at once. Car horns honk loudly. Exhaust putters out of mufflers. The chatter of a thousand different conversations tears at my eardrums. Headlights from cars flash beams of white-hot light into my eyes. The smell of diesel exhaust from a passing delivery truck takes my breath away. I feel dizzy and nauseous as my senses envelop me.
The remainders of the rocks wane and I’m completely a part of this new world with people rushing by on every side of me. As I catch my breath and get a grip on my surroundings, I lose my balance and accidentally trip over a man watching a street performer. He didn’t notice, but I apologize anyway.
The buildings on the street look familiar, yet not somehow. They stand tall and strong, but something within them is weak and unsteady. The windows feel like watchful eyes keeping track of my every move. The panes of glass appear fluid, not solid like they should. Business names cover the buildings around me, but none of them are legible. The letters are written in English, but seem backward and jumbled. Something isn’t right. My stomach twists in a knot as the realization sits in that danger is lurking. I have to get out of here, but I have to find Zoë first. A quick glance around the crowd doesn’t help me at all. She isn't anywhere to be seen.
I take notice of a young girl peeking out from behind a woman watching the street performer. She appears to eye me suspiciously. If the girl can see me, she is a dreamwalker like I am. Regular people can’t see dreamwalkers while they are walking.
I give her an awkward smile in hopes of eliciting a response from her. She quickly moves behind the woman and out of my line of sight. She hid from me. She’s definitely a dreamwalker. Dreamwalkers don’t just randomly cross paths with other dreamwalkers. There has to be some sort of real-world connection for that to happen. Or there could be something more sinister behind it. How did we end up on the same walk? I am intrigued yet leery at the same time.
If she is anything like me, she has been taught to stay clear of people she doesn't know, who are able to see her, while she is on a walk. If she is something more sinister, I have to stay away from her.
The more I concentrate on the girl, the more muddled and foggy my thoughts begin to feel. Panic hints at my emotions. I have to get out of here. I don’t want to leave Zoë, but I need to trust that she knows to leave when things don’t seem right.
I was lucky to be born into a family where dreamwalking is genetic. My father is a dreamwalker as was his mother and her mother. They taught me everything I know about staying safe on my walks. Zoë is the only one in her family who is a walker. She didn’t have anybody to teach her about walking like I did, so I stepped in and took the job.
My father has long warned me to immediately change my walk if I no longer appear to be in control of it. While it’s very rare to encounter another dreamwalker, especially one you don’t know in real life, it can happen. The vast majority of us are completely harmless, but there are a select few who can cause immeasurable destruction. They are the dark walkers.
The place that surrounds me tonight is not of my making. It feels wrong in every way that it can. There is a darkness that hangs heavily over it.
Normally, I center my thoughts and picture exactly where it is I want to go. Within seconds, I am there. I can create virtually anything I can imagine and if I choose to do so, I can share my experience with another dreamwalker. The most important part is that I am always in control of my surroundings and my thoughts.
I almost always spend my dreamwalks with Zoë, my best friend of twelve years. Tonight, we have been thrown off course somehow, and not in a good way.
My thoughts grow increasingly dismal and my mood continues to darken. I fight against the haze of it, as if it were a sleeping pill trying to pull me under. I have to get out of here.
I close my eyes and desperately try to shut out the noises of the busy city street in preparation for