INC.SANITY

Field of Dreams

Charlie

“Well, this is new,” I thought to myself as I took in the scenery around me.

I was standing in the middle of a never-ending field, not one tree in near sight. The sky was as blue as ever, with stringy clouds swaying by unnaturally quickly. It made me dizzy just watching them pass by.

I was in a dream; I knew I was because this wasn’t the first time it felt so real. It seemed the prescribed medication for my narcolepsy hadn’t done the trick this time either. I sighed in disappointment to myself and then began walking to nowhere, one useless step after another. The air was cold and damp, the wind felt electrifying against my skin, and my breath was as unsteady as my heartbeats.

I never know what will happen in my dreams. All I know is that it’s going to be hard to wake up and that in my dreams, I’m always alone. The deafening silence always reminds me of that; there are no birds singing or crickets chirping. I can’t even hear the howling of the wind. I can only feel it, trying to push me over. I keep walking for hours like that, losing myself in my own mind, everything remaining the same, just fields and fields of scratchy grass.

Suddenly, the wind picks up, spraying my hair in my face, nudging me harder in the side. I clear my face and raise my eyes to the sky. The speedy clouds are quickly bringing in a storm my way from all directions, encircling me. I see snakes of electricity zapping amidst the prettiest shades of gray. The storm converges right above me. I hold my hands above my head and close my eyes. I couldn’t hear the bolt of lightning strike the ground in front of me, but I could feel the intense change of pressure in the atmosphere. I felt the ground shake.

Then I heard her breathe.

Susie

“Well, this is new,” I thought to myself as I take in the girl standing in front of me with her arms over her eyes and head.

We’re standing in a field so vast it reaches the horizon whichever direction you look. The sky is turning from gray to blue within seconds. The girl puts down her arms and stares at me with shock. Except I’m in shock too now, because she’s me.

“Damn, my dreams are weird,” I say, because they are. The other me just gapes; we pass a moment in awkward silence.

“I don’t understand, why are you here?” I speak up again, hoping the other me will say something.

“I don’t know, I’m always alone in my dreams. Nothing like this has ever happened before,” she answers with a worried expression, running her trembling fingers through her hair. Now, we’re just staring at each other in wonder and I take this opportunity to inspect her. I notice we are different in some little ways. She’s a little shorter than me as is her pretty brown hair. Her body is more muscular, her hands more delicate. We’re not completely the same.

“So, what’s your story?” I ask.

Charlie

I’ve been pinching myself for at least five minutes when she asks me about myself. It didn’t really occur to me that we might not be the same person. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve been walking around this dream for hours now. I’m tired, cold, and hungry, and all of this is really testing my sanity.

“My name is Charlie,” I say. “I’m 32 years old, and I work in an art gallery in New York.” She seems surprised at my response, and I understand why when she tells me her name is Susie. She’s also 32 years old, but she works as a Sports Manager in Boston, and she has two kids. We’re so similar yet so different.

She doesn’t stop talking there, though. As we start walking, she tells me about her husband and her cat called Milo. She tells me where she studied in college and about her wonderful parents. I stay silent, listening, pinching myself in the arm.

She tells me about her time spent in Japan and her amazing clients. She tells me her favorite foods and her weird habits. She’s so cheerful, I notice. She’s so happy and relaxed, unlike me. I don’t have a relationship or kids or a cat. I haven’t even been able to sleep in months.

We walk for so long; I feel like I’ve learned everything there is to know about her, and I’ve come to the conclusion that Susie is a figment of my imagination. I also feel like I want this version of hell to end. The fields around us haven’t changed, the sky stayed the same, and thankfully, another version of me hasn’t popped up yet. In a moment of my deepest desperation, I didn’t really see another choice.

Susie treads along in front of me. I hesitate for only a moment. Then, I reach for her head and snap her neck in one quick motion.

Susie

I wake up and open my eyes to see my loving husband sleeping calmly beside me. Past him, I gaze through the window at the morning sky, and the clearest memories of my dream rush back to me. I start remembering the fields, the wind, the sky, the girl.

I sit up straight and take a deep breath. For a second, I’m back in my dream and I can’t hear anything.

I thought my name was Charlie. I was 32 years old. I worked at an art gallery. I killed Susie.

I killed myself.

“Well, this is new,” I thought to myself.