The Dimensional Boy

Zoë's eyes snapped open, dread filling them in an instant. Was it real? Had all of that actually happened? She nervously peeked up from underneath her bed clothes to check. She was laid on her back, so all she saw was the ceiling, but that was enough. And if she could see the ceiling, it most likely meant that her dream couldn't have been real, because she'd still be able to see the bright light.
She sighed in relief from knowing this, but didn't dare to close her eyes again, in case the dream came back. It hadn't been scary or anything, but it had still shocked her. She'd felt the horrible sense of betrayal and urgency that the boy in her dream had felt. She'd actually felt like she had been running with him through the white corridors, rather than just watching him. She'd also felt the same sensation of falling when he'd jumped out of that door. What could this mean? Was it just a bad dream that had felt real? Zoë wasn't sure, but she knew one thing: She didn't want to see it all happen again. That's why she forced her eyes to stay open for as long as they would, even though they were still droopy from lack of sleep. After a while though, her exhaustion won over her fear and she finally went back to sleep. She was relieved to find, that the dream didn't reoccur that night.

The next morning, Zoë awoke groggily from a dreamless sleep to the bright light that was filtering in from a crack in the curtains. The light was in her eyes and it was bothering her.
Groaning sleepily, she pulled the covers over her head and tried to go back to sleep.
Where had her dream gone? She must have had one, right? She’d never not had a dream before, this was unusual.

‘‘Come on, dream, where are you?’’ She muttered dreamily, just inches from drifting off again.

Just then, her bedroom door was flung open, hitting the wall with a dull thud, waking her up again.

‘‘Good morning, Zoë, fresh as a daisy I see.’’ Her mother, Dawn Waltz, said cheerily, pulling the curtains wide so that the morning sunshine could pour into Zoë’s tiny bedroom.

She then turned her attention to Zoë’s sleepy form, which was still completely wrapped up by her bedclothes.
Rolling her eyes, both hands on her hips, Dawn said ‘‘Come on, Zo, up and at ‘em!’’

Zoë moaned sleepily, but forced her eyes open all the same. She wanted to ask her mum where her dream had gone. Maybe she’d know?
Zoë pushed the covers back and sat up, rubbing her tired eyes.
‘‘Mum, can I ask you something?’’ She yawned, one hand over mouth, muffling the question somewhat.

‘‘Sure, honey. What is it?’’ Her mum said, taking a seat at the end of her daughter’s bed.

Zoë stretched her arms up to the ceiling in an attempt of waking herself up completely. It didn’t work very well, but she felt better after she had.
‘‘Well, I was just wondering.’’ She began, placing both hands in her lap. ‘‘Do you know where my dream went, mum?’’

Her mother smiled at her. ‘‘What do you mean by that, exactly, Zo?’’

‘‘Oh, I don’t know.’’ Zoë shrugged. ‘‘Well, at first I had a really weird bad dream, but after that, there was nothing.’’
Dawn rolled her eyes at how silly her daughter could be sometimes. ‘‘We all heard your bad dream! You must have scared your other dream away with all the yelling you were doing last night.’’

Zoë frowned, thinking. Yelling? She hadn’t been yelling.
‘‘What do you mean? I wasn’t yelling.’’ She said.

Dawn laughed. ‘‘Oh, we heard you, love. All night you were yelling something about running from something.’’

‘‘I was? What did I say?’’ Zoë asked, curious about how she could have been yelling without acknowledging it.

“‘Run, Eru! They’re gaining on you!’’’ Her mother said, mimicking Zoë’s high pitched voice.

Zoë giggled at her mother’s interpretation of her, but then she realized something: she had really been yelling that? But, wasn’t Eru the name of the boy from her dreams?

Dawn seemed to notice her daughter’s thoughtful look. ‘‘What’s wrong, honey?’’

Zoë shrugged. ‘‘Oh, nothing.’’ She sighed, yawning again.

Her mother laughed softly as she yawned. ‘‘Looks like someone didn’t much sleep last night, hmm?”’

Zoë smiled sheepishly. ‘‘The bad dream scared me, mum. I couldn’t go back to sleep.’’
Dawn smiled. ‘‘Well, bed early tonight then!’’ She teased, hopping off of Zoë’s bed and heading for the door.

“No!’’ Zoë whined, taking her seriously.

Dawn laughed and paused in the doorway to look back at her daughter.
“Go on, get dressed and come down for breakfast, you must be hungry. I’m making pancakes this morning.’’

Zoë’s face lit up. She loved pancakes.
“Yum!’’ She exclaimed, hopping out of bed and racing past her mum out of the room, heading for the upstairs bathroom to get dressed. Pancakes was the magic word - once it was said, her mother could get her to do whatever she wanted.