Dreamscape: Saving Alex (4 page)

I was in trouble. Barely into the game, and I
already had to start over. How many chances would I get? Probably not enough.

I slid my palms down my bare legs and looked down
at my white t-shirt: dusty, torn, and a bit too short. I wished I had slept in
something different. It didn’t matter though. I couldn’t change it.

The wind no longer beat against me but stayed at
my back, helping me along the path back towards the forest. This time I managed
to stay on my feet and avoid the patches of dragon weeds by weaving through the
field. Their red petals flickered like flames.

I sighed when I reached the edge of the forest.
The dark puddle that surrounded the crushed bird was still there, directly in
front of me. I couldn’t avoid it.

Seeing it all again didn’t make it any easier. In
fact, my unease grew. I felt sick. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a game. I’d
already killed a defenseless animal. What more would I have to do? I shook all
over. How could I possibly keep myself alive, or sane?

If I entered the forest, I was committed to this
game. Even knowing the tricks and shortcuts that awaited me didn’t calm me
down. I also knew the dangers, and what was required to win. Everything here
was real, or real enough to make me second-guess my actions. Could I do what I
needed to do to survive? But what other choice did I have if I wanted to get
home?

Home. Where was that exactly?

It seemed like nothing more than a dot on the map.
The home I wanted didn’t exist anymore, packed away in cardboard boxes. But
even if I didn’t have a home, I had a world to get back to. And I didn’t want
to waste what little time I had left in some fantasy childhood game.

A shudder ran down my spine as I looked behind the
tree. Level one, the dark forest.

Go big or go home
. That’s what my dad
always said, but here, I surmised, I had to go big to go home. I smiled,
surprised to hear his words in my mind. I usually hated his cheesy one-liners,
especially the last couple of months. But now, it made me smile. I wished I
could hear his voice.

I wished for a lot of things, especially that my
path home didn’t start in the dim light. From the threshold of the trees, every
direction offered shadows, one darker than the next. It seemed like such an
ominous beginning. I held my breath, taking a hesitant step forward, carefully
avoiding one flock of puff birds creeping closer from the forest, and then
another.

The trees grabbed at my shirt, tearing more holes
through the thin fabric. My heart drummed against my chest, drowning out the
sounds of the birds and the now-forgotten theme song. The chill of the darkness
engulfed me, and then I ran.

I ran until my
chest burned and
felt
like
it
would
cave
in, which wasn’t very far. Another one-liner filled my mind. This one I didn’t
miss. The condescending tone of my mom’s voice:
Some people are more suited
to the arts than sports
. The words had left a deeper imprint than I wanted
to admit.

My steps slowed,
pulled by an invisible weight. Even here, I couldn’t get far without my
parents’ voices souring my thoughts. It must be a parent thing, knowing just
the right combination of helpfulness and ridicule to sting.

I yelped as tree
branches whipped against my cheek, cutting my pale skin. A drop of blood
smeared my fingers when I wiped the scratch. I had to let the distractions go
before they killed me.

Thankfully, between
the moving shadows, birds darting from branch to branch, and my own efforts at
keeping my shirt pulled
down
, my
attention wandered back to the path. The trail, made of moss, decomposed
leaves, and soft bark, felt gentle to walk on.
Even though my arms and
legs were covered with scratches, my bare feet remained relatively unharmed. It
was a welcome surprise.

I plodded through the forest, avoiding the puff birds and
giving a wide berth to the dragon weeds. I
dipped under low-hanging
branches, scooted past rough bushes, and jumped over piled rocks, all to the
rhythm of the Dreamscape theme song. The blisters
along my hands and shins receded, and I found
myself smiling more often than not, even humming along with the theme. It was
like
any
other walk, except with the same song stuck on repeat. A
little
annoying, but it reminded me where I was. I needed
that reminder in a forest
like
this,
where increasing wonder made me forget the danger.

Shadows no longer
swirled around me. Instead, the further into the forest I hiked, the more light
shone down. Steady streams of sunshine followed me
like
a spotlight as I climbed around the larger branches.
The spindly trees thickened, and the trunks twisted around each other, building
wider bases until the trees blended into one another. Moss grew between the
seams of the trees, creating a wall of soft, green velvet.

Roots crept across
the dirt, tripping me. I slid over the smooth bark as I ran and jumped from
tree to tree. The branches extended out
like
fingers,
some
draping the ground
while others led into the canopy. And then I squinted, studying the trees. I
squealed, sending a flush of birds off the lowest branch.

I recognized the
first set of choices from the game.
Maybe
being here
would
n’t be so different after
all
, especially if the challenges I faced
matched up to the specifics of each level. If I could maneuver through the maze
of branches, avoid the legions of puff birds, horned rabbits, and armed
jugglers, and make it to the marketplace, I could put this level behind me. It
sounded ridiculous, but doable. In fact, the longer I thought about it, the
more certain I became. I could do this. I knew the secrets, the shortcuts, and
the tools I needed. I could win!

I jumped on top of
a branch and scampered higher. The bark scratched my feet. They itched to
climb. A
new sense of lightness settled on me the
higher I went. Shrugging off the invisible weights
holding me back, I pressed forward farther than I should have.

Thin and smooth,
most branches fit perfectly in my clasped hands. I tested my weight, swinging
lightly forward and back until enough momentum flipped me over. My confidence
grew as each swing synchronized with the theme song’s underlying rhythm. For
the moment, I let it
all
go and spun
around again. The contradiction of finding freedom by losing control
felt
right.

The branches
swayed,
bending with my weight
. I jumped
from one branch to the next, and then the next, disappearing between them as I
swung.

I grinned. Maybe
there were worse things than being stuck in a video game. This could be fun.

