Dream Of Me

He'd use the stiff back of the chair to crack his aching spine, before raising himself up and out of it to walk.

Marcus took a few hesitant steps forward, his boots digging into the crushed grey carpet below him. Though his feet felt mushy, as if he couldn't even move correctly, the staple of any dream, you barely have control over yourself.

His eyes moved from corner to corner of the room, taking in every detail.

A line of drab chairs were organised on each side of the lengthy yet cramped hallway like room.

His yellowed irises stared deeply towards the plain brown door at the end of the space.

Pivoting his neck around nervously, he looked behind him, simply more pale yellow plastered wall, it was a dead-end that way.

The room hasn't had anything change physically since the last time I came, except for the voice, of course.

Marcus's string of dreams began around a year into his time at Centralis Academy, almost exactly halfway through his studies. It was unknown to him what the catalyst was, they just randomly manifested.

They'd always occur every four months without fail, on the last night of the fourth month, even if the date of the month ending was the 29th as opposed to the 30th on it's last cycle.

In his three times of experiencing this dream, it would always play out as such: He'd wake up to find himself sitting down, a scrunchy and unintelligible gargle of words would emit from out of the source-less intercom, only chanting coherent words every ten seconds or so, however this would be limited to only three phrases. 

Star born.

Spacer.

Safety.

He could move around freely in the room, but the door at he end could not be opened, no matter how much force was applied to it, he had even tried charging and ramming against it on his third time here, to no avail.

This list of words plagued his mind ever since his first dream, he could remember every little detail of it after he woke, cementing it's place as no average imagining of his.

Marcus believed the words to have some inherent and deep meaning pertaining to his future, so he grasped the idea of becoming a Spacer with both hands from that first bizarre experience.

But now it had turned even stranger.

My last dream was only two weeks before Graduation, meaning this one is far under due to happen, the only conclusion I can draw is that it's due to my public desire being expressed to finally undergo becoming a Spacer. 

That voice too, it's tone was so much clearer, it even spoke in a full sentence this time... I suppose I should follow it's directions. 

He would finally discover what laid behind that door.

His sluggish steps haphazardly carried him to the front of the door. He squinted in anticipation, exhaling sharply before gripping the silver handle of the door with his right hand.

A turn of the handle downwards, the ancient wood of the door groaned as though it had not been opened in many years, which was partially true, at least in Marcus's view.

His eyes peered into the disappointingly small room, it only looked to be about 10 square metres. 

However, as moments passed, his mind suddenly filled the holes that were the details of the room as he observed everything there with the flickering of his eyes.

Directly in the corner of the room, a small potted fern plant was placed on the floor, the only object in the room as far as he could tell, apart from one other thing, the main element of the otherwise bland space.

A dark brown, varnished study desk, embossed in various patterns and designs which ran up it's legs and sides dominated the middle of the space, atop it lie one of the oldest pieces of technology Marcus had ever seen.

The stained whitish yellow object on the table was a cordless telephone, it's origins must have dated back not to the previous century, but the one before that. 

An obnoxious digitised ringing suddenly emanated out of the antique white slab, someone was calling.

Marcus hesitantly reached for the cordless phone, which rested on the larger box that had various bulky and grey buttons all over it. 

The phone detached from it's holder as he held it up to his ear, with a flurry of sounds beginning to cast themselves from out of it.

The incessant and grainy noise communicated a few clear words.

"Set... to... speaker..." 

"Put... antenna... up..."

Marcus nodded, as if the person speaking was actually in the room, extending a sliding metal pole on the side of the main box upwards until it stood tall and straight.

He then pushed the grey button with a nearly scratched off speaker icon on it.

It was lucky that he took historical technology classes for extracurricular during his school stint in order to amass enough credit to get into Centralis, otherwise he would have been lost on what to do.

As soon as he had placed the cordless receiver upright on the table, a crisp, clear voice resounded out.

"Hello, Marcus." The voice belonged to a female, although her inflection was slightly off, making her seem more akin to a distant spirit echoing out, her words in some parallel world.

Marcus furrowed his eyebrows, 

"Who are you?"

He was too astonished to ask any roundabout questions, he had to solve this mystery as bluntly as possible. 

"Safety." She says with a pause, her voice sounding like it was cascading through a thick veil, yet appeared as clear as ever out of the speaker.

"Is this to do with becoming a Spacer?" He continues his line of questioning.

"Of course, haven't I been telling you from the beginning?" Marcus couldn't comprehend any emotions the voice portrayed, every vowel and syllable that poured from her sourceless mouth was a calming and neutral force that seemed to put him completely at ease.

"I'm finally going to do it, tomorrow I apply." He speaks to the phone proudly as if it is his own mother, the kind and gentle tones of 'her' words certainly mirror a motherly presence.

"You really are going to make yourself anew, aren't you."

The utterances from her disembodied voice brushed aside any anxiety held about the changing nature of the dream tonight, in fact he was glad it changed. 

"Don't get me confused, I'm only your dream, an extension of your imagination and expression, you're just me doing a good job at soothing yourself." If he could picture the face behind the words being expelled from the phone speaker, she would definitely have a gentle grin on her face at this moment. 

My own dream, perhaps... then again, perhaps not. 

Marcus didn't hold any thoughts that his dream was simply unextraordinary, that there wasn't more to it. Not after experiencing it so clearly, and in such specific cycles.

"Do I have anything to be afraid of?" He wanted to weigh up a silly and ambiguous question to the telephone in order to soothe himself further.

"Of course." The female voice responded very seriously.

His heart plummeted. 

"The whistling man." 

The yellow pastels and buzz of the dream evaporated as his skin met the warm and cosy temperature of his waking room, he sat in bed upright with a bolt of movement.

