Confronting A Dream

Very rarely do I remember my dreams, and when I do remember them, it often results in me contemplating what I had just dreamt. However, this dream was divinely eccentric.

I had been placed inside my house, however it wasn't exactly my house: it was from when I was a child, when I used to live on Neptune. I had gazed around the room and saw a light flickering outside, so I decided to venture out. I had never been one to be intimidated in a dream, but I was: the scenery and the street had changed. My once crusty, asphalt-laid street had transformed into a suburban mesh of houses.

When I stepped outside, a man that was a year older than me greeted me. His name was Cameron. I had always looked at him eerily in my AP Physics C class last year, but I never knew why. Whenever I had glanced at him, he always gave me this feeling that he wanted me; though I knew that wasn't possible: he was straight.

Cameron grazed over towards me and pressed his feet on top of mine: "So, what's your favorite play?" I was dumbstruck by such a weird, yet simple request that my tongue seemed to coil up inside my mouth, not granting me permission to speak. He beckoned at me again: "So, what is it?" I looked at his hazy blue eyes. For some reason I had never known what his actual eye color was. I had always liked blue eyes for some reason.

"Pygmalion," I replied.

He gave me a surprised look, and said, "Well then, what's your favorite scene?"

I took a moment to process what was the most censored and non-sexual scene, but my mind told me otherwise: "The scene where Eliza is walking down the corridor of the party, and where everyone is looking at her."

"Do you consider that a sexual scene?" He asked me, politely.

"Yes," I added.

He responded immediately: "Why's that?"

I pondered for a moment: "Well, every man in the room seemed to gaze up at her, hoping that they would somehow grab her attention. They even went to great lengths to see her, such as standing on top of their chairs."

He leaned in, "Well, I would love to reenact it with you." After he had finished saying "you," he squeezed my nose for a second and wondered off into his house. What a strange encounter.

I immediately woke up after he slammed the door and saw that my dog, Guapo, was lying beside me: "Move, Guapo!" He picked himself up, half-awake, and moved to the other side of the bed. After some shuffling and repositioning of my legs, I attempted to go back to sleep: it seemed as though he was inviting me into his house. I had to find out why. I had to go.

I clenched shut my eyes, and after 30 minutes of hazy thought, my nose was greeted by the smell of old, musty carpet: I was back in my alternate home.

Knock. Knock.

To my surprise, it was Cameron's Father telling me to come over: they were having a pool party and a barbeque. I didn't hesitate to say "yes" since it was an invitation into his dwelling, but I was so rash in my movements towards his house that I forgot my bathing suit.

I followed Cameron's Father into his house, and once I stepped inside, his father said in a high-pitched tone, "Well, I'm off to the supermarket to go get the food. Be back in a jiffy!" I saw a smile take over his face, and he slammed the door.

I turned around to see Cameron dressed in his bathing suit: "Hey," he said, stepping closer to me, "Want to go out to the pool?" I didn't resist the urge to say, "yes," so I grabbed his hand and went outside. When we pushed aside the translucent sliding glass door, we both took a step outside: outside there was no light; only darkness. But, oddly enough, I could still see him as clear as daytime.

He walked over to the other side of the pool, and his light brown hair seemed to gleam in the darkness; his semi-erotic cologne fused with the surroundings, and beckoned me towards him. He had a cute smile; a hairy happy trail; a set of flabby abs; however, nothing physically attracted me towards him: it was more of the rush and the opportunity to kiss a straight man, which I knew was straight in real life.

He glared me in the eyes, and I tried looking away, but somehow, we both managed to jump into the pool at the same exact moment. As I dove down to the bottom of the pool, he looked at me, and we both joined hands.

"Here."

He squeezed my hands a little tighter, and gently glided his head towards mine, and planted his lips on top of mine. He kissed me. Through some magical and divine forces, his true heartfelt emotions had transcended through the underwater vibrations. I had felt true happiness; something that I often had not received when I was in reality. As his lips parted from mine, I opened my eyes, and to my amazement, his eyes were open, too.

We both glided towards the surface of the pool, and upon our arrival at the top, he said, "Let's go back to your place."

I woke up again, but this time Guapo was in my way of turning: "God dammit, Guapo! I told you to stay over on the other side of the bed!" He placed his claw out and scratched the surface of my pillow, begging me to pet him. I gave him a quick pat and motioned him towards the other side of the bed. He picked himself up, once again, and with his head down, he sat down on his blanket.

I ruffled my pillow a few times, and positioned myself in one of the two positions that I had been accustomed to throughout my whole life: either laying on my right side facing the concrete wall, or laying on my left side facing the television. I chose the left side.

When I clamped my eyes shut, the semi-erotic Calvin Klein cologne welcomed me: I knew that Cameron was next to me. "I have never felt this way with any girl," he said, "I just want you to know that, alright?"

I nodded and motioned him to put his arm around me, and he did. For once in my life, I had something that was mine; something that I was able to call my own.

"D," he said, "How do you feel about this?"

I didn't know what to say. Throughout my whole life, it had been building up to this dream, and subconsciously I made the decision to control this dream. I wanted my parents to come home. To my surprise, they had opened the door, and an unusually loud creek was let out as the door crept open: "D, we're home!"

Cameron's face was shocked: he knew that I had changed the dream to make it so that I wouldn't have to answer the question. He dashed out the side entrance to the house, and raced into his house.

I never saw him again, and I was happy.