I was a […] young boy around ten or twelve years of age. I escaped from my house and was running down the street, my arms stretched out at my sides like a bird. […] I was free as I sprinted down that pavement. I tried several times to fly, and after the third try […] I succeeded and rose into the sky, everything below me becoming tiny like toys.
I flew on, as though I were Superman – I might even have had a cape. I flew over a place of great mountains […] that were studded with jewels and whose earth sparkled with tiny diamonds. Some of these mountains had caves that also glowed with multi-colored gems, lighting their interiors with an ethereal glow. One of these caves was very shallow – almost like a large dent on the side of a mountain. This cave was very high, set in one of the largest, tallest mountain peaks. Despite how shallow it was, it contained a lot of jewels – its floor was covered with stones that [..] shone […] and its stalagmites and stalactites were studded with rubies and diamonds.
It was here […] that a princess was imprisoned, tied to the sparkling cave walls. It was odd, because I think she might have been me, since it was through her eyes that I saw the interior of the cave and beyond the mouth of the cave to the jeweled mountains outside. At the same time, I was still the young boy, and I was so happy as I flew on to save this young princess who was no older than I – a princess that I knew was my true love.
It was the wee hours just before the break of dawn when I woke […] and sat up in bed in that transparent darkness that fills one’s room in the early mornings. It was exactly the way I wake up every morning – to that exact same lighting (or lack thereof) – before getting ready […]. I got out of bed and saw that my body was still lying down beneath the covers. I felt […] light and weightless as I floated to the guest room where I saw my mother sitting on the bed, crying. I was floating above the ground in front of her, but she didn’t see me. I called out to her several times before she turned to me – finally seeing me hovering in the air – and gasped.
And then it was as if I was being sucked into the dawning sky – through the ceiling and through the roof – and I felt free but, oddly […] hindered as I flew amongst the gray and deep blue clouds. I remember liking […] flying through the air, but then I became sad because I never got to do all the things that I had wanted […].
And then I had a […] passing thought that this must all be just a dream and I woke up, sitting up in bed in that familiar darkness just before dawn […]. I was so relieved that it was all just a dream – that, in fact, I hadn’t really died. I got out of bed, glad to see that I hadn’t left my body behind, and proceeded with my morning routine. I noticed that the light in my bathroom was on and as I walked in, I saw that my mother was in my bathroom, standing at the sink counter. My makeup was spread […] in a mess in front of her.
“I’m sorry […],” she said to me, her face expressionless as she stared straight ahead into the mirror. “But I’m going to have to kill you.”
I pretended like I was okay with it, coming forward cheerfully and putting the makeup away. But deep down I was crushed and afraid. […]
My mom walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom where she sat down in the darkness at the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry,” she said […]. “But I have to do it. You have to die.”
And I had a sinking feeling […] before I woke […] and sat up in bed, my eyes meeting once again, for the third time, that familiar, translucent darkness just before dawn. I […] wondered whether or not I was really awake this time. I turned around to make sure I couldn’t see myself still lying in bed. I walked out into the hallway and saw that my bathroom light was thankfully off. […] It wasn’t until I finally reached school that I became convinced that this time I really was awake.