Dreamscape

By Jay Daringo

Would you trade the very thing that makes you human in a promise of eternal life?

If advanced intelligent beings came down from the heavens offering you thi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue treasures
• Release date: May 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9781962300063

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Dreamscape

Jay Daringo

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Copyright © 2024 by Jay Daringo

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Chapter one

It's late night in the Australian outback. The stars are out bright. You can hear more than you usually do, all the animals seem to be extra present. Maybe I'm just noticing things more. When you're away from the big city you sure can think more clearly, outside of all the busy hustle and bustle of normal everyday life you definitely gain a new perspective. A new perspective is what I need. Why else would I be out here, certainly not for the so-called views. When you've lived in the same place long enough it kind of loses its magic.

The night air is crisp, and the stars overhead are my only companions in this vast wasteland. Away from the city's chaos, every rustle in the bushes and chirp in the night feels magnified, as if nature itself is whispering secrets. I didn't come here for the breathtaking views; I came for a perspective shift, an escape from the mundane. Out here, under the celestial canopy, I hope to find clarity.

Standing alone in the wilderness, I reflect on the journey that led me to this moment. The cool breeze carries fragments of memories, and the symphony of nocturnal creatures becomes the soundtrack to my contemplation. It's not just about escaping; it's about rediscovering what truly matters. Each step in the soft desert sand feels like a deliberate stride toward self-discovery, a quest for answers that have eluded me for too long. But I feel like it's all too late now.

I need answers.

Why did she leave me?

Why did I let her leave me?

Why did they take my daughter?

Why didn't I put up a fight?

Why do I live in denial of it all?

I know the answers. We all know I do. I just don't want to accept them as the truth. Maybe if I deny it enough it'll cease to exist. I have to stop.

The old jeep grumbles along the dusty trail, a tired companion on this journey of mine. The rhythmic hum of its engine provides a backdrop to my thoughts, steady and unyielding, much like the questions that echo in my mind.

As the wheels turn, my mind drifts back to the haunting questions. The landscape, desolate yet comforting, mirrors the expanse of my thoughts. The vastness of the outback offers solitude, a space for some much-needed introspection.

The jeep shudders to a stop, raising a cloud of dust that hangs in the still night air. With a creak, the door swings open, and worn boots meet the ground with a familiar thud. I remove the mask from my mouth, the cotton texture a tangible reminder of the world outside.

The outback, once a refuge for contemplation, now confronts me with a stark truth. My tired eyes scan the barren landscape, and a bitter realization takes hold. The pandemic, a force that reshaped the world, now stands as a metaphor for the upheaval in my life. Blaming it offers a semblance of control, a way to deflect from the personal turmoil within.

Perhaps it's easier to assign blame to external forces than to confront internal struggles. The pandemic becomes a convenient scapegoat, a shared enemy that unites the world in adversity. As the mask hits the ground, I can't escape the irony — a small rebellion against a global crisis.

The thud of boots on outback soil becomes a solemn reminder of the universality of pain, of the shared burden we all carry. The old jeep, now silent, serves as a vessel for contemplation amidst the vastness of the land and the weight of personal revelations.

I don't know what to do anymore. I need answers. I find myself saying that a lot. I have to keep asking, at least until I find the answers I seek. I think I found an answer. It's in the backseat. I go to open the back door. My hand sits on the door hinge. A shiver passes through my whole body. My head swivels, left to right. Back and forth. Something is wrong. I can feel my heart rate increase. It's just my paranoia. You have to learn to shut it out, if you don't it can drive you mad. The alcohol helps. That's why I always keep a flask on my person. Well not entirely because of that, it's the only thing I have left from dad. He was an alcoholic; they say it runs in the family. I intend on snapping that 'streak' if you will.

Emily always hated my habit of drinking. She did tend to exaggerate things. It wasn't a problem, no matter what the marriage therapist says. Emily was never happy. There was always a problem. She insisted on wasting our money and time on counseling. I get that it has its place, but I feel like it was unnecessary in our circumstance. My parents could've used it. Maybe then they wouldn't have divorced.

A sudden buzzing noise wakes me up from my little trance. It's kind of lovely. It's almost peaceful. Yet at the same time I want to cover my ears and run away.

It continues, starting to grow louder and more prominent. It becomes all I hear; all I can think of. It's becoming too much, yet I crave it.

Out of the corner of my eye I can almost make out an object on my driver's side mirror. I'm not sure what I see, or what I even want to see. My eyes race and focus on the mirror. The mirror is too dusty to make something out of it. I raise my left hand to wipe some dust off. As my hand reaches the bottom of the mirror a large moon-like object comes into view. My head quickly turns back to look. Yet my eyes stay closed. Do I want to know? I could ignore it all, focus on why I came in the first place. It's probably literally nothing, there's zero harm in looking. Finally, my eyes open and I blink again in disbelief. There is indeed a moon-like object glowing in the distant sky. It's slowly descending. It's not that far from me. What should I do? Do I go closer, or should I go farther away?

Looks like I don't have a say in the matter. My body stiffens. I just stand there in wonder and awe.

Once I look, I have to keep looking. I can't help but stare. The buzz controls me, forcing me to keep in place. My eyes locked on the object, I'm not blinking, I don't need to. It becomes all I see, all I can hear, all I can think of. Dexter is gone, the sphere is who I am now. It becomes a large part of who I am.

It grows, it consumes the sky around it. Is it drawing closer?

It's some sort of lunar craft, it must be, what else could it be other than an alien ship? Perhaps it is a foreign ship, perhaps this is the end. Not just for me but possibly the world.