I stopped, but the
world kept spinning.
Leaning
against the
main trunk, I closed my eyes in contentment, waiting for my balance to
stabilize. When I re-opened them, birds sang to me, and the breeze brushed
short wisps of bangs off my forehead. Within the sparse branches, tiny forest
animals played peek-a-boo. Small yellow flowers grew off patches of moss. I
pinched off a bloom and brought it close. The sweet smell of honey tickled me.
Apparently this world held treasures I wasn’t aware of. I tucked it behind my
ear.

I sought out other
treasures hidden within the web of green stems, hoping for another glimpse of
the delicate yellow flowers, but didn’t find any. The branches thinned as I
climbed higher, and the bark peeled at my touch. I had gone up too far. I
climbed back
down
to the branches that
were thick enough to walk on, and something glittery caught my eye.

As I leaned forward and looked
closer, I saw it. A sparkling object hid under a mess
of crisscrossed branches. I grabbed onto the limb above me for balance and
swung out, kicking the stray branches away. They snapped back into their
natural position, revealing a hidden box. I
almost
let go of the branch in my excitement. I knew what
was in that box.

I balanced
across
the thinner branches, holding my breath as they dipped beneath my weight.
Doubts crept into my mind. Greed had never overshadowed my rationality before—I
didn’t
understand
why I was letting it do
so here. Yet that treasure with its glittering markings called out, and I had
to have it. I jumped.

“Yes!” I grabbed
hold of the box, grateful that, at the last minute, I decided against striking
it with my head like in the game.

The strength of the
vines held for a moment, and then they cracked. I clutched the box
to
my chest and closed my eyes as I fell. A pile of
decomposing leaves and chunks of moss caught me. I opened my eyes
slowly
. The small thrill that I was still in the game
surprised me, then magnified when I saw the wooden box in my hands.

Brushing off the
damp leaves, I examined the box. A dark red stain outlined the golden spirals
around the edges, softening its crude
appearance
. It reminded me of my first paintings made at recess with fallen fruit
from the olive trees. This was much better, designed with a purpose. When I
flipped it over, any similarities I saw to my own art disappeared. Masterfully
executed leaves, flowers, and bursts of fireworks covered the wood. Only an
artist
could
create something of this
quality, but why hide it deep in the forest? It didn’t make sense. Something
this beautiful needed to be shared and admired.

I flipped it
back
over and unwound the trailing vine from the wooden knob. The box opened, and
coins trickled into my palm. The money jingled in a pile, threatening to fall
out of my hand. I awkwardly spread my fingers to keep the coins from slipping
through, but there were too many. Pieces slipped through the gaps between my
fingers. This much gold could only mean one thing—I was rich!

With this much
money, I could buy everything I needed to make it through this game with ease.
My mind raced over my options. The coins collided in my hand, and my smile grew
wider with each jingle. All I needed now was to find a marketplace and I would
be set.

Marketplaces had everything—weapons,
clothes, food, maybe even a shortcut home. My stomach grumbled at the thought
of food. I hadn’t stopped running or climbing for long enough since getting
here to really feel anything but fear and exhaustion. Adrenaline had quieted
all my feelings except the obvious bursts of pain from the burns and scratches.
That made sense to me, but for some reason, the grips of hunger twisting my
mid-section were unexpected. Hunger threw in an unnerving level of reality.
Pain was normal in dreams, but hunger? Hunger was something from real life.
Accepting that was harder.

Luckily I knew
where the main marketplaces were, and as soon as I left the dark forest, I
could fill that void. I balanced a gold piece atop my forefinger and flicked it
up with my thumbnail. The gold glinted in the sunlight. It felt good to be in
control of my destiny.

I loaded the coins
into the wooden box and stared at the carvings once more. The craftsmanship
astonished me. It
seemed
elaborate for
something as simple as a money box, and leaving it in the forest didn’t
seem
right. Beauty like this needed to be appreciated.

I tied the vine
from the clasp around my wrist as a makeshift purse. The weight pulled my arm
down, but I didn’t mind. The substantiality of it lightened my spirits. The
more reality I could grab ahold of, the better.

But the clasp
didn’t hold, and before I had taken three steps, most of the gold coins had
fallen to the ground, rushing out in a steady stream before quieting in the
soft dirt. My heart sunk as I watched my wealth disappear.

“Crap,” I said. In
my mind, I had already spent those coins. I spared a moment to
look
around before dropping to my knees. Sharp rocks cut
me from beneath the layer of dirt. Without the sun shining on them, the
corroded gold blended in to the soil, making my search twice as difficult.

My frantic
shuffling of leaves hid the sound of breaking branches until a burst of
laughter rang out. I froze for a second, then snatched a single coin and the
closest stick before running to hide behind a tree.
Its bark scraped me
as I folded into the tight grooves of the trunk. My quick reaction did little
to minimize my vulnerability. If they looked in my direction, my white shirt
flashed in the darkness like a flag.

The people grew louder. How could I have missed
them? I pursed my lips and dug my nails into the tree, hoping to get a glimpse
of them. There were only so many characters in this game, and I couldn’t think
of any I wanted to meet weaponless in the dark forest. I bit my lower lip.

Judging by their voices and heavy footsteps, I
counted two men. They sauntered along the trail, oblivious to me or any of the
forest creatures as they trampled over bushes, stomping a flurry of puff birds
and horned rabbits underfoot. They didn’t hesitate at the screams of the
animals or at the crunch of bones beneath their boots.

As they passed in front of the tree where I hid, I
heard a soft jingling. I lost my inner battle to refrain from looking. Surely
nothing that jingled could be that bad. Peeking around the trunk, I saw them
and inhaled sharply.