The Dreamweaver

It's not really a fan fic... but who cares?

Because this is only a short story, thus has no chapters, I will post it piece by piece.

The Dreamweaver

A flurry of activity rushed through Ian’s mind. A talking duck, a pretty princess, a vicious fight, strangely combined a normal day at the office, Ian’s dreams flashed before him, appearing and disappearing, but somehow making sense to Ian in his subconscious state. Nothing ever connected in a dream. There was no story, no meaning, not even a true knowledge of what’s going on at any given time. It just happens.

Ian’s profession as a psychiatrist only made his dreams all the stranger as his mind raced through every thought, desire, or memory Ian ever had, including Ian’s simulations of what some of the more the peculiar experiences of some of his stable patients could have been like. Some nights he would find himself with an incurable case of paranoia, which only lead to frightening confrontations. The initial trauma of witnessing whatever paranormal creature that was produced by his dream was all Ian ever had the displeasure of having, as any physical harm - and sometimes extreme fear - instantly roused Ian from his bed.

These nightmares didn’t occur excessively, though, allowing the doctor a healthy and uneventful night’s rest. This night’s fantasy was no exception and was likely a result of a stressful day of work, followed by the sixth night of reading of “The Chronicles of Narden: Children’s Edition” in a row to Ian’s daughter, Samantha.

And so the adventure continued for Ian… that is, until Ian’s memory recalled the question that had controlled Ian’s mind for the past two days: What would happen if one was to realize he was dreaming. One of his less reliable patients, a war veteran of the 1990s with a sever case of PTS, claimed that he was able to bend the fabrics of space and time while sleeping. Ian had taken the idea as preposterous, as he concluded long ago that if one were to discover that he or she was sleeping, that person would instantly be awakened by the shock of the idea. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if this wasn’t the case.

Now was Ian’s time to find out.

The question approached akin to any other part of a dream, fading in with little clarity, but something in Ian’s mind wouldn’t let it go, as though it was of some sort of importance. His thoughts tugged at it relentlessly, forcing it into his attention. Finally, Ian grasped it’s meaning, even without consciousness.

Ian’s vision was reduced to a blur as he tackled the idea that he was dreaming. For what seemed like ages to Ian, there was nothing but a blur, darkening by the second until his eyes were entirely engulfed in an inescapable inky darkness.

Struggling to remain calm, Ian squinted to try and get a better view, but to no avail. Unable to see, Ian began to bring his focus his attention elsewhere, but the area brightened without notice, as though his mere urge to see granted him light. Satisfied, Ian scanned his surroundings, but found nothing.

There was no sky, no horizon, not even a ground as Ian soon discovered he was floating. No sooner had he discovered this than he felt the tug of gravity. A sense of falling filled Ian, but without a ground to land on, Ian was yet to be sure that he actually was. After only a few moments Ian grew sick of his never-ending decline, and the feeling quickly left him as the gravity disappeared.

Curious, Ian tested a thought, perhaps he could control this dream world. Starting simple – unsure of the limits of his abilities – Ian willed for the first thing he could think of, an apple. Sure enough, a ripe apple materialized before his eyes. What else could he do? Ian decided to try something on a far grander scale. Just as the apple had, a vast landscape appeared before him, resembling that which he pictured it in his mind.

The following was filled with unparalleled excitement as Ian worked to build his dream into a paradise. He found his work to be limited only by his imagination, a concept Ian struggled to grasp. Within a few hours he had designed a hillside with a castle, to which he was king. He formed replicas of his family and friends, a vast kingdom for him to rule, along with many subjects to rule over.

All of Ian’s wildest fantasies had been fulfilled, and all within not but a few hours! Yet, through all the joy, Ian felt something missing, something he longed for but could not have, even with unlimited power.

Ian was distraught and confined himself to his throne. What could he be missing? He obtained all the riches any man could possibly envision in mere seconds. Analyzing this over and over, Ian found no answer. A lack of purpose came upon Ian, and for a time he became hopelessly depressed, doing what he had assumed would grant him happiness beyond measure.

Ian moved a diamond, larger than any Ian had ever seen, around in his hand, pushing it between the gaps in his fingers and moving it in every feasible way, soothing himself. His stress soon dropped within tolerable levels, but the release presented him with no answer. Ian looked up from his jewel and scanned the room, praying for a sign. As lavish as the large room was, decorated in all sorts of rich purples, reds, and blues, Ian despised it all. Before his temper flared again Ian stood, lacking the grace one would normally expect from royalty, and barged through the small door to his left, plowing through anyone that got in the way.

Soon Ian’s bedroom stood before him. Perhaps a good rest will help me. Realizing the irony in his idea, Ian couldn’t help but chuckle. His bedroom was near as fancy as the rest of his castle, but Ian couldn’t bare the site. Soon the room was as barren as he willed, leaving only the bed garbed in cheap cloth, his nightstand, and a small picture frame.

Settling into his bed, Ian tried to close his eyes, yet his stress prevented him from retiring for the day. Ian tossed and turned relentlessly until his gaze rested upon the simple wooden picture frame that stood on the nightstand. The blatant answer to his problem stood before him. In the picture before him was his wife and Samantha.

As realization swept over him, Ian felt a prickle on his chest. Then a second time. Again and again, each time gaining in strength. Soon the prickle turned into an unyielding pound on his torso. Each throb was as though he was struck by lightning. Not a minute later Ian’s strength faded and darkness fell over him once more, releasing him from his torrent.

Light poured through Ian’s eyes as he opened his eyes. The endless white soon overpowered Ian and he forced them shut again. His entire body felt weak and his leg was immobilized. Minute by minute, Ian managed to regain his sight as his eyes adjusted.

Absorbing his surroundings Ian faced what seemed like a normal room, but at a second glance, Ian discovered many machines of various shapes and sizes surrounded him. He was in a hospital.

Ian almost jumped up at the idea, but a soft hand grasped his own. Slowly turning his neck to see who it was, as the task pained him, he saw what he had wanted to see the whole time. He finally had what he wanted.

I read it, but its a bit confusing...

What is this about?

This is not meant to be offensive i just wish to know what it is about.

I got something about a guy called Ian who has these dreams but that is it...

Hmm... is it really that confusing?

I have added to the story, though I liked the first part better (as I always seem to do).

hmm.. somehow i think the twist is this Ian guy is in a comma and hence why he can dream withoyut waking up...

whenever i try to control my dreams i wake up then get pissed and try to no avail to get back to sleep.

hmm or for all we know its a phycaristris finaly abl to control dreams wet an unused portion of his brain now think of the possibilites if we could do tis by ourselves hell the best storys written could be made in one night

Updated and finished.

I liked the beginning better...

I can start a story, I just can't finish one.

CivBase wrote:Updated and finished.

I liked the beginning better...

I can start a story, I just can't finish one.

Same, i can never seem to finish them, it is soo hard.

Anyway, its starting to make a bit of sence now!

It's over, lol.

I know, it's super cheesy and uneventful... but it should get me an A in English ^^

Or an F if your teacher think you just copy and pasted the short story from someone else if they saw it on thsi site and she doesnt know your civbase.. oh that would be some awkward comedy