I have dreams. All the time. Some of them are humorous, but most of them are frightening, and usually, there is a challenge. It’s like playing a game. You beat the challenge and your subconscious mind throws another one at you. Sometimes it stops in the middle, and you wake feeling, I don’t know, unaccomplished, feels like something’s missing; it just feels weird. However, the feeling is lost in the chaos of the day. But I never dreamed I would be in the position I am today. I never dreamed of the abilities I would gain. This is my story. However, if you wish to keep you sanity put these words down and never read them again. But, if you are already insane, you might as well read on.

It starts like any other morning. I wake up terrified, again, although there was a slight difference in this particular dream. I was still being hunted, but I had friends sharing my misery. I didn’t recognize any of them. I also had a house. Okay, it was a tree house, but I had belongings, it was home, and it survived three hurricanes with me inside it. I digress. I wake up terrified, again. I quickly shake off the feeling and get ready for ‘school.’ I manage to sit through three lectures and two tests without falling asleep, which is a first. I log off the school network and set about ‘doing’ my homework. The key word here is ‘doing.’ I was really messaging my friends online. Well, just then my parents walk in the room. They have impeccable timing. And guess what? We’re leaving for Virginia, right now. Oh yippee, a cousin twice removed that I don’t care about is having a baby. We have to be there for ‘support’. I’ll alert the media. Everybody stop what they’re doing because one in a billion pregnant ladies is having a baby! The worst part it, we’re driving up there. From Texas to Virginia is a long way, five hours is a long way. I’m going to Old America, back when people had to drive machinery themselves. After all, it is year 2060. Okay, I admit, since it is 2060, it only took one hour. But who drives anywhere anymore? Everybody logs onto a super network from their home laptop and part ways there. The children take virtual classes from STK, ST1, ST2, and so on and so forth. STK is Simulated Teacher Kindergarten. It continues by grades. ST1 would be Simulated Teacher One for first grade. My social studies teacher is ST8SS, Simulated Teacher Eight Social Studies. See how the system works? Anyways, back to old Virginia farmhouse.

There is one family living there, two parents, five children with one on the way. Scandalous. The most children anyone could have was two. That is the standard in big cities like Houston. You were crossing the line at three, but with four or more children, pick your two favorites and the rest are sent to a foster home. Here in Virginia, I guess there are no laws about that kind of stuff. As soon as we park, the whole family comes to greet us. Well, almost everyone, Nika, the oldest daughter, stays by the door and waits until we walk in to say hello. It’s a good thing I brought my touch screen; I don’t want to hang out with Nika. School is better than this. While I’m trying to figure four other kids’ names and ages, I pick up a bit of the adults’ conversation. My eyes widen. I’m here indefinitely? No way. My parents would never do that to me. The kids show me to my room and I start unpacking. The first thing I take out is my touch screen. It is the size of a USB memory stick. I pull out the collapsible sides until it forms a rectangle big enough to place my hand on it. The blue translucent screen reads my handprint and expands to the size of a 20-inch screen. It suspends itself in the air. Don’t ask me how it works, I just mess with the stuff. I don’t build it. I typed in my PIN number and the number on my SecurId. SecurId is pretty cool. Every sixty seconds a ten number sequence is your password. Every sixty seconds the password changes. Very cool. Very secure. Have to stop talking in short bursts. Very hard. To stop.

Anyways, I fold my screen into the shape of a laptop and touch the keyboard icon. Letters shimmer to life on the bottom half of my “laptop.” I touch the wireless icon and type “search wireless network.” The blinking searching…flashes across my screen. I frown. It should have found a network by now. Well, there may not be a close network. I let it search for a couple more minutes. Just as I am about to close the search, a network name pops up. I read it and almost burst out laughing. NikaCherryBabey had obviously cloaked her modem’s signals. Smart, for a farm girl. I select the wireless network and quickly worm my way through her firewall security. But it’s her personal space and I shouldn’t be hacking my way through because I have a desire to snoop through her files, cries an inner voice that I hardly listen to. I quickly dismiss the thought and say to myself, don’t get caught. Anyways, she had a poor excuse for a firewall security. I work my way to the hard drive and am surprised to see that NikaCherryBabey is currently searching for a wireless device, a.k.a. my touch screen. I chuckle and quickly shut down my touch screen and fold it back into a USB. I pocket it and walk to Nika’s room. “Nika?” I ask in a sickly sweet voice. Nika jumps at my voice and quickly closes a window on he screen.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if there was a high, comfortable place around here so maybe I could connect to my school’s network. Do you know any place?”

She nods and leads me outside to a very lavish tree house. There is a bed in the tree house. There is a living room in the tree house. There is one additional room in the tree house. Well, you get the picture. Everything is in the tree house. This has got to be the biggest tree house I have ever seen. (Tired of the word tree house yet?) I tell Nika so and she blushes. I can tell she’s proud of it. I thank her and take a window seat nearby. She goes into another room with her laptop under her arm and closes the door. I start up my touch screen again. I search for my school network and yes! I can connect. While I was looking at Nika’s hard drivek, I noticed she had an electronic diary. That had a lock on it though. Well, nothing a little bug can’t fix. Again, my inner voice tries to reason with me but I don’t listen, again. What I need is a pro-hacker who knows how to make an encryption virus. And that pro-hacker just happens to be my best friend.