The Dream Warden

I can see them. They float, walk, drift, run, and exist. They're everywhere, can be anywhere and aren't stopped from physical objects. They are just as alive as a human being, they live, breathe and thrive. For some reason, I can see them, but no one else can. I could see them for as long as I could remember. I thought it was natural, I thought everyone else could see them, too. I learned the hard way that what I saw wasn't what people called "normal." I was strange, I was a freak, and I was isolated. My mother, my father, my older brother, they were all terrified of me, of what I saw. I couldn't blame them; the things I saw were different than what was considered normal. My mother gradually became more and more insane the more I was around her. She would get stressed out quickly just by seeing me, a small seven year old at the time. She would scream and be very, very angry whenever I came into the house from school. It seemed like the only time she was at peace and was happy was, well, when I wasn't home. My brother and father were just as afraid of me as she was, though instead of yelling or getting angry at me, they avoided me like the plague. I had to make my own breakfast, lunch and dinner and I got quite good at making Spaghetti.

After a while my mother just began to leave the house more and more, and the time she stayed away from the house began to get longer and longer. When I turned nine, my mother started getting physical with me and her words became harsh and painful, like the tip of a steel blade. She spat cruel words at me like venom and threw whatever object was available to her at the time. My father and brother did nothing and said nothing, each went into their room as, becoming painfully ignorant at the abuse that had been laid out upon their very eyes. It wasn't until my mother threw a chair at me and fractured my skull when the line had been crossed. The doctor at the hospital had gone through questioning about my injury as well as the police; however, the only thing I had told them was that it had been an accident due to my carelessness. No matter what had happened, I still loved my mother, maybe it was my innocence from being a child, maybe not, I don't know. When I was finally released from the hospital, I found my stuff was all gone and the last of my clothes were packed into a rather large luggage in front of the door step. My father stood next to the luggage and said in a quiet voice that I would be living with my grandmother for a short while. He didn't look me in the eyes and instead averted his gaze into the sky, as if in a trance. It was then I understood completely, he wasn't going to take me back, I understood it very well.

I simply nodded and grabbed my luggage. My grandmother stood in front of a very old, faded blue Volkswagen, instead of a cold, hateful look, I was surprised to see that her face had been filled with a very heartwarming smile. I walked slowly to her, afraid that what I had been seeing wasn't real, but my own dream. However, she welcomed me with open arms and helped me into her car. The ride to her house was quiet and lasted about twelve hours; she had lived quite a while away from us. We would occasionally stop to eat, use the bathroom and refill the gas making small talk while doing so. I had only answered her quiet "yes'" and "no's'." She didn't pressure me to talk anymore and was very kind regardless of my rude behavior. Her house was a tiny little house; it was a light shade of pink with a white picket fence and a beautiful garden, like a house you'd see only in cartoons and movies. It moved my heart for some reason and I had become excited. My grandmother, seeing this, smiled and gave me a tour, her smile never faltering and only seemed to grow as she watched me.

When we finally came to a room in the house, my grandmother patted my head lightly and told me that it was my room. It was a beautiful room; the window had the perfect view of the garden in the front yard with drawn back pink curtains. The bed was a large, amazing canopy bed, with a matching pink shade just like much of the room. It was a princess-like room, a room I've only ever seen in my dreams. I began to break down and cry right on the spot and my Grandmother said nothing but only hugged me. I wasn't sure how long I cried in her arms, but when I finally calmed down; my Grandmother wiped the remains of my tears and only smiled.

"Are you feeling better?" She asked; her voice soft and kind.

I nodded, sniffling a little.

"There, there, little one. You're all right now, you can get all the love and attention you want from me, I won't be angry with you for it, I promise." Her smile only seemed to get kinder and I began to cry a little more.

"Why do mom, dad and brother hate me?" My small voice cracked, shaking on each word. "Is it because I can see things they can't? Is it because I can see ghosts? Why did I have to be different…?" I began to cry more, hating the curse that I had been born with.

"Oh sweetie." My grandmother's eyes saddened and she sat down, placing me onto her lap. "What you see aren't ghosts." She looked me into the eye, her expression changing from sadness to worry. "You probably think that because what everyone else has told you, but that is not what you are seeing."

"Then… What are they?" I returned her gaze, confusion slowly taking over my sadness.

"What you are seeing are dreams." She answered, her expression started to warm up once more. "It's not something to hate or be afraid of, it's a gift."

"A gift? But everyone hates me for it! If it's a gift, I don't want it! I don't want it anymore!" I shouted, I began to sob even harder than before but my grandmother only waited till I was done and simply comforted until then.

"Everyone is afraid of something that is different, something that is unknown to them and it's something they will never experience in their lifetime. What you have is something special."

My grandmother's eyes seem to sparkle and for once, I didn't feel like I was strange, my grandmother had made me feel like I was normal, with her, I felt like I belonged on this planet.

