Caries Somnium (pt. 2)

That night I had a strange dream. I and some other people that I have never seen before had to go through a series of trials and if we failed we died. Luckily, I made it through all of them so far. There was this other girl there. And I began to fancy this girl. I have never seen her and she didn’t seem the least bit familiar. I hoped that she would make it through each trial so I could talk to her more. I pushed everything I had so I could stay with her in line and talk. The last trial for her, O my reader was to cross a dangling old bridge. As she was crossing it, the ropes snapped and there she was hanging on the edge for dear life. I dove to grab her arm. The haunting thing was that I could remember looking into her eyes and seeing the intense and hopeless fear on her face. She fell down into the black abyss and that was all I remembered.
The next morning I woke, O my readers and the sky was overcast all gray. It didn’t leave much room for a sunrise unfortunately. So I did the old morning dooz and dressed myself while making breakfast at the same time. On the way to the second session of hell for the week I go. While riding along in the hell chariot with the kids all being annoying as before, I was still in deep thought thinking about my dream. Some of the detailed images started fading away and that whole ride I was gathering images in my brain and putting them back together like a puzzle. Though most of my memories of the dream went away I could never forget the face that poor girl made.
The bus stopped in front of the school and dropped us off. In the commons area you could tell everyone was talking about their adventures last night on the streets. I noticed with all my joy that Big Rig wasn’t at school that day. He probably wanted to avoid the humiliation of his newly deformed face, that wretch. My minions were all excited talking about last night as usual and laughing about. ‘How did you get away without being caught Virgil?’ asked Arctinus, ‘Homer and Dante ran like hell while me and Sappho hid in the little cornfield. The mini-chopper had to have seen us. It flew right over us but I guess the coppers didn’t even bother to dispatch their units after us.”
‘That’s because they are tired of all our mischief.’ I replied, ‘And while all you were scattering about like ants, I had the chance to drive off and the police are smart enough to know that most of us are not of driving age. So I drove off as if I was an ordinary person driving home from work on a Monday night.’
‘When did you get smart on us Virgil?’ laughed Homer. ‘Maybe you should open up your mind a little more and you may feel a bit smarter.’ I replied with an arrogant tone to my voice. The troops with their confirming nods had nothing else to say and the bell rang.
History class was easy that day, O my readers. All we did was watch historical films on major events. Our teacher showed us a bunch of videos on the Wars on Terror. I was somewhat enjoying it. The screen started flashing all these clips from the terrorist attacks on September 11th. People were running away screaming, crying and all that. When it showed bodies falling out of the building I couldn’t keep myself from laughing. It was like something in my stomach wanted to get out and the only way was laughter. I can’t really explain it but a person falling from a building like a doll struck me to be very funny for some sick reason. So there I was holding in all my laughter almost ready to explode while more clips of tragedy flashed on the projector. I wasn’t the only one my reader. Another clip of people flying out of buildings was shown and this kid in my class bursted out with laughter. The teacher was all like, ‘Hey, I don’t find that funny!’ And the student apologized all smart-alecky like. The kid getting yelled at only built up my laughter any more. But I was saved by the bell, O my readers.
Biology class was the same ol’ same ol’. It was all lectures and notes and no fun experiments or dissections. I went back to reading in that class as usual. The teacher seemed to stop caring. Half of the class was always asleep anyways and the class was always taught by computers most of the time. Nothing great happened that hour so I will go forward to third hour. It was the hour of Latin and the hour of Ophelia. I walked in and she was already in there sitting. After a deep a breath, I said, ‘Hi there Ophelia, how art thou?’ and out of all my happiness she replied with bright glistening smile. ‘Hey Virgil, what did you do last night? I never see you uptown.’
‘Well I usually have my own hang out place. You should hang out with us some time. We’ll sure treat you like a princess.’ I said, with my palms soaking with sweat. She laughed and said, ‘Oh really, I think that would be cool. You should call my cell sometime.’ Right there she gave me her frequency and I knew it was already going to be a good day and I didn’t even need the sunrise to make it better. My heart was pounding so hard out of love and happiness. I remember thanking the ol’ faithful Muses above for giving me my charming words. Ophelia was so sweet. I knew she and I didn’t belong in this world or this time. I got the taste, O my readers, as if it was the taste of true love. And I went to art class that day daydreaming like some mindless lover boy. The art teacher said to draw whatever and so I drew my lovely Ophelia. I put my art and soul into that drawing but it never fitted her true beauty.
I went to lunch all bright smiley and love struck. My warriors were no different than before just talking about how much they hate school like always. Homer asked, ‘What are you so happy about? You usually don’t smile like that.’
‘I think I’m in love my friends.’
‘Let me guess, Ophelia?’ said Arctinus. Sappho put on this wide-eyed but not so surprised look on her face and said with disgust, ‘Ick! Ophelia?’ I can’t see why anyone could be disgusted with something so beautiful so I asked, ‘May I ask what is wrong with that Sappho? Ophelia is pearl in mud!’
‘I don’t know why, there is just something I don’t like about her.’
‘You’re jealous of her beauty!’
‘Well she is pretty fine I must say.’ added Dante.
‘Oh whatever.’
