buy more, but the alternative was worse.

The alternative was something she hadn't experienced since she was extremely young.

Michelle's mother had been fiercely spiritual. Treena Jones had stood out like a sore thumb among a community of strict Baptists and Methodists. Her mother had done a little of this and a little of that to get by, and Michelle had a tumultuous childhood. They lived in a little house that had been owned by her Grandmother, and Michelle couldn't remember a time when her Grandmother had come to the house for longer than a few minutes. She'd asked her why she never came over once, Michelle spending the night while her mother went to a concert with some friends. She and her Grandmother had been shelling peas on the porch of Grandma's house on the other end of the block, and her Grandmother's scowl had been hard to miss at the time.

"I hate to see what your mother has done to that house. It offends my senses, but, God forgive me, I won't cast her out. She is free to live her life however she likes, but that doesn't mean I have to let her rub it in my face."

Her mother had an odd hodge podge of beliefs, and Michelle could remember all of them jostling together in the living room of their small house. Treena, though her grandmother always called her mother Grace, was an old Hippie, and she had been taken with Paganism and Druidic ideas as she followed her friends on the road before Michelle was born. She had also liked the ideas of Buddhism, Taoism, and several other eastern spiritualities. As such, the living room was often crowded with altars, statues, and other paraphernalia for whatever ritual or rite her mother was working on.

The dream catchers were part of it.

Michelle had always suffered from terrible nightmares, and her mother had hung the dream catcher over her bed since she was very young. Her mother had also noticed the rate at which they disappeared as well, but if she knew why they did, she never said. To Michelle, it was always just a fun mystery that never seemed to have an answer, like where the socks went that they lost in the dryer.

Michelle hung the new dream catcher over her bed and got back to getting ready for work.

She had bills to pay and, inevitably, more dream catchers to buy.

She found herself thinking back on the mystery of where they all went as her work day slowed down later. She tried to puzzle out where they might be disappearing to, but ultimately came up with nothing. As a kid, she had tried everything. She had nailed them to the ceiling, she had set up little nets to catch them if they fell, and she had gone so far as to set up a little camera one night to see if someone was taking them, but the recording had stopped at eleven when it ran out of tape. She hadn't really thought about it in a long time, but the more she pondered it, the more curious she became.

She made a mental note to set up her phone camera tonight and see if she could find out what was taking them.

The phone wouldn't run out of tape, unlike her video camera, and maybe she could figure out what was going on.

Four nights later, and three deleted eight-hour recordings, Michelle woke up to find her phone knocked over and her neon blue dream catcher missing.

The video that she scrolled through that day at lunch was less than helpful. The phone had recorded the dream catcher until about two am, seeing nothing but dustmotes and the circle of feathers and string as it hung from the ceiling. Then at 2:07, Michelle heard a soft sound like a latch being slid and the window whisper open. A shadow passed over the camera, which was knocked over a few seconds later. No matter how many times she rewound the footage, Michelle couldn't tell what had knocked the camera over. It recorded nothing else but darkness for the rest of the night until she picked it up in the morning and turned it off.

That gave her something new to worry about. Who was stealing her dream catchers, and why? Surely it couldn't be the same person all these years? She'd been losing dream catchers since she was three years old. She had moved two states away from her childhood home and moved into three different dorm rooms before settling into this apartment. It couldn't be the same person, but then who was it?

As she sat in traffic that day, she felt moved to call her mother, and as she dialed the number, she felt silly. What did she think her mother was going to be able to do? Her mother had been a rolling stone ever since Michelle had left home three years ago, and the notion that she'd even reach her was laughable. Treena had been the big push for her to accept the offer from Tennessee State College. She'd sat her daughter down, pulling her away as she studied for her finals so she didn't lose her acceptance by bombing. She told her that she had been sent a spiritual vision and that it was time for her to travel. This "vision" didn't have anything to do with her latest man, Bo, and had everything to do with her wanderlust needing to be satiated.

"I'll stick around long enough for you to graduate, but after that, I'm hitting the road and giving the keys back to your Grandmother."

Michelle hadn't talked to her much in those three years, but she thought she might have some insight into this.

She picked up on the fourth ring, and Michelle could hear soft guitar music and the sounds of laughter in the background.

"Hello, sweety. What's the occasion? I haven't heard from you in months."

"I need to ask you about something. I'm a little scared and it's kind of important."

Michelle heard the sounds quiet as her mother walked away or stepped into someplace, "What's wrong, Micha? Do you need a reading or some crystal healing? I can send you vibrations through the phone if you," but Michelle cut her off before she could get going.

If she let Treena get rolling, they'd be on the phone all night.

"I need to know about the dream catchers. Why do they go missing?"

There was a long pause, and Michelle was worried that she had lost her.

"Mom?"

"Are you still hanging them?" she said, and it was not the voice she was used to hearing from her mother.

It was low and scared, at odds with her mother's usual gregarious nature.

"Of course, but I've been thinking a lot about them lately, and I just,"

"Don't stop hanging them, Michelle. I know it's a pain, but trust me, they help."

"But why do I,"

"JUST," she paused as she got control of herself, "just keep hanging them. If you need some more, I'll send you some. I know a guy out here who makes them, and he owes me a favor. I'll get you some in bulk, but please just hang them and stay safe."

"Safe from what?" Michelle asked, getting frustrated. Her mother had never been this serious, and it scared her more than the video had. Her mother clearly knew something, but she wouldn't tell her. She had never been good at keeping secrets, and Michelle didn't understand why she wanted to start now.