I'm stuck, I'm trapped within my own body. My heart is beating at a million miles an hour, is this out of excitement, or perhaps fear?

I finally manage to snap out of my trance, and manage to mutter out a few words,

What the hell is that?

Chapter two

H oney, you have to get dressed!! I hate to yell at her, but she needs to get herself in order, she's eight years old no longer does she have the excuse of ignorance. Or at least to the same degree as before.

She freezes in the doorframe, she looks puzzled. As if she's pondering something deeply, Mom, why did they make Dad go away?

I can tell that I am wincing in anxiety, I had hoped that she wouldn't ask about the divorce until she was at least a teenager. I thought I had more time. Dad decided that he wasn't able to focus on the family, he had to take time for himself. I know it's a horrible way of explaining it but how else am I supposed to tell her that her father was a raging alcoholic?

So... he's on vacation? She's so innocent, the grin on her face, the sparkle in her eye, she doesn't deserve this. But the world is cruel no matter who.

Kinda yeah. I find myself smiling as I say that. Laughing feels good, I have been so upset for so long that even the lightest chuckle fills me with relief.

Before she can ask yet another intense question, I quickly think about a new subject to catch her attention, I heard that soon we might be able to go to the store again! Maybe even see your friends! Isn't that exciting?

She gasps immediately, she is filled with too much energy and excitement to respond. She was born in the middle of covid, it's 2028 and the virus is still keeping us locked up, while the rest of the world is slowly moving back to a normal life, we are trapped here in Australia. She has never known a social life, the only friends she has are my friend's children, even then though.

The way she talks, to not just me but others is concerning. Everyone wearing masks before her all her life truly has messed with her basic functioning.

To say that I am concerned for her is an understatement.

Every day is another hurdle, not only do I have to navigate through all the insanity but there is also another human dependent on me and me alone. I also must figure out ways to fill her days with entertainment; while watching the television is an option, I don't want to be THAT parent.

She appears to be occupied by some of her toys, well awesome that just leaves the question, what do I do now?

I'm unsure if it's from the boredom but I feel as if my brain has begun to play numerous tricks on me. It sounds like there's an airplane hovering over us, moving back and forth over and over again. No, it's not a helicopter, this sound is too much to be just a mere helicopter.

Seeing as I have nothing better to do I go out to poke my head outside, and sure enough I can see nothing above me, did it pass? No, it couldn't have, the noise is still present, then that begs the question, what is the culprit behind this noise?

It's probably one of them damn birds, you know in London there weren't emus and kangaroos, we didn't have bugs the size of a bowl, we had normal sized animals. The things I did for love, not only did I move away from the only home I've ever known, but I took my whole family with me, dragged them along to my new life.

Dad always hated it here, but mom supported me, forced him to come along. But when mom died from that blasted virus all that was left of him was a grumpy old man mourning and hating.

I almost feel bad for the man. Almost. If it wasn't for the fact that he was an abusive asshole my whole life then yeah, maybe I would pity the old man.

But I don't, in fact I genuinely hope that he outlives all his children, maybe then he'll feel something towards us other than pure hatred.

A beam of light hits me, it's reflecting off of the cars. The light is sharp, it pierces my retinas.

Now that I look at it, it would appear that the sky outside is almost brighter, in fact it seems to be much too bright out, the sky hurts my eyes immensely. The sun's shine is almost magical, there's something about this burning sensation that fills me with absolute awe and wonder. I feel like a child once again, finding joy in the small things of life.

But I must look away before my eyes burn off permanently. Besides, a call from an eight-year-old girl caught my attention. Mom! Mom!

What's up, what could be disrupting her? What is it dear? I know that it is more than likely nothing, but I must ask to be sure.

Couldn't we just call dad and ask him to come back? I bet he would say yes to me! She has a small frown growing, my heart is breaking.

What do I say? How do I answer such a question? She makes me feel horrible guilt, must I give in? Do I let her call her bastard father? Reluctantly I reach for my phone, Well, we can talk with him but, but you may not ask him to come back home, he has to uh, do it on his own. How would you like to talk to daddy?

YAY! She's jumping up and down now, her eyes scream pure joy.

I turn on my phone and bypass the lock, in my contacts I scroll until I find the name 'Your Asshole Ex' I sigh deeply and press the call option. Sophie is bouncing around asking questions that fade to the background. The phone is dialing, for a bit too long.

The buzzing continues until it stops, and Dexter's voice appears from the speaker, Hey this Is Dexter Bennet, if you're hearing this well, I'm not here at the moment. Call me back later if this call is actually important. Peace out.

Weird, he always picks up his phone. Well perhaps he is busy. Busy with what? We all know that he is stuck with the delusion that I want him back and that we'd work together, he'd pick up the phone immediately after seeing my name. I mean, I would love to have a better version of him back, but we'd never work, it's just a fairytale, a dream.

Mommy, why didn't Dad pick up his phone? Why doesn't he want to talk to me? She's so upset, holding back tears, quivering lips.

Well, I bet he is out driving, you know how much he loves his jeep! How about this we'll call him again and if he doesn't pick up, we'll try again tomorrow ok? And of course he wants to talk to you ok, you know that he loves you. I feel horrible right now, I love her so much that I'd give up my hatred for her father.

I dial him up again, I'm sure that he'll answer, if not I'll have to leave some sob story of a message.

It's dialing, it continues for what feels like an hour, that is until the devil's voice shouts out again with his obnoxious voicemail.

Shit. Something must be up, there is no way in hell