In English class, I had to sit through all the same immaturity as the day before. Except that day we got into a class discussion about the new reality TV show Mod. Youth. Mr. Scarfe asked us what we thought of it and if it was right. I tell you now my readers that I was fully against it as it will play a big part later in my story. Some of my fellow students were against it and some didn’t care. I hated how Mod. Youth portrayed kids as unsympathetic tainted demons. They made it seem like we were infected by some vicious virus that made us violent and disrespectful. Don’t get me wrong, O my readers some of us were like that but not me. Well maybe I was just a little violent but that was the way I was. Anyways in the class I raised my hand and said, ‘I am against it because I think it’s a corporate scam and using society’s current problems in order to get good ratings and, of course money.’
‘So you think the producers are gold diggers? I see. Over the years we’ve seen reality shows covering the same topics like the problems of today’s society. Things like racial difference, wealthy people, and celebrities. While we are on this note what do you all think of the certain topic Mod. Youth covers? For some of you that don’t know they discuss the issues of today’s youth and all the rioting and violence they cause. They show the viewers the daily lives of these so called hooligans. Sadly some of the people find it funny to watch a fourteen year old kid lose his temper in front of the camera and hit his parents.’ After Scarfe said that I could tell for the first time he was enjoying that class. And yes it was kind of funny to watch a kid go mad and start hitting everyone but I knew we weren’t all like that. Scarfe then continued, ‘Personally I think Mod. Youth is an exaggeration. Yes, you kids are immature more than usual I should say but as time progresses and generations and ideas change, growing up becomes more complex. I guess what I’m saying is you’re all just growing up. I heard on this show that some psychologists are planning to rid all youth of immaturity in the coming years by forcing new discipline in schools and creating more laws. That doesn’t make much sense to me. When we were kids we all did immature and stupid things. If you’ve never did any stupid things when you were younger then you really didn’t have a childhood at all. Isn’t that all part of growing up?’
I was very intrigued by his words. Not very many people in the class seemed to care but it sure moved me. And so that little speech of his stayed with me forever especially after the events that I shall tell my readers later. The rest of the day I thought about things like I usually do. One thing that always bugged me especially on that day was going to my locker. I was surrounded by fat people. They smelled horrible. You could practically smell their lunch all over them. They always have that wheezing breathing noise coming out of their fat noses. This girl that had a locker next to mine smelled awful. Every time I’d breath around her it was like drowning in her hair. If one of her hairs touched you, you would smell like fat people the rest of the day. Now enough of me complaining about fat people, I shall talk about what happened last hour. Vex was saying all sorts of crap to me more so than ever. I knew exactly what he was trying to do. He wanted a fire to spark inside me so I’d become angry and try to fight him and probably taking advantage of me making him look tough in front of everyone. That day I had nothing to do but smile so I didn’t let him get to me. I took all his rude comments and did nothing about it while in the back of my mind I was laughing because I knew I was going to get him tonight.
School ended and I road home on the hell chariot. With a big smile on my face and power of music filled my ears. I couldn’t wait until nighttime where everything was alright. When I got home, my readers, I went straight to my room ignoring my family. Music bounced off all the walls in my rooms and it was magnificent. Whatever I asked the main computer to play it would play it and only in my room. I took a nice hot shower still listening to my music. Thoughts washed through my head just as the water on my face. And again, O my readers, I was more ready than ever for tonight.
When the clock struck at nine I snuck outside and jacked my mom’s car with her ID card like always. Off to town I went in search of my minions. They were in their usual spots on the Square. I greeted them and said my old ‘how art thou’ and Arctinus said. ‘Virgil don’t you think this poetry Shakespeare talk is getting old? Just because we are called the Poets does not mean that every word we say should sound like one from a poem.’
‘Yeah it is getting a little old.’ said Dante.
‘You fools. Everything is a poem. You and I and everything around us make up the universal poem. Poetry is merely an energy of words that flows through the universe.’ I said as if I knew everything.
‘Maybe to you Virgil, but keep your poetry to yourself.’
I knew I had to end this dispute fast before it got any further.
‘Arctinus just shut up. Now Homer, the scout that you are, have you spotted the enemy?’
I could tell that Arctinus was irritated after I changed the subject but it had to be done.
‘I think you’re going to be happy with me Virgil.’
‘What is it?’
‘I found a friend of yours. I saw Vex with a couple of robo geezers down Main Street by the old school.’ said Homer with a confident smile on his face.
‘Well what are we waiting for?’
We all piled up in the car and cruised down Main Street and further down to the next intersection, just as Homer said was Vex with some robos passing around their cigs. Quietly getting out of the car I devised a plan to surround them for we were outnumbered. And surround them we did. We charged at them in all directions and they were lost in confusion. The beating now started, O my readers. Vex was right up against the wall all cowardly like Big Rig before him. He pleaded, ‘Virgil look I’m sorry. I won’t bother you in math class anymore I swear please just leave alone.’ I was not impressed with his pleading. So I replied, ‘Well well well not so funny now, eh funny boy?’ I kicked him square in the chest and sunk to the ground groaning in pain. The robos ran away except for this girl on the ground who seemed a little scared. I approached wanting to rape the stupidity out of her for joining such a disgusting breed. When I turned her over, O my readers, a shock shot through my spine for I saw a sight I wish was never to be sought. The robo girl was none other than my beloved Ophelia. She was dressed in robo clad. I never would have thought Ophelia! She didn’t act or look like a robo styled kid but it seems at night like most of us, she changes her identity. I looked into her eyes with surprise but with much sadness and I think she looked into my eyes with the same expression. It reminded me of that dream I had with the girl holding on for her life and looking up at me with a sad and hopeless look. We didn’t say anything to each other and I ran off hoping she was just an illusion. But she was real alright and I was struck with a broken heart.
