Dreaming Reality - Chapter 1

"Tell me about this dream, Scout.  In as much detail as you can," said the man sitting in the plush leather chair beside the young woman.  Laying a hand against her eyes, she nodded, if a bit resentful for being asked for the thousandth time.  She shifted from the ottoman she was laying on in the leather and cherry wood covered office.

"I'm standing in a pile of…what looks like junk metal.  The sky's black."

"Let me stop you there.  What do you mean, black?  Overcast?  Night, perhaps?"

"No.  It's black, Doc.  Just…black.  Like, huge pitch black sheets of clouds covering any chance of sunlight.  The only way I can see was through the little light that came off these…faint orbs.  Kind of looked like LED lights, y'know?  But no covering.  Like fireflies."

The therapist scribbled something onto the notepad he held in his grasp, murmuring an odd 'hm', or 'go on'.  Noticing she had stopped, he looked down at her. "Continue."

Having been analyzing the images in her head, Scout stirred at the sound of her therapist's voice.  "Oh…sorry.  I was just...thinking about it.  It comes and goes, like it's locked in my head somehow. Sounds weird, I know.  But it's almost like something doesn't want me to remember. And what's even more odd is that when I dream, it feels more real than when I'm awake." Another pause. "I must sound like a nut case.  But I suppose that's why I'm here."

"Nonsense, Scout.  There is no such thing as a nut case.  Just people who lose their way.  That is why you're here.  Now.  When you're ready, continue." The man looked down at the young woman lying on the couch, tapping his pen absently on his notepad.

After gaining her bearings once more, she clasped her hands and laid them on her stomach.  "I start walking toward the lights. Okay. Walking...walking...I start wading through the shin high metal waste around me, and..." She stopped, closing her eyes to remember.

"It's okay. Take your time."

Opening her mouth to speak again, Scout furrowed her brow at the slight twinge of pain she felt in her forehead. She reached up and rubbed at it slightly. "Sorry. I think I'm getting a bit of a headache."

"Have you been taking your pills?" He asked, almost condescendingly.

"Of course I have," the young woman retorted, hiding the fact that she was lying. She hated the idea of pills controlling her.

Having not detected her lie, the psychiatrist nodded absently. "Alright. Well, it looks like our time is up for today. Gather up your thoughts for our next session, and we'll talk then."

Getting up from the ottoman, she grabbed her messenger bag and saluted lazily toward her shrink before heading out of the office.

- - - - -

Walking down the bustling Yonge Street sidewalk during rush hour in down town Toronto, Scout kept very much to herself, hiding her face inside the wooly interior of her coat. This winter had been particularily unforgiving. This much was evident to everyone.

Watching the small puffs of vapour seeping from the scarf around her chin, her eye was drawn to a situation going on at the crosswalk she was walking toward. There was an accident, alright. Two cars had carreened into one another at the intersection. Damn ice, thought Scout, venturing forward.

Over the crowd, Scout could spot a man being pulled from his crumpled car, blood running down his cheek. What confused her was that it wasn't a paramedic pulling the injured driver out, it was a man in a suit. And sunglasses. In the winter, buddy? Do you really need those shades? Scout found herself saying in her mind. Once over that, she watched one of the 3 men there in suits look in her direction, a monotonous expression on his face. She couldn't see his eyes, but she felt them. On her.

Scout felt a chill go down her spine that couldn't be blamed on the icy breeze that swept the city streets, and she shivered. Feeling it was best she left, she walked from the place she stood, deciding to take an alternate route home. Sure, it wasn't on the main roads, but she had taken the alleys before. Nothing had happened.

As she walked home, the image of the man who had locked his gaze on her stayed in her mind. There was something eerie about him. Something she couldn't place her finger on. The men in the suits just didn't sit well with her.

Putting her earphones over her reddened ears again, the young woman reached in her pocket and turned up her mp3 player, bobbing her head to the progressive rock beat. Scout felt slightly more relaxed as she walked through the second last alleyway.

Of course, when one is most calm and out of one's element, the worst damage can happen. It was then, in the distance, that Scout was met with the same glacial, almost mechanical scowl as she had seen moments before. Stopping dead in her tracks, Scout watched the man absently, before lowering her gaze to the ground again, going to walk by him.

The man cleared his throat as the woman approached, stepping in her path. "Excuse me, miss. Could you point me in the direction of the Horseshoe Tavern?" He seemed to reach down from his ear slightly.

"I uhm...I actually need to get home...Sorry," she said, moving past him. Surprised that he let her by, she turned half way once she was a couple steps away, to see the man looking to her over his shoulder. She turned around and continued walking down the alleyway, slightly faster. Never taking this route again. Never ever ever.

- - - - -

"She's one of the few potential's we've seen in this city. We'll have to keep an eye on her. Put her on the top of the list." The agent lowered his hand from his earpiece, watching the woman walk faster down the alleyway. Two agents walked up from behind him and, without so much as a glance, Smith muttered, "Follow her."

Without an audible acknowledgement, the two agents split off into two directions, in order to gain stealthy vantage points for surveillance.

Smith breathed a short, mirthless chuckle. "Nothing is a challenge anymore."