#WritingWonders 5.9 — Dream Being Alive, of Laughter by R.S.

I had a weird dream where I was asked a question: "When was the last time you laughed? Why?" In the dream, I realized I was awake, but in someone's mind. I saw a void filled with memories of my life. Like flying through clouds.

People I knew or fought...

Places I'd run away from...

Me winning the mixed magical martial arts championship by making someone fly into a pole...

The first time I knocked someone unconscious: my butler's friend who had caught me running away. I stole his money and clothes, and escaped...

The time as a little girl, when I'd helped clean up after a hurricane and Director Rainy Days slept over at the manor house against my express orders—the first time I'd felt my agency as a person violated...

The time I'd been ambushed by a rival faction in the mob. But for a broken toy and the outraged scream of the little boy who owned it, I'd have had my skull cudgeled in.

I closed my eyes. Too much!

All this made me feel small, insignificant. Seeing the events of my life float by, I realized then that I was a figment of someone's imagination, a mere fabulation.

I didn't exist at all, nor was I even alive.

Yet, I knew this: I was special all the same.

I answered that question that I didn't really remember. I told the void that I knew if I let myself start laughing, I'd start crying instead. Opening my eyes again, I saw myself discovering daemon fire. As the cloud of memory drifted by, I saw the horror of the minutes before and the horror of me saving myself, of what I done to my assailant. Fire that could burn in a rainstorm, imagine that. I should have cried, screamed. I'd fault nobody who did. I didn't break. I'd laughed that day—but knew if I laughed now I would break.

I warned my fabulist... He, or she..? I chose she. I warned her that she didn't want to clean up that mess. I started to tell her that she didn't know all I'd seen—but, of course, more cloud memories gathered. She knew. She'd created me! I told her I'd rather stick with being happy with keeping people safe and preventing stupid from happening—and call it a win when if afterward she'd simply give me time alone to read.

I sensed a smile in the void as she said, "Every child grows up,"

My fabulist assured me that I'd soon break, but in a good way. She hinted that I'd soon learn to open up my heart to others, something really absurd, right? And, with that lesson well learned, with that knowledge, I find love, too.

Love?

Find love? Me?

Weird. Am I right? I can't even define love, let alone trust the concept of friendship!

I started laughing...

And woke from the nightmare in a sweat. My stars! What a horrible thought, existing only in somebody's mind. What if they got bored? Or distracted? Or died!? I hugged myself shivering, then rolled out of bed to make myself a pot of hot tea.

[copyright retained by author]

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