I called it a night and my minions whined and griped about how early it was. They went home unsatisfied and so did I. When I saw Ophelia like that, it was the first time I questioned myself about all the mischief we caused on the streets. I wondered to myself ‘why?’ is this really what I want to be? I felt very different after that night.
When I got home I felt a little sick. Mentally or physically I’m not really sure. I went inside the house slowly and quietly. Out of all the sadness and confusion going through my head, my dad just had to intercept me at the top of the stairs. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he said sounding like he just woke up. ‘No where just hanging out with my friends uptown.’
‘I’ve been up waiting for you. I could be asleep right now if it weren’t for you.’
‘Whatever dad, go get drunk or something.’ Saying that was a big mistake. He smacked me across the face and I tumbled down the stairs.
‘I’m not in the greatest mood I sure as hell don’t want to hear your smart-ass comments. I know what you’ve been doing in town all these nights. Stealing your mom’s ID and driving around without your own license. You always have to be cool don’t you Virgil, you always have go out at night and act like an idiot and be apart of a gang. Get to bed and if I catch you going out again I’m holding your license until you’re 21.’
I held in all my anger and all my tears. After he told me to get my ass in bed I slammed the door and collapsed on my bed. I remember crying myself to sleep. That ended up being a disaster. First, I found out that Ophelia was among the ranks of my enemies and then my dad finds out I’ve been stealing my mom’s car. I didn’t go to school the next morning, O my readers. In fact I didn’t go to school for the next two days. Skipping was easy. My parents weren’t doctors after all.
There was a visible sunrise in the morning. I saw it like it was the light of Heaven. All I did during those days I was absent was think about life and where I was headed. I also thought about what Mr. Scarfe said about growing up. Maybe it was the time for me to grow up and all that time I thought I was already grown. I listened to my lovely music and avoided my parents by locking myself in my room like an old hermit. Relaxing on my bed, I listened to piano concertos all afternoon while burning incense. I didn’t even bother hanging out with my friends. They called my cell a few times but I just turned it off. For the first time I didn’t even want to see them. Alone time and a two-day vacation was what I needed, O my readers. I could hear my parents talking about me in the kitchen saying stuff like “and you know what else he did” blah blah blah and such. I didn’t really care though, just so they didn’t walk into my room without knocking. All this relaxing and deep thinking did not, however, prepare me for the events at school the next day.
In the commons all the kids were more rowdy than usual but it was no big deal. There is no need for me to describe what happened in my early classes, O my readers, nothing great happened. It was sometime after lunch when things started getting out of control. There was talk about an uprising among the student body. I didn’t react much because it wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. Many kids have tried to start a rebellion and all ended in failure. This time it was different my readers for the main power here was numbers. Not just one group was talking about an uprising but the whole school. The faculty was now realizing that something was wrong but it was too late. A trash can flew across the floor in the common’s area followed by a howling of screams. The student body gathered in its masses and began leaving a path of chaos. They started smashing window and trashing the classrooms and the teachers panicked. Hordes of students flocked out the front entrance either escaping from school or to trash the whole town of Sullivan.
My warriors and I joined the mob outside the entrance. The whole place already looked like a mess. Shredded paper and trash covered the ground. It looked as if an army was storming the front lawn of the high school. Soon the waves of kids were crossing Wolf and Section Street climbing over cars. About the same time the students reached the road the coppers arrived. The teachers and other staff formed a line along the main entrance and the big police vans blocked all entrances to the school drive way. I knew exactly what they were trying to do. They were trapping us within the school yard. A helicopter and some mini-choppers flew over head with their flashing lights. A microphone could be heard blaring out ‘Control those kids! Control those kids!’ The students were all jumping up and down yelling and screaming taunting the police. I even saw some students throwing their leftover lunch at the police cars.
A large van pulled up and a squad of men hopped out wearing armor as you see on TV when riots are going on. At that point the students went even more out of control charging the police and crawling on the vans trying to smash their windows. Some even attempted to jack some of the police units. Kids were now starting to be thrown into the vans by the police to be contained so the students fell back. Mass confusion spread among the students when everyone turned on each other. Students began fighting one another forming a battle field in the school yard. There wasn’t a better time to get the best of your enemies, besides at night, than this moment. And it was the best time for the police to close in on us. My minions attacked the largest group being the robos. It was like a dream come true to me. I was actually in a real battle. Almost like the ones I read and write about.
In the midst of all the pushing and shoving I was separated from my soldiers. I began to call out but I didn’t receive an answer. The riot became a little frightening at that point. A lot of the faces I saw were bloody and some looked scared. It was no laughing matter now, O my readers, it was serious. A few robos grabbed a hold of me and started kicking me in the stomach. I grabbed one in the leg and bit him. He screamed and sure enough he let go. I wasn’t finished with him yet so I got on him and started smashing his face with my fist. The other robo kids around me were wrestled to the ground by the police but I was still beating in this one’s face. As I was about to throw in one more punch my hand was caught by a large police officer. Some other coppers came to his aid and picked me up. I was kicking and punching in order to break free but it wasn’t enough. They threw me into a van full of sad and angry students worried about what their parents are going to say. To the slammer we went.
There I sat in the police station like a trouble maker outside the principal’s office. Arms crossed looking helpless I waited to hear what my parents had to say. The deputy came out of the office and I sat there ready to hear my fate.