"How do you know?" I mumbled.

"Because," she her eyes drifted behind me, looking out the window. "I can see them too."

That day, five years ago, was when I told what I really was. My grandmother had explained everything, my gift, and about my father, her son. She told me the story of my gift. Long ago, there existed an ancient, yet small village called Queritten. It was a village that lay hidden among a forest, unknown to the rest of the world. Their village had lived peacefully and knew very well how to defend themselves amongst the dangers of the forest. They worshipped the gods "Quinxitelpo" the god of light and "Ritxeltenpo" the god of shadows. Every ten years the village would choose two women anywhere between the ages of ten to twenty years old, and would sacrifice one girl to Quinxitelpo on the day of the summer solstice, and another on the day of the winter solstice to Rixteltenpo. It had been a great honor to be chosen as the "Light Maiden" and "Dark Maiden" for sacrifice to the gods that had been protecting the village for many generations and all who were chosen were notified of it the year after a sacrifice had been made. One day, a large group of foreigners had stumbled upon the village, who, in return, welcomed them with hospitability. They lived in peace for a few years until one day; one of the foreigners had fallen in love with the Dark Maiden, who had fallen in love with him as well. This had become a very bad problem, for a chosen Maiden was not allowed to have any worldly attachments, including a lover. The Light Maiden had discovered their affair, but had kept quiet, for she had been close to the Dark Maiden like a sister would, even if she very clearly did not accept their relationship. Soon it had been time for the sacrifice. The Light Maiden had accepted her fate with ease, but soon after her sacrifice, the Dark Maiden had begun to feel unease. For the first time in her life, she had been afraid of her fate, being sacrificed just like the Light Maiden, for she did not want to disappear and forgot by all, especially her love. Her lover, seeing this and disagreeing with the foreign idea of sacrifice, had come up with a plan for them to leave together the night before the sacrifice. The lover, however, did not understand the truth of their worship. He did not understand their gods at all, for in his ignorant little head were his own gods, his own religion, he had only thought that their gods had been false, pointless.

Time passed and it was soon the Dark Maiden's turn to be offered up to the god of the shadows. Just as they had planned, they ran away from the village, away from her fate. Morning came and the village was in chaos as they scrambled to find her. They found no trace of the Dark Maiden or any of the foreigners that had been living with the village for years. They had no luck, and soon the day had been over. The Dark Maiden and her lover had rejoiced, for they had successfully escaped their fate. However, Rixteltenpo had not taken kindly to this. The offering Rixteltenpo had waited for had not come and he became furious and unleashed his wrath upon the poor village. He had cursed the natives of the village with nightmares, nightmares that had walked upon the Earth during the day, and the villagers, knowing this terrible curse would last their lifetime, had taken their lives. The Dark Maiden, too, had been afflicted with the curse, and she lived screaming in terror as she saw the monstrous dreams walking about. Her lover, seeing her fall into insanity, left her immediately and she had been all alone to face the horrors. However, the only thing holding her back from taking her own life was the small life kicking within her. She lived day after terrifying day facing these fears for months until her small child had finally come. She looked at the child, tears welling in her eyes, feeling a happiness she had never felt. She wrapped the baby in cloth and left the small child in front of a small cottage she had found while wandering. Soon after, the Dark Maiden had walked towards the edge of a deep cliff and jumped off, ending her life. Quinxitelpo, seeing the mother's endurance and sacrifice, took pity among the mother and her small child, for Quinxitelpo knew that the child, being born from a native, will suffer through Rixteltenpo's curse so he gave the small child a blessing. He had let the child see dreams, sweet, happy dreams that would walk among the earth as well and protect the child. The dreams of people, the dreams of happiness and love. Quinxitelpo could not undo Rixteltenpo's curse, but he could make it so the child would not live in fear because of it. He gave the child ability to lock away the nightmares of the world, to lock them away and give humanity the sweetest, happiest dreams instead. The child would be safe and would not have to live in fear at the same time, they child would have the ability to change the hearts of bitter people and see the Earth in colors, shapes and ways that no one else would ever get to experience. The child had been born female, and for some reason, it had only been the females that had been passed down with both the blessing and curse, though the males of the family had been able to "sense" the dreams and nightmares, though not seeing them clearly like the females.

My grandmother explained that my father had nearly been killed by a nightmare when he was sixteen, but she had protected him, completely injured and almost dead as well. My father was terrified and the fear of what his mother saw soon corrupted his heart and he had begun to hate and blame her for "bringing" those things towards him. He did not speak to his mother, and when he did, he only spat cruel words to her. This went on for two years until he turned eighteen; he had left her house without a word and hadn't spoken since. It wasn't until two weeks before I was released from the hospital that he came in contact with her again and had asked to take care of me instead. My grandmother understood immediately and came to pick me up as soon as possible. This was five years ago, I'm fourteen now, and my grandmother went missing two days ago.