"What?" He exclaimed breathlessly.

Marcus shook his head, holding his hair tightly in clumps with his left hand as he gazed around his room, looking for any oddities that might still indicate that he was in a dream.

His lungs lost their tenseness as he could breath easily again when he noticed no such anomalies, Marcus's eyes darted to his holo-tablet, extending his arm out to grab it in order to flick it on, displaying the time.

It was 9 AM. Breakfast in his house was around this time without fail, especially on a Saturday. 

Marcus arose from bed, his head was still a little hot and flustered from the dream, he wiped some sweat from his brow as he made his way out into the hallway and towards the bathroom.

He could hear the clanging and sizzling coming from the Kitchen downstairs, his mother and father seemed to be in dialogue with each other.

I hope they're not talking about me...

Marcus strolled into the bathroom, quickly completing his routine of a short shower, shave and brushing of his teeth.

There was one heavy thought that he couldn't shake from his head.

What did that phone tell me before I woke up?

Marcus cleared out of the bathroom, noticing his little brother in the hallway right outside the door, looking at him with a rather annoyed expression.

Isaac pondered for a moment before spouting. "Why'd you spend 5 minutes in there without making a sound?" 

"I was on my holo-tablet." Marcus made up an excuse on the spot whilst waving the small stick around mockingly.

It's lucky I always bring the tablet into the bathroom with me by instinct.

But I was seriously stuck in thought for such a long time, just based around one silly little thing?

Was it just that consequential?

He passed by his younger brother as Marcus trudged down the stairs with heavy footfall.

"Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes, so just be patient Marcus." Catelyn responded to the fact her son had come downstairs. 

A pleasant waft of bacon ran it's course through the bottom floor of the house, as though it had reached into every nook and cranny it could of the space it was given.

His father was in the living room, sitting slouched on the sofa, his rough face was glued to the flat luminescence of the holographic largescale screen which plastered itself on the main wall of the room, it could pick up signals from Pluto.

"Come here." His voice was a tad hoarse, as if he was ill.

Marcus said nothing as he approached, sitting on the couch at the far end, facing the rugged, built man that his father was.

"Yes?" 

The young man indicated for his father to speak his mind however he wanted.

"I've been searching this morning, here's the route to the Spacer Department of the Agency." He tapped his index finger on the activating holo-screen of his tablet. Transferring a visible piece of light straight into Marcus's device.

A notification popped up, indicating the exact location of the Spacer building, it seemed to be completely separate to the Centralis main agency center, which was located in a space scraper.

What's with the sudden change of heart, or is it?

Marcus was taken aback, but then snapped back to lucidity when he saw a silent grief that clung to the usually grizzled man's face. 

"You know very well why I'm against this entire plan of yours, so don't let me ruminate over it, because I'm just getting more proud of you as my boy who wishes to protect the Congregation." He pinched his eyelids shut with two of his fingers in frustration.

"I'll still be spending a little bit of time here, supposedly, so I won't give you a chance to think over what I'm doing, because you'd definitely turn to my side in that scenario." Marcus grinned to alleviate some of the stress faced by his father, but it obviously did little good.

"Breakfast's ready!"

The wife and mother's gentle voice rang out through the household, which to Marcus, mirrored that soothing and ethereal voice he had heard in his dreams.

Isaac rushed downstairs in a heartbeat, seamlessly moving to the dining table in a matter of seconds. 

All meals in this house were eaten together, even in this age of technology and ever decreasing interconnectedness.

Marcus sauntered on over, his father, Frank following behind, and they all sat down to chow on the delicious plates of breakfast dispersed out onto the table. 

It was a steaming pile of bacon with pancakes and thick maple syrup drizzled over top, the sweet and savoury components of the meal coalesced together so that they could create heaven on a plate.

"Thanks for the meal."

The two corners of his mouth turned upwards as he said this, he knew this could be one of his last days enjoying food with his parents, even if one of them was miserable.

Marcus once again scoffed the steaming food into his mouth until his plate was completely clear of anymore possible sustenance. 

He patted his belly in exaggeration, before going up to his room in order to pack some essentials for the trip to the Spacer building, namely, his certificate.

He held the laminate slip in his hands, his eyes closely observing the small details of writing and terms on the sheet. 

Marcus began to outwardly manifest.

"These words are what decides the direction of my life, I'm praying that it's in a good way."

Although he didn't believe in that malarkey, it never hurt to try, just in case.

After his little superstitious session, he slipped the certificate into a white bag with various spacious pockets and slung it around his shoulder. 

Even though his suspicions about his dream had rung true, he didn't feel apprehensive, rather, the answers the mysterious telephone gave him only drove him further when it told him that becoming a Spacer was 'safety' to him, it was as if mental strings pulled him forwards, uncaring of whether he wanted to stop or not. 

He slinked down the stairs, being greeted by the sight of his parents, all wearing adorned masks of happiness, except his father, who left his true feelings on show.

"Promise you'll come back?" Isaac said, almost sounding like a dependent infant despite the fact he was twelve.

"I'm not going just yet, this is just to register, I might still not get in." 

Marcus would chuckle, before ruffling the young boy's hair. 

"Be safe honey, your father told me that the route you need to take runs through a portion of the undercity." 

Catelyn's worries were quickly waved off by Marcus.

"Don't worry, I'll find the safest way through, I have two years of combat training to support me as well you know." His father nodded in bemusement at that last part of his statement, cracking a little of his gloominess.

The door slid open as he swiped his print, and when he sauntered on through, it shut quietly behind him.

"Let's hope this all runs smoothly..." 

Perhaps he had just jinxed himself by saying it, but he was sure the manifestations would keep him safe from all of that, if either bad luck or good luck even existed that is.