‘We talked it over with your parents and we’re giving you a choice,’ he said. ‘You can either stay with us in prison for a few weeks or you can go under the custody of those guys over there.’
He pointed at these men with filming equipment and on the back of their shirts read Mod. Youth. It was true after all. They were coming through Indiana and apparently, after they heard about the riot they must have made their way straight for Sullivan.
‘It’s not that hard to decide, kid.’ I had the choice of being locked up in the jungle with other ruffians or become a corporate product of Mod. Youth. That wasn’t much of a choice knowing that if I went to Mod. Youth I’d be free in two weeks. I chose to be the corporate product, O my readers and I’m sure you would’ve done the same.
I couldn’t see my parents by punishment but I could talk to them through the phone. Because they were my parents I did miss them a little until I talked to them. Right after I said hello my mom immediately started barking at me. ‘I hope you learn something from this!’ she said. ‘I’m not even going to say anymore. This is not how I raised you.’ I knew she was going to get dad on the phone so I hung up beforehand. In the back of my throat I could feel myself starting to cry. But I did all I could to keep my tears in.
They put us on a bus that took us to the facility or so they called it. Most of the kids on the bus with me went to the same school as I. No one seemed to be talking much. It was like a dark cloud followed the bus overhead. A dark cloud it was indeed. I remember looking out the window feeling sad trying not to cry, and feeling lost without any good muzak to cheer me up. After my moments of depression I’d grow angry at the situation. They sent us there without a trial while some of the other kids are bailed out by their parents’ money. It didn’t seem fair to me that the rich troublemakers didn’t have to go to jail when they needed it the most. After feeling anger I would go through feelings of acceptance. Maybe I could learn something from Mod. Youth? But in the back of my mind I was still full of doubt.
We were in downtown Terre Haute now. It was the older part of town and the dirty trashy part. The new buildings outside of the city limits were nice and clean compared to these slums. The Mod. Youth HQ was a big fancy building. It was actually a research facility where they used to do experiments on animals and such. Half of the building looked like it had been added on. Apparently, this was where the tyrants of reality TV were filming all there unlucky victims.
We got off the bus and they sent us inside the lobby area. There were scientists walking around with white coats on. The place looked like something from a space alien movie which at the time I found pretty cool. I waited in line until the ladies at the front counter got my name and they told me where to go. These men escorted me down a white hallway. It looked like a mental asylum. There were prison-like cells along the walls with numbers on them. I got to my room and it was Block B, Room 607. Inside of it was a white bed and desk with white toilet and sink. Everything in there was white. Even the little TV was white. The first thing I did was turn on the little white TV. It only had five channels! I was cussing to myself on the absurdity of a TV only having five channels.
‘You will be watching plenty of more TV later.’
In the doorway was a white coated man. He was older, maybe in his sixties. ‘Virgil is it?’ he said, ‘I’m Dr. Logan, Head of the Institution of Neurological Studies. I’ll be your therapist for the evening.’
‘Why do I need a therapist?’
‘I volunteered to take Block B while my assistants take care of the other sectors. You should be honored that you get to talk to the head man. Why do you need a therapist? Well you’re here for one thing. You’re obviously a victim of this virus that is infecting this generation.’
‘Virus? What virus?’ I said raising my voice, ‘Violent behavior and trouble-making isn’t a virus. It’s part of growing up.’
‘Well maybe not a virus. A better word would be propaganda or brainwash.’
‘And Mod. Youth isn’t?’
He laughed at my last comment and said, ‘Hey I didn’t say I was in charge of that stupid show I’m just working with them. And what I meant by propaganda is all the TV shows and video games you kids play these days. They influence opinion and point of views. They influence violence. Young people are the easiest creatures to manipulate. They’re so easily tricked into being good little boys and girls. Nowadays children are being raised by a television screen and now look at them. They’re all thieves, and rapists causing riots because some crappy rock band told them it’s the cool thing to do.’
‘I must agree with you there Dr. Logan but your point of view is a little one-sided. But what do I know? I am just a dumb teenager.’
Logan ignored my sarcastic comment and looked at his clipboard.
‘Let’s get to the point. I’m going to ask you some questions about some of the things you like to do. So first of all tell me what kind of music you like or what bands you listen to.’
I knew I could have a little fun with this questionnaire type deal here. So I named my muzaks from Led Zeppelin all the way down to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Surprised, he said, ‘Why is a kid your age listening to music like that? That’s stuff I listened to when I was small. I didn’t know listening to old stuff was still cool.’
‘I listen to those great musicians because their music affects me spiritually, not aggressively.’
I replied with a faint smile sitting very calm as if I was talking down to him.
‘I see that is interesting. Now what kind movies or video games to do like to spin your time with?’
‘Real violent ones but with good storylines.’
‘Okay, what are some things you do on your free time besides video games and other things I mentioned?’
I thought of many things to say. I could have told him of my adventures with my warriors on the dark streets fighting glorious battles against the robos but I told him my loving hobbies of reading and writing. Classical literature and poetry was what I told him. He had a suspicious look on his face after I told him those things.
‘You aren’t lying are you?’
‘No, why would I be lying?’
‘It’s unusual for a boy your age to enjoy the arts. Classical music and art are used to scare kids away at night nowadays. If you really like Classical literature you should stop by the library here in the facility some time.’
