Believing Absurdities, Commiting Atrocities.

Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.1

Once in my dreams I found myself swimming in a lake of root beer, listening to the melodious slur of the songs I had heard that day. One particular section happened to reveberate through my subconsious as I lazily drifted across the calm surface. This resounding harmony stole all my trust, I couldn't help but believe it with all my heart. My soul responded to this harmony with a sense of question-ness, but i mearly repeated itsself. With no luck in appealing to it I awoke and carried on with my life.2

Again i fell asleep and dreamt of a lake of soda, though it was orange this time, with the same periodical harmony. it flowed with the medley no matter what the base of it was, it always fit well. It seemed to speak to me though I was maent to live by its hidden message. As I though more intensly about it and the more time that passed the clearer it became. When I had finally isolated it my alarm went off, I abruptly threw my clock across my bedroom and slumped out of bed. Off to work I went.3

When I returned home I immediately went to bed, curled up and fell asleep. Determined to get to the bottem of this I dreamt of the lake, switched to cream soda that night, and the music. It had reverted to the mass of harmonic sound it started as. So I once again had to clear it up, the clearer it became the less it sounded like music. It seemed more like a subliminal message, telling me of masked atrocities I should commit to free my "real" self. But when I listened hardeer to it it vanished, replaced with a small chorus of my favorite song, this though seemed to be altered as though remixed by the voice. Then it ended as the sun shone through my window, alerting me of the dawning day. Once again off to my daily routine.4

This leeting dream assailant was driving me to my wits end. So I again returned home with the intent to discover the hidden meaning and as the next day was my day off I could finally get to the meaning behind the voice. Immeditaely after I fell asleep I felt the voice questioning me, at first aboutnothing then about what in my life was wrong, but there was no sound or image at all just the purest black. The darkness was inviting and very comfortable, the longer I stayed in this state the safer I felt. I once agaian called out to the harmony that responded with a feeling of well-being. This progressed into the faint outline of a teenage-looking boy. He was dressed in a long jacket and jeans, he had an inviting face though his eyes were veiled by a layer of his long goldish-brown hair. As he opened his mouth to speak I awoke to the sound of glass breaking then a jolt as my soul left my body. 5

After that the only thing I remember was the flashing of lights farbelow where my body lay in a bloodied crumpled heap. A mere splat on the sidewalk. All the work I did to solve my mystery was all in vain, it was my undoing and thus my death. The headlines the next day read "Teenage boy leapt from window, survived the fall" and my family amazed at the fact I was still on this earth. Though the doctors said I was in a coma and my mind was still plagued by the other boy. I chased him through every plane in my mind, through all the trap doors and hidden passages until he reached my inner sanctum. The only part of me that remained purely me. There he sat on the steps that lead to my throne, I sat here alot in my dreams. Here he rested and finally he spoke. 6

"I am you, you just can't live as me. You and I are two parts of the same whole." His voice was almost eerie as it echoed through the hall. I had imagined what the voice would sound sound like in the time I spent awake between dreams, it was alot spfter and more caring that I thought it would be. I tried to speak but my voice was caught in my throat.  I though to him "Why are you doing this to me?"7

He Shuddered at my obvious misusage of the thought process and reluctantly replied with "I am doing nothing out of the ordinary, we have been going back and forth for almost three years like this."8

I tried harder to make a cement sentence of though as I thought "There's no way this could have been happening. I would have known if you were up here running rampant trying to get my attention."9

His face was puzzled as though he though i understood this had been happening. "I have been telling you all the little things you never want to hear, pushing you closer and closer to the edge so that you would lose yourself and free me." He responded.10

This time I managed an audible sound when retorting "Free you, I obviously created you, Why would me dieing free you, if i die my body wont be sustained long enough for you to take over."11

The other boy merely laughed.12

"Anyways I don't think you would have the ability to make me submit to your will." I said trying to reassure myself.13

"Do you not realize it was me that made you leap to your demise?" He Questioned.14

As I started piecing toghter the past few days a grim sneer spread on his face. Suddenly he sprang at me with a knife I guess he pulled from his jacket. Being unarmed I ran up the stairs towards the sceptar I kept to the right if my throne, if I could get to it in time I could unsheathe the sword it conceiled. My foot landed on the final stair as his steps followed close behind. I dove for the ornate sceptar just in time to avoid the blade taking a chunk out of me. I briskly pulled at the top of the sceptar to find it was sealed. Instead of stabbing him I settled for bludgening him over the head causing him to fall down the tall flight of stairs. The loud crunch of his landing on the lowest platform was music to my ears, and I guessed he had landed on his own blade as the blood of my foe pooled around his corpse.15

It startled my mother when my hand stirred, she called for a doctor. Not fifteen seconds later a tall man in a lab-type coat entered the room to find me not only awake but perfectly fine. After all the tests were run and I was cleared to go home I finally told my parents what had been through my head. They shrugged it off as an overactive imagination and I returned to my normal life, but to this day a strange harmony accompanies the melody of my life, and to this day I wont dring soda of any kind.16