The Watch – Part 242:

(Tom’s perspective)

‘Help,’ the strange voice said. I can’t help. I can barely help myself. I’m sitting here, on the floor weak, exhausted, and for the first time in what felt like such a long while ago, alone. The moment I start not worrying about being alone, I wind up being the loneliest I’ve ever been, shattering all those other times before it. My clothes are drenched in sweat, my hair is so greasy and falling down into my eyes, and I can barely move. If that person wants help, as much as I would like to, I just can’t provide him with any.

The cell that I was in was damp, dark and smelt rotten. My eyes were now only adjusting to the light, or lack thereof, and I was able to finally see the scene that I was in. It was more or less the same cell that I was in, in my dream, but a lot worse. There was a bed, but I didn’t want to go anywhere near it as I could see certain unrecognisable stains smeared all over the sheets. I look to the other side and saw another bed, in just the same state. I would rather sleep on the floor, if I can get to sleep that is. I doubt that I would be able to. I’ll just sit here then. I can’t do anything else but sit here and wait. For what? I don’t know.

I’m struggling to differentiate between what is real and what isn’t. From what Dr Amanda told me, when I appeared in that alleyway, I was dreaming, and my body was here, being experimented on, but that doesn’t make any sense. I know it was real. I just know it. I can’t explain it because who can explain reality, but I know that it wasn’t a dream, because dreams can be explained.

Was anything real? All those people in the city, Tim and his people, all traffic… busses. Remember when I found it strange that those busses seemed to appear out of nowhere? I don’t believe it. I just cannot bring myself to believe that those busses appearing out of nowhere is a sure sign that I was indeed in a dream. There has to be another, perfectly rational explanation to all of that. There just has to be. But of course, I cannot think of one, and thusly I will always struggle to decide what is real and what isn’t.

Am I dreaming now? I would like to say that I’m not, but I can’t be too sure. The way I feel, the way things look, the way everything is, just isn’t enough to help me decide whether this is real or not.

‘Help,’ the stranger said again. I can’t help him. I can’t even see him to help him. And I’m too weak to move so that I can see him.

What if I am still dreaming? What does that mean? Where am I right now? I remember that I was in the alleyway when I was hit by those sleeping chemicals, and then the Taser. Could I be laying in the Police Station’s cell, imagining all of this? I was hit by a rather large dosage of those chemicals, so maybe I am just having a massive allergic reaction to them. Intense dreams could very well be one of their side-effects, especially with me who’s from another universe altogether. How would I know that I am dreaming? Can I force myself awake, or do I simply wait until I wake up naturally? I think that’s the best thing to do, but I don’t want to stay here any longer.

Wait, hang on… If I know that I am dreaming, does that mean this has turned into a lucid dream, where I am now able to control my actions and the scenery? Can I do that? I don’t know.

‘Help.’ I wish he would stop saying that. He must know that I simply cannot help him. I’m sorry to whoever is there, but I can’t help you. I really wish I could because you sound like you are in a lot of pain, but I’m sorry, I can’t help you.

I don’t think this is a lucid dream. Does that mean that this isn’t a dream? What if those chemicals forced me to dream, but are preventing me from lucid dreaming?

Can you feel pain in dreams? I know that you can feel emotions, but can you feel physical pain? If pain is all in the mind, and your dream is your mind’s eye, then doesn’t that give you the unfortunate allowance to feel pain. I’ve had many dreams where I’ve been in many situations where I would have felt a lot of pain if they were to happen in real life, but I’ve merely just woken up just before anything major happened, or it simply changed scene. What if we can feel pain in our dreams, but our brains simply don’t allow us to so that we can get a good night’s sleep? Those chemicals could be reacting badly to my body, causing me to feel pain, and a lot of it. I don’t know whether to believe that or not? It sounds airtight, but there has to be more to it than that, there just has to be.

‘Help.’ This isn’t a lucid dream. That much I do know. But I can’t tell if this is a dream or not. If it is, then I’ve never felt a more realistic dream in all my life…

And that is how it felt when I was dreaming. It felt so real. Now I’m just going around in circles. I need to rest, but I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when I close my eyes. Am I going to wake up in yet another situation? I don’t want it to be worse than this. I’m afraid that I won’t wake up, but what if I’m already awake.

‘Help.’

TO BE CONTINUED…

Thanks for reading

Antony Hudson

(TonyHadNouns)