He came off to be pretty friendly but I knew he was trying to get me on his side. Just by looking at him I could tell he was a very deftly bastard aside from the fact that he was a scientist.
‘Well Virgil, you don’t seem to have a big criminal record so Mod. Youth won’t have any use for you so you’ll stay with us.’
‘Good, I didn’t want to be filmed by those idiots. So what am I going to do here anyways?’
‘You’re pretty much going to watch movies and play violent video games and have good nights full of dreams that you’ve never dreamt before. In the mean time rest for awhile. I have more subjects to analyze. Take care.’
He left the door unlocked. I don’t know why but it looked like he did it on purpose. I opened the door and he already down the hallway. One of the white coated scientists was walking down the hallway and he told me, ‘Feel free to visit the library or movie archives. Just don’t try to escape because you won’t get very far.’ I thought why not so I went to the library and headed straight to the Classics section. They had some of the old epics and Shakespeare plays translated into modern English to make it more reader friendly. I wasn’t too fond of them because it took the old Elizabethan feel out of it. It was better than nothing though plus I got a kick out of the slang and language that was used.
There was a lot of kids in there sleeping. Their noses were smashed into the book as if they were saying ‘Please no more! No more!’ Most of them were watching TV. They looked bored as ever. I couldn’t recognize anyone. All the people from my school were separated from me, either in another block or being exploited by Mod. Youth. With my imagination I thought of experiments being done on them by mad scientists just how the Nazis did to the Jews. It just so happens, O my readers that we wouldn’t be too far from being experimented. Maybe not tortured but we were certainly lab experiments for that ambitious Dr. Logan.
The sun was setting but I couldn’t see it out the windows. It was getting dark so they sent us to bed. In the hallway with all the cells we grouped around Dr. Logan and a few of his assistants. They were telling us about this device we had to put on every night when we went to bed. He called it the Somnium Version 2.0. It was some sort of dream machine. Supposedly it controlled what kind of things we dreamed about and how we reacted. I found the idea very interesting being an avid dreamer myself. I didn’t know why they were doing it but I didn’t care.
It was a comfortable headset with these virtual reality goggle things at the front of them. When we went into our little dorms we were ordered to plug the wires on the Somnium to this strange outlet on the wall. Where the outlet led to, I have no idea. Once it was on our heads the screen in the goggles turned on automatically flashing images of various things. Some were peaceful and somewhat beautiful like open fields and flowers, others were quite disturbing like car accidents and such. I didn’t know why they would want us to dream about people getting killed in wrecks but I didn’t mind because we see it all the time on TV. No one was aloud to take the Somnium off. If you did they would detective it and go into your dorm to force it back on. Knowing this I figured they probably had monitors in the lab so they could watch everything.
So I laid there watching this slide show of pictures in the Somnium. The first roll of slides was quite comforting. Most of them were paintings done by skillful artists and some were pictures of lovely scenery in other countries. There were pictures of beautiful waterfalls and thick beautiful forests. They were so peaceful they made my eyelids heavy. But what was keeping me from falling asleep was the other inhabitants in the other dorms. Some were screaming and yelling and some were crying. I heard a young geezer weeping aloud “Momma! Momma!” At first I wanted him to stop but after a guard shouted ‘Shut up!’ at him I felt pity. He was probably a young boy who got into trouble with the wrong crowd and now he is here away from home and his momma. I reckon he has never been far away this long from his family and neither have I.
The screaming got the point of being very disturbing in a scary kind of way. They sounded like they were damned souls being tortured in Hell. To them, this place wasn’t too far from Hell. After awhile the screaming died down and my eyelids shut. On the borderline of sleep and wake I could still see the pictures from the slides. It was a dreamlike state but I felt I was in the pictures. That is all I could make out of that night’s sleep, O my readers.
The next morning I awoke with little memory of my dream. It was only in fragments by then. The Somnium was on the desk. I could see a faint image in my head like an old faded memory from long ago of me taking it off and placing it there. I did not remember anyone coming in and taking it off so I figured I did it in my sleep. It seemed a little bit strange knowing that I wasn’t much of a sleep walker. Right then a voice came over the intercom asking all inmates to report to the cafeteria for breakfast. The food looked better than the school’s so I wasn’t too worried. After getting my tray I didn’t know where to sit, for I did not see any familiar faces. I sat next to some less intimidating group of kids. They looked at me and greeted with a low toned ‘Hello’ and went back to munching on their eggs. The kid closest to me asked, ‘So I take it that you chose to go here instead of jail. What did you do to get in here?’
‘I was one of the students arrested during the riot at Sullivan High School.’
‘Really? That riot must’ve been fun. I’ve always wanted to beat me down some coppers.’ he said with food in his mouth.
‘My name’s Tom, I’m from Illinois. All these other guys are from Terre Haute I think. They got out of jail to come to this place.’
They seemed to be a friendly bunch of kids so I didn’t mind talking with them. Everyone was talking about how they got arrested and how much their parents have to put up with. They obviously weren’t my crowd but they accepted me so I accepted them. We talked about how much we hated school like most kids did but they hated it with a passion. I was a better student than they were. They never did their work and talked back to the teachers. The category of kids I found revolting. This group was so polite and open to me it almost made me want to cry. I felt regret for hating so much. My ignorance placed me no higher than them. For some odd reason I asked them, ‘Do any of you have goals in life? I don’t know why you—or I mean we always have the urge to rebel all the time.’ They gave me strange looks. ‘Any thoughts?’ This kid known as John replied, ‘To me life is about having fun. I don’t care what teachers have to say. If I don’t want to so I don’t have to. I do what I want.’ I was surprised to learn that someone so primitive had a philosophy and a valid one it was. They all nodded their heads saying stuff like ‘Yeah, I agree with John.’
