Dreams

The little boy dreamed.

Snug and comfy, he snuffled a little, then subsided as he lost himself in the place where anything and everything is possible.

As a little boy, he dreamed little boy dreams. He dreamt of sweet and sugary things, of smiles and bright lights, of fireworks on Midsummer's Night, of hugs and kisses. He dreamt of love and comfort, of happiness and joy, of naivety and sweet blissful ignorance. But not all was warm and sugary, however. In the background of his dreams hovered taunts and cruel acts, deaths of pets and stern voices. There were shadows of fear, dashes of curiousity, blotches of confusion. The background was streaked red with anger and malice. Nonetheless, in his dreams, the background was still only a background, kept far away by the bubble of warmth and love.

Then, in his dreams, the boy grew up, and he became a young man. But even as he grew in stature, the bubble that shielded him did not. Thus he was a young man with naught but a little boy's protection from the cruel and cold world without. Still he dreamt the dreams of young men. He dreamt of calloused hands, of his first hunt, of studying under the greatest men in the land. He dreamt of passionate young love, of the joy of knowing others, of interesting personalities, of firm but fair teachers. He dreamt of hard work and its returns, of taking risk and shooting stars, of carefree-ness and passion, of curiousity and daring, of bravery and strength.

However, as his experiences expanded, the background, too, grew more tangible. Horrible faces flitted past him, grotesque in their anger and hatred, their screams of anger and pain increasing in volume, accompanied by the banshee wails of the suffering. Pain, grief, anger, and suffering, multiplied a dozen times. The ghosts of jealousy, greed and lust became visible, hideously so. Confusion, desperation, and frustration grew as he screamed for help and guidance.

The bubble burst. Torrents of emotion flooded him as he jerked violently in his bed. No longer shielded, he opened himself to the extremities of emotion that are rarely felt. A lifetime of emotion, experienced in seconds. His mind and soul leaped, threatening to explode.

The little boy sat up with a lurch, yelling hoarsely. His eyes wild and bedclothes askew, he scrabbled around in panic until his disorientation subsided. Then he looked into the mirror.

A young man with blazing eyes stared back at him.