Good Intentions

Dreams have always been a method of escape for me. God knows now more than ever I need that reprieve. Lately, my living world has been nothing short of a nightmare.

My name is Charlotte. I own a small antique shop. It's brought much happiness to my life, but hasn't brought much income. I'm a single mom of twin girls, that's where part of my struggle lies.

As if paying for twins to go to college on one income wasn't enough, I'm about to lose my beautiful white Victorian house.

I'm recently single. My husband left with no real explanation, just a note saying people and desires change. He left me with the home, which I'm starting to think is more of a burden than blessing.

I escape during the few hours of sleep that I get every night. Ever since I was little I've had the most fantastic, realistic dreams.

Every one of these dreams is recorded in a little white notebook. In gold cursive on the front of my white notebook it reads:

When Our Actions Are Based On

Good Intentions

Our Soul Has No Regrets

Lately, even my normally pleasant dreams haven't been enough of a distraction from the real world. I've recently learned of something called lucid dreaming. This would be a stronger fix from reality.

In a lucid dream, if something is happening that you don't like, you simply will it to happen some other way. The biggest rule of lucid dreaming is you have to find an anchor, something to prove you're in the real world.

My first lucid dream started out differently than I had planned.

I was standing in front of my big white house on the sidewalk. It was dark and the only light illuminating anything came from flickering streetlights. Everything was black and white, like an episode of an old TV show. I decided for my first lucid dream I would just walk through my neighborhood and control things I already knew.

I walked past a house and made the door open and close with no one around. It was working! I decided to try something a little more difficult and began to levitate, willing myself to go higher and higher.

I found myself smiling as I slowly floated over rooftops. I haven't felt this free In a long time.

That's when I looked down and saw him.

I didn't create the person standing below me. I don't recognize him either. I slowly return to the ground to see him up close. He's around my age, mid-forties, standing alone in the street. He's dressed casually in jeans and a plain T-shirt.

There is one feature about him which is oddly unnerving. His eyes are green. This wouldn't typically be concerning, except everything in my dream is black and white. Even my own reddish hair color is a muted, dull shade of gray.

"Hello, Charlotte," he says with a smile.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, you can call me Aiden," he replies. The whole time he's got a smile edging toward a smirk. I'm becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "I'm your guide in the dream world. I am here to help you navigate your subconscious. You can trust me."

I feel some real-world feelings leaking into my dream. All I want is to be left alone.

"Thanks for your help but I'm fine, really," I say. He gives a slight laugh and brushes off my rebuff.

"Before you decide against my help, I have one request," he says. "Pick up that penny there."

I look to where he points on the ground and there sits a single coin.

He's asking me to do such a simple, but odd task. A bit sarcastically, I laugh and pick up the coin. I toss it at him.

"There's your coin, I'm really not interested in your help," I begin to walk away.

"I'll see you soon Charlotte!" He calls after me.

***

My alarm goes off before I can say anything in response. I turn over and reach for my dream journal, my anchor, to record my the first lucid dream. As I touch it, I'm reminded that I'm here in the waking world. I flip to a clean page and hear a small tinkling noise at my feet.

I look down and see a shiny, new penny.

For a long time I stand there staring at it. A thousand thoughts pass through my mind, rationally explaining how that penny got there. I shake my head and decide to brush it off.

Every morning I call my girls and see how things are going at college. They are getting ready to take their final exams in a few weeks. For them, this means test anxiety. For me, it means financial anxiety. The loans only cover so much, and I'm running out of time and money.

"Hi mom!" Amy says over the phone. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm doing well, baby. You and Mia ready for finals coming up?"

"I think so? Mia has been worrying about Anthro but I've been helping her with it. I don't get why she just doesn't get it. It's really not that hard"

"Well you guys study hard..." I trail off and Amy can hear the hesitation in my voice.

"Mom what's wrong?" Amy asks.

"So, uh, Amy... Listen, I know you and Mia are doing well in school and trying very hard. You know things have been hard since your dad left," I stumble. I'm just talking and making things worse. "I don't know how I'm going to pay for you guys to keep going to college, Amy. I have been trying so hard, more than you can imagine," my voice cracks.

"Amy, is that mom?" I hear Mia yell over the phone.

"Hey mom I have to go, I've got to get ready for class. I'll talk to you later," Amy says. She's always been like this, runs away from her problems. I guess you could say she's like her mom that way.