Lunch was over which was a shame for I was learning. Tom and the others spoke to me as a friend and an equal. ‘See you around.’ They said when we went our separate ways. The next place we gathered in was a large room full of VR consoles. Dr. Logan was in there with his clipboard ready to inform us. ‘Alright everyone for two hours you will all do nothing but play video games. But first place this small head set on your heads. It will not affect your game play in any way. If you need to use the bathroom ask one of my assistants and they’ll take care of you. Also remember you cannot stop! You will play for two hours straight.’ Of course none of us had any problems with this session.
I chose my console and put the little head set on and plugged it into an outlet just like I did with the Somnium. We had a collection of games before us. They were all the most violent games a parent could dread about. These were definitely games you wouldn’t want your six-year old kid playing. It was enough gun slinging head-exploding blood gushing violence I could ask for. The games I mentioned earlier that were banned from America. And so we played and enjoyed ourselves. Most of these games I’ve played so I knew what I was doing and I got bored real fast. For more entertainment I’d laugh at the other kids who lost their temper and threw their VR controllers across the room only to be yelled at and beaten down by the guards.
After two hours passed by, we were moved to the presentation room also known as the movie room. It was the first half of the session before lunch time. They made us watch violent movies like graphic war films and big action movies. We were not aloud to sleep but if the films became too much for us we were aloud to leave the room for a couple of minutes but only to return later. Everyone seemed to enjoy what they were watching. We all loved and cheered at the movies at times, they were all great.
The first half of the session ended and we went to lunch. It started to remind me of school. My new friends who have replaced my warriors for the time being were the same kind of kids we hated. We sat at our tables laughing and joking and talking about stories about life before we found ourselves arrested. No one questioned each other’s music or interests. They were rarely judgmental towards each other. I felt welcomed in their presence and for the first time I could see people for what they really were and what they could be. It was about at that time where I forgot about how much I hated robos because I no longer cared.
The second half of the movie session began soon after lunch. These videos were a lot more graphic. They were clips from old war footage and other violence like shootings and such. I enjoyed these just as much. My dark and sick humor went at it again when I couldn’t help but laugh at people getting hit by cars. But little car accidents wasn’t the only thing they were showing on the screen. Flashing before me was footage dating back to World War I then onto World War II with shots of Jewish concentration camps and their furnaces full of charred bodies. Other footage consisted of a Japanese soldier chopping off a young Chinese man’s head with his katana. There was twenty minutes of footage only showing dead bodies and people being executed. Everyone seemed to be entertained. The footage progressed through time into the Nineteen-Fifties and into the Sixties. A generation not far alike to ours. We watched footage from riots, assassinations, Vietnam War, Civil Rights movements, lynchings and more assassinations. The quality of the films improved and colorized as we progressed through the Nineteen-Eighties. More and more scenes of school shootings, terrorism, Muslim extremists, executions, and fighting in the Middle-East filled the years of the past decades. More familiar footage appeared as shots from the September 11th Terrorist Attacks came scene after scene. The early years of the 21st-Century consisted mostly of films of America’s Wars on Terrorism and the Apocalypse Scare of 2012.
The films continued until we reached modern news controversies. It did not end there, O my readers, and the content took a more gruesome route which made it comical if you will. Right of the bat, clips of dead women and children even little infants were shown. The images on the screen seemed to pound on us with footage of abortions, men being killed in combat, a woman being executed by an extremist, they even showed a man blowing his own brains out. The presentation room became quiet almost in a dead-like sense. No one made a noise. These films weren’t fun anymore but enough to make the grimmest person sick. Kids started leaving the room, most of them being the girls. Some of them were crying. Before I knew it I was one of the only few in there. The screen turned off and we were sent back to our dorms. I felt relieved it was over. Unfortunately, some of these horrid images were stuck in my head.
When I got back to my dorm, the screaming and shouting of profanity already began. I took a peak out my window and saw three guards carrying a disgusting looking geezer with nose ringed chains hanging off of him like the ones Rig had. He was screaming in agony as if they were taking him to his death. While I was looking out the window, Dr. Logan was just coming out of a dorm and walking towards mine. I quickly went back to lying on my bed as if I was minding my own business.
Dr. Logan entered saying, ‘Hello there Virgil.’ I replied with a low-beat ‘Hello’. He got out his clipboard and looked at it for a couple of seconds. ‘What did you think of the movies, Virgil?’
‘They were sick,’ I replied, ‘why would you show us that kind of stuff if you want keep us from committing violence?’
‘Whoa now hold it, I never said we were gonna keep you from committing violence we are just researching you.’
‘Researching us by connecting our heads to strange wires and machines?’
Logan rubbed his hand over his mouth. ‘My job is to study the neurological side of violent behavior. There is still much about the human brain we have yet to learn. Personally, I believe it’s not just adolescence that causes violent behavior either. There is something deeper maybe genetic or some kind of inner demon.”
After he said that I came to the conclusion that he was crazy. Inner demons? You’ve got to be kidding me. To me it sounded like more science crap making nothing out of something.