"I gotta go, just," she seemed to gather thought as she tried to find a way to explain, "Just keep hanging them, and stay safe. I love you, Michelle. I'll send you some dream catchers soon so you don't run out."

Then she hung up on her and Michelle was left confused and agitated.

She thought about what her mother had told her the rest of that night. The way she had acted scared Michelle, and the transition from her mother's nickname to her real name made it all the more jarring. Her mother had started calling her Micha when she was a kid, thinking it sounded more earthy, and Michelle hadn't heard her use her real name in a while.

She had started to hang a new dream catcher but paused midway through tying it to the hook up there. The more she thought about it, the more she saw no reason to hang a new one. She had bad dreams when she was younger, but it was something that she hadn't experienced in a long time. Who's to say that the dream catchers had done anything? She froze there, unsure whether to proceed, and finally just tossed the dream catcher onto the nightstand.

She'd sleep without it tonight and see what happened.

Worst-case scenario, she had bad dreams that night and would hang a new one tomorrow.

It took some time to get to sleep, but Michelle was sure that tonight would be as fine as all the others before it.

When she woke up midway through the night, she was glad.

The dream she'd been having had been terrifying, but it was nothing compared to what she had woken up to.

Her dream had been incredibly dark. She had woken up in a hellscape, the sky constantly burning as the rain came down in runners of flame. She was lying naked on the hard stone, her body pulled close as she shuddered. All around her, there were creatures gathering, their growls like thunder. She closed her eyes, trying to wake up, but it never seemed to happen. She was stuck, waiting for these creatures to come in on her, and as the first lunged it, its boney mouth snapping, she came awake like a deep sea diver from the depths.

She thought for a moment that she was still sleeping until she felt the pressure in her ear.

She had never felt anything so intimate, so violating, and the feeling made her shudder in utter terror.

She swiveled her gaze to the left and saw something large and pale crouching beside the bed. It looked like a giant white bug, its body pale and wrinkled. It was hunkered below the side of the bed like a child waiting to ask a question. Its bald head gleamed in the moonlight, and Michelle realized her window was open again.

The long red tongue that slid over the edge of the bed and into her ear was as hard to miss as the pale horror kneeling there.

The tongue bulged her eardrum, making her head feel far fuller than she was used to. It felt like it might be going all the way to her brain. What was he doing? Was he trying to eat her? What was going on?

The tongue slid soupily out of her ear as his piss-yellow eyes grew large.

He had noticed she was awake.

As it reached its full height, Michelle realized how big it was. Seven feet tall, each arm tipped six long, dexterous claws. As it loomed over her, Michelle worried that it would finish what it started. Its long tongue slid over its thin lips, and they turned up at the corners as it took her in.

"Don't worry," It whispered, its voice high and waspish, "I need you alive, so I can continue to feed. I must admit, it's nice to get a taste from the source again. I usually get your tasty floating snacks, but today," its tongue slid over its lips again, its face a rapture as he remembered the flavor, "I got a real treat from the old country."

It climbed nimbly out her window, its body groaning as his bones leaned into the twists, but Michelle felt utterly paralyzed. She didn't understand what was going on. What in the world was that? Had that been what her mother was trying to protect her from? Had she known about it? Why hadn't she just told her?

Michelle pulled her knees to her chest, the terror sending shudders up her frame, and as the birds began to chirp and the sun sent pink fingers over the edge of her window, she finally reached for her phone.

Her mother sounded sleepy when she picked up, but it sounded like she might have been expecting the call, "So you saw it, then?"

Michelle couldn't answer right away, managing only a small grunt of acknowledgment.

"Did it hurt you? It never did when you were a child, but"

"You knew it would come after me, then."

It wasn't a question.

"When you were young, you started having night terrors. You would wake me up every night with the most terribly screaming, and I didn't know what to do. Worse than that, you drew pictures of the dreams the next day. Flaming skies, terrible creatures, the bleakest places imaginable. I didn't know what to do. One night, I woke up before you started screaming and felt like I needed to go make sure you were okay. That was when I saw it. He was leaning down over you, his tongue coming out of your ear, and he seemed to be drinking something out of your head. He ran when he saw me, bending out of the window like a serpent, and that only deepened my confusion. That was when I tried the dream catcher. It was on a whim, I didn't know whether it would work, but when it stopped your night terrors, I thought that maybe it kept him away. When they started disappearing, I figured out what was going on."

She stopped, collecting her thoughts, and Michelle could hear the sounds of crickets making music in the background. Wherever she was, it was someplace green. Michelle could almost see the trees and feel the breeze, and she suddenly wished she was with her. Was this why mom had traveled so much? Was she running from something too? Michelle suddenly realized how little she knew about her mother and wished she had taken the time to learn more.

"The dream catchers don't do anything besides what they're supposed to do. They take your dreams and store them inside those strings. Whatever these things are, and I mean things because I don't believe there's just one of them, they like eating your nightmares. The dream catchers distract them and give them something else to munch on. That's why you need to keep hanging them."

She wanted to ask more, wanted to know if her mom had any idea about the place she saw in her dreams, but instead, she reached for the dream catcher on her nightstand.

"I'll be in touch," Michelle whispered, hanging up as she stood on the bed to attach it to the ceiling.

She wouldn't feel safe again until it was back in place.

In truth, Michelle wondered if she would ever feel safe again?