I wipe the tear from my cheek and start my day. I can't wait for it to be over already.

***

I find myself standing in the middle of Main Street of my small town. Everything is still black and white.

"Good evening, Charlotte," Aiden says casually. "Glad to see you again."

"What do you want?" I ask.

"I am your dream guide. I'm here to provide perspective between this world and the waking one. Let me help you."

"First I want you to answer me. Last night you had me pick up a penny for absolutely no reason. Of all the random tasks, you told me to do that specific thing. Then I wake up to find a penny in my dream journal. How did it get there?" I ask.

"It's easier for me to show you than explain. Follow me," Aiden says as he starts walking.

A few yards away I see the town bank, relatively close to my antique shop. This dream is very detailed and true to reality. Aiden walks through the front door without opening them. I will myself to do the same.

He continues to walk through the bank. The lights are off and everything is still. He holds his hand up to the vault, signaling me.

"Test your suspicions, was that penny a coincedence? If not, this sure would solve your waking problems," he smiles encouragingly. "It's a dream. You're not physically even here. the cameras see nothing right now." His green eyes pierce through me. "Go ahead," he says.

I reach forward, desiring my arm to phase through the solid metal vault door. It slides through easily. I grab at bundles of bills. I pull out one after another. I reach in and grab one last bundle, right as I hear an alarm go off.

***

I bolt straight up from my bed. The alarm I hear is my own next to the bed. I look to my night stand and see the clock sitting next to my anchor. My journal sits open, $20,000 stacked neatly atop.

I stumble out of bed and grab the bundles to make sure they are real. I take the bills out of their straps and throw them like confetti.

"Thank you Aiden!" I yell. Then I freeze, a realization hitting me. I scramble to find the remote in my bedroom and turn on the news.

"This money has to be something I created right? There's no way this could have possibly come fro-" I'm cut off by the broadcaster giving the news of an overnight bank robbery. They have no photographs to release to the public, no leads.

I decide I need to take the day off and sleep in.

***

"Back so soon?" Aiden says strolling up to me in front of the bank. He's sporting his usual smile.

"Cut the crap, who are you?" I demand.

"Well I'm just a product of your subconscious desires. A figment of your imagination." He smiles. "Aren't you happy? $20,000 covers tuition for next semester. I have an even better opportunity today. this one would take care of the house." His smile widens and reaches his awful green eyes.

"What do I have to do?" I ask. He beacons me to follow him.

We walk in the opposite direction of my house. As we continue, I notice things get increasingly blurry, almost like an old TV going fuzzy with static. We eventually reach a home, completely black. It whizzes and pops with static. The entire house appears to move and I can't get a clear picture of it.

"This person is a thief, a criminal who isn't grateful for what they have. They take more, never being satisfied with what they possess. Since they are so ungrateful, it's just to take what they see as a burden," Aiden explains. He gestures to the home. I feel hypnotized, moving forward without my own consent. All I can think of is taking care of my house, just like Aiden said. This person wasn't grateful for what they had. They won't care when I take it from them.

"You will have to do this job alone. I will stay downstairs and wait for you," he says, smiling. "I have my own job to do."

I walk up seemingly endless stairs and reach a hallway. Instinctively, I know which door to enter. It's so blurry I can barely see, but it looks like a dark reflection of my own room. I find a safe in the closet and will it to fly open. There's nothing inside.

That's when I smell the smoke.

***

I'm awoke to someone smashing my window and I choke trying to scream. A Man in a mask tells me to come on, follow him, get out. I smell the smoke in reality now, I see it too. My room is engulfed. I follow the masked firefighter out through the window.

Outside I'm treated by the first responders. I feel a sense of resignation. No matter how hard they try, the flames grow more hungry. The fire whizzes and pops this side of a dream.

The fire burns all day and night, I am exhausted but refuse to sleep.

Eventually there is nothing but a pile of ash. One firefighter retrieves the only remaining memento which didn't burn, an anchor.

I brush my hand across the top of the black notebook and the color doesn't change. I must still be dreaming. My white notebook, my anchor to the real world, is gone. The gold writing on the cover is too, and ash takes its place. The ghostly outline of the words “Good Intentions” remain. I toss the book back into the pile of ash and it falls open. Two green eyes are printed on the pages, contrasting the black and white nightmare around them.