“If we identify the problem now we’ll know how to deal with it later. Maybe even reduce the crime rate by introducing new ideas to keep our children away from distasteful things.”
“I am not crazy doctor and I don’t enjoy being treated like a retard. How much money did you spend on this facility? How much money went into this research of yours?”
Dr. Logan shook his head a little and got up from his chair and said, “All this research is necessary Virgil. When you have children you’ll understand.”
I immediately backfired: “When I have children I’ll let them grow up on their own. Let them go through this violent stage in life. I know in the end they’ll understand. I know I will. I learned that one who hasn’t experienced the immaturity of adolescence never had a childhood at all.”
“You just don’t get do you?” he said, “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I got to get going and be sure to put your Somnium on tonight. You never know where the mind will take you next.”
And so he left. I was already getting sick of the place. There were enough white rooms to make a person go blind. But to part from these annoyances I decided to end the night early for there was nothing else to do but listen to the howling screams coming from the different levels of Hell. I had nothing better to do than put the Somnium on and see where my dreams take me. The little screen in the headset came on. The first few slides were peaceful images then spontaneously the content completely changed to pictures of terror no so different than the videos we watch earlier that day. It changed back to peaceful images then back to gruesome ones and then back again until it turned completely random. I could already see distorted images flash before me as I dosed off to sleep.
Right on the border line of consciousness and awake the screen in the Somnium turned into twirling portal like shape. It didn’t feel like pictures in front of my eyes anymore, O my readers, but more like a VR game. My eyes were drawn to the center of the screen where the center of this black hole was. I began to concentrate harder and harder on the center. Shortly after, I was in a haze or dream-like state. I felt myself beginning to rise as if I was floating. This strange feeling inside me wanted to reach out and grab the center of the portal that was being projected before me. As I felt this floating sensation I opened my eyes and looked behind me seeing myself on the bed. There was a silver or white like cord connecting me to what appeared to be my body. I didn’t seem to care. I wanted to go further up. And up I went as I flew out of the research facility and up to the stars.
I looked down at the world and saw all the lights from the cities and the bushy black forests as seen in the night. There was still a silver cord connecting me to my body with unlimited length. With no worries, I flew higher until I could reach out to the stars. I flew faster as I reached space. Calmness came over me like I was in a complete state of nirvana. A feeling I’ve never felt.
I flew past planets and moons and glided in an interdimensional universe. Something I still find difficult to explain today. It seems that I had set my soul free on some sort of spiritual journey through space and time like I was becoming one with the cosmos.
I was probably on the other side of the galaxy far from Earth. Some of the planets I saw had city lights similar to Earth’s. There must’ve been life on those planets but I couldn’t reach out far enough to see for myself. As I drifted further I saw more planets only these worlds were destroyed. I could see the ember color of the destroyed civilizations this planet possessed. Not too far away was another planet that was destroyed before my eyes by a gigantic meteor. As frightening as it may sound it was actually a bright and beautiful sight. Unfortunately, that was the last thing I remembered from that amazing journey.
The sound of exploding dubre from the planet caught my attention and I was immediately jerked back into my body within a second. I woke up like I just had a falling dream. I looked at the clock only a minute had passed after I left my body. It only felt like a dream when I woke up. I could still remember the things I saw during the journey in detail. I didn’t know what to think. For a minute I thought I was crazy and thinking maybe the whole thing was probably just a weird dream or a hallucination. It felt way too real to be a dream. I made myself excited so I laid my head back down to try to continue some lost dream. With the Somnium still on my head I fell back into a dreamless sleep.
In the morning I found the Somnium off my head again. The door opened and in came Dr. Logan as if he had been standing out there waiting for me to wake up. ‘Virgil,’ he said, ‘So tell me about the dream or dreams you had last night.’ I could tell he knew something but I decided to play it out. ‘What dreams?’ I asked.
‘Did you have an outer-body experience?’ he asked anxiously. I laughed a little after I heard it but I stopped and remembered that I did have a so-called outer-body experience.
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘How did you know?’
‘According to the results from the lab you astral projected.’
‘Astral what?’
‘Projected. Your astral form separated from your physical body and traveled the astral plane, did it not?’
I felt a bit let down hearing that the experience I had which felt very personal and enlightening was some how recorded. They did not what I saw on the astral plane but they knew I went there.
‘I did separate from my body and traveled but does it all mean?’ I asked.
‘It appears Virgil, that you were the only one that projected. Every other subject had a Somnium on just like yours but only you had an OBE.’
‘But why me? Why did I project when no one else did?’
Dr. Logan grabbed the Somnium off the desk and said, ‘You see the Somnium V. 2.0 isn’t only a device that allows one to lucid dream it is also an astral projector.’ He spoke with an up beat tone like he was all worked up about his work. Apparently, he always got excited when explaining to someone about his research. ‘If only you could understand that this is ground-breaking science right here. I learned under various mystic leaders that astral travel takes time and patience and possibly years to receive desired results. People claim to have left their bodies and traveled the world. Most people don’t get that far. With this machine however, you can experience the astral plane for a longer period of time. And I assume that your experience was beyond this world?’
Now we all know what the deal is, O my readers. Yep, he was crazy. He was fanatic about this subject known as astral travel. Not only that, most of his research goes into lucid dreaming. He was quite knowledgeable on the anatomy of the mind but the deep and dark secrets that the mind holds were his fascinations. It was revealed that he dedicated his life on the study of dreams.
‘Yes I did travel to what it seemed out of the world.’ I replied, ‘I saw planets and all sorts of stuff I didn’t get.’
‘Good good good. Concentration is the key to rising out of the body and that’s exactly what you did. You focused on the screen hard enough that the screened appeared like a portal. Just as I expected you floated away to space and saw planets. That’s great! Do realize we could contact distant worlds with this thing?’
Nothing but rambling came out of his mouth again. He was so in love with his work that it led to obsession. All this new technology and money was all from his greed. I loved dreams and I loved reading about them and still do but I just wanted to get out of there. I was sick of the atmosphere. Dr. Logan said ‘I got to go but I’ll be talking with you later.’ and left in a hurry leaving my questions unanswered like always.
I went to breakfast and sat with the same group as the day before. They caught my attention when they started talking about their nightmares they had the night before. Tom was talking about his nightmare. He looked like he was very upset by it.
‘I got out of this place and went back home to my family. When I got there my mom and dad didn’t even care. I was like invisible. They were pretending I wasn’t there. My dad took my dog and shot him and he called the police to take me away to be shot too. After I had this dream I now know for a fact that my parents don’t care about me. I go to jail so they don’t have to worry about me.’
At the end of the table I listened. All of their dreams seemed awfully similar to each other. Tom asked me, ‘What did you dream about Virgil?
‘I don’t remember.’ I answered. I remained quiet during the rest of breakfast. Then we did the same exact activities as the day before. Play violent video games and watch movies.
The one horrible thing that made that facility a living hell was the nights when we had to wear the Somniums. The images on the screen were still random. I kept on having these awful nightmares. Every horrible thing you could think of was what I saw in my sleep and every night I had to endure for a whole another week. My nightmares usually involved everything I’ve ever loved being taken from me. My family being killed and my house burning down with all my books in it were some of the things I’d see in my sleep. I couldn’t take it off because they’d just put it back on. Dr. Logan stopped coming by for awhile. I blamed him for all these awful nightmares for making this wretched machine.
Every night I was afraid to go to sleep, O my readers. One horrible dream I remembered was when I was standing in front of my house and I could hear my mom calling for me. I was going to go in side to see what was going on and then BOOM, my house explodes with my family inside. Then I went to school and no one paid any attention to me. I was doing horrible in school and everyone hated me. Then when I woke up there was always that great feel of relief knowing that it never happened like every other nightmare. Ophelia would come up in my dreams once in awhile, seen with another man that is. I thought about her a lot while I was in there. I thought about home all together. The nightmarish nights waking up crying were too much for me.
On a Thursday night after being in there for almost a week the nightmares only became worse. Demonic images of death of innocent people and animals filled my dreams. A continuous nightmare of my family being brutally murdered in front of me was enough. I woke up in the middle of the night screaming. I took the Somnium of my head and threw it. A few scientists came in and immediately tried to put that thing back on my head and try to put me back to sleep. I pushed them away screaming and shouting, ‘Get away from me! You’re sick! Get that thing away from me!’ but they still continued to struggle with me. I saw one lady with a big needle that had what I assumed to be a sleeping drug or tranquilizer. Dr. Logan rushed in to help. He ordered his assistants to take the Somnium away. ‘Virgil calm down.’ he said, ‘There is no need for this what is the matter with you?’
‘What are you doing to me?’ I grunted.
‘We’re not doing anything wrong to you.’
‘Bullshit! What the hell is with all these nightmares? Your machine is doing this to me.’
‘Are you sure it’s the machine and not you?’ he asked. I calmed myself down a little.
‘The Somnium has been causing me to have nightmares. Real bad ones too. Why?’
‘It doesn’t cause nightmares, you do. It shows you images and your mind creates what ever you get from it.’
I was full of anger and sadness at the same time. I wanted to cry but I wanted to stay strong. Logan put his hand on my shoulder. He said, ‘I believe these dreams are trying to tell you something. I believe all dreams are messages of some kind. Dreams are all your needs and wants formed into one fantasy while nightmares are the exact opposite.’
‘I want to go home.’ I moaned.
‘I know and you’re in luck. You’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. It appears you’re not a trouble-maker you just happened to find trouble. We really don’t have much use for you. Plus, you are using up space for real juveniles that Mod. Youth would love to get their hands on. I suppose I’ll have to wait for another astral traveler to research on.’
I became wide-eyed with joy. It felt like I’ve been in that place for eternity and now just like that, I’m free. Before Dr. Logan walked out of the room he said, ‘You know, Sigmund Freud once stated that nightmares represent the clash between your id and ego. Maybe there is an internal conflict or an identity crisis going on inside you and the Somnium just brought it out into the open more. Just something to think about.’ He left and that was the last time I saw him in person aside from all the news broadcasts later on.
The rest of the night I slept without the Somnium and didn’t dream at all. In the morning they let me eat my breakfast in my dorm. In the afternoon the bus home arrived. I walked out there and stood there and looked around thinking of my experiences there. On the bus, I looked out the window at the facility seeing all the sad juveniles rejected by their families and society.
I slept on the way back to Sullivan. When I woke we were in front of the county jail. They told me I could go inside and call my parents. Though in my heart I missed them and I wanted to speak to them I refused to call. I was too selfish and too afraid to come in contact with my family.
I sat outside in front of the jail alone, thinking about all the events of the past three weeks. I was back but I wasn’t much better because I was crying.






1

2

3


4



5