Of Silverfish and Dreams

Let me tell you a story, and this is how is all began: With little Tom Gray, his mind faraway, looking up at his dear old man. Mr. Gray gazed back at his son with concern in both he and Mrs. Gray’s eyes. This was not the first time Tom had tripped. According to him, he had been distracted, but to them it was obvious, his mind was far gone.

‘It was only a little while,’ thought young Tom, ‘I wanted to visit that dream again. No harm there.’

To Tom, it seemed perfectly harmless to daydream.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shuffle. Shuffle.

His feet dragged along, as he headed towards the tall pink form of his school. School was mundane, teachers were monotonous and homework was the ultimate evil.
He’d rather be spending the time sleeping and re-visiting those fantastical dreams of his. He wasn’t addicted or anything, of course not. He was merely trying to have some fun, harmless fun.

The sound of crunching gravel suddenly stopped. A curious sight paused his step, one that didn’t seem quite right. That is, unless a huge bug with an even larger head was a common affair for you.

Tom cracked a big grin and ran over right away, for he loved insects and their curious ways and even more curious were this one’s mannerisms. It stopped as Tom skid to a halt before him, politely nodding and offering it’s name.

“Fish is the name. Silver am I,” he rumbled. And indeed his coat was a lovely silver hue.

“But Fish you are not“, Tom cleverly answered, earning a withering glance from the affronted gentle-bug.

“Not those scaled, flippety-flopping things, certainly not,” he harrumphed before continuing his slow pace through the leafy woodland floor.

“Why’s your head so big?” Tom asked.

“Because I have a big brain,” came the answer.

“Why do you have such a big brain?” Tom asked once more.

“Well that is a stupid question. Books are my diet. It’s hard not to learn anything when you’re staring at them all day,” a tart reply followed.
Tom nodded smartly at the perfect reason behind the ludicrous situation.

“Where are you headed then, Mister Silver?” he queried with the unabashed curiosity that only children knew.

Here, Fish’s eyes glinted with what we’ll assume to be amusement.

“Why, to Somnium, my dear boy, the land of dreams.”

Even mentioning a trip to a candy shop could not have made Tom more excited, and it also confirmed his suspicions. This really was just another dream, perfectly harmless. He jumped with enthusiasm, crying gleefully,

“Oh, bring me there!”

The silverfish chuckled, “Just follow me. It’s but a short distance away…”

And so, our boy and the gentle-bug Silver Fish made their way along a long-forgotten path through the woods. Finally, they reached a rather steep cliff at the edge of the forest. A heavy mist had blanketed the area, making the foot of the cliff indiscernible. Who knew how far the plummet was…
The silverfish nudged Tom towards the edge, as his other arm reached into his coat and drew out a small black umbrella,

“Go on, quickly! “

He seemed a bit rushed, though Tom didn’t seem to notice nor care. He was too preoccupied with the sight of the sheer drop. It was intimidating, surely, but Tom reminded himself that this was just a flight of his imagination.

He looked over to Fish, drawing a questioning glance from the latter.

“What, what is it?”

“Well…“ he said as his companion looked on intently, “Why do you get the umbrella?”

Fish let out a breath and rolled his eyes before abruptly grabbing Tom’s arm and throwing him off the precipice. Tom’s mouth hung open, but the cry of surprise died in his throat as he plunged downwards, through the mist as it swallowed him into its milky white depths. The air was heavy and he seemed to slow down in his descent. He gazed around in wonderment. It seemed like a scene right out of the story book paintings.

A panorama of the most delightful things faded in and out of the mist. Scenes of endless flowerbeds and flowing little rivers, candy cane trees and liquorice grass, a world where toys came alive. It was as though he was looking into other people’s dreams.

Then, he caught sight of Fish, slowly making his way down, one hand holding onto the umbrella tightly, while another gripped the lapels of his coat. All the way down, he was grumbling to himself about something. Soon, he found himself standing on some sort of cloud, except for the fact that it was solid. 'Strange,' he thought to himself. Gazing up, he was once again stunned.

All those paintings and tales of lands made of clouds and rainbows? They paled in comparison to this, Wonderland. Masses of white, fluffy buildings stretched further than the eye could see, but peculiarly, there was naught a soul on the streets but the two of them. Fish was oddly quiet and solemn, in a way, as he watched Tom approach one of the buildings, pushing his way through the doors.

"I wonder what's in here..." said Tom, more to himself than the silent Fish.

An empty hall met his gaze, at first.

"It's...empty." said Tom, a little disappointed as he had expected something amazing to be there, like perhaps a dragon or a room made of buttons.

"What? Empty?" came Fish's surprised voice.
Then, after closing the door behind him and putting his monocle in place, he scowled once more,
"Of course it isn't, you silly boy. I think you may be in need of some spectacles."
He gestured to the vaguely visible grey lines on the white-washed walls.
"Look closer."

On closer inspection, Tom saw rows of glaringly white doors on each side of it. Tom placed his finger on one of the doors, the finger fitting snugly into the small hole in the middle. Hearing no opposition from Fish, he pushed his way into one. He was stupefied at the sight that greeted him.

Trees fifty feet high and tropical birds of the most wonderful colours, hidden behind a white door, located in the hall of a cloud building; it was a very conspicuous change of scenery, but strangely, as Tom ventured further, none of the inhabitants seemed to notice him.

“This is the land of dreams. All of these are dreams. They cannot see you, hear you, be touched by you or changed by you, yet,” the silverfish explained, before suddenly clapping two of his hands, the resounding sound echoing as the very landscape of the room shifted into a plain, white room, the floor appearing to be made of some transparent material.

Tom looked around wildly before turning to his friend,

“What is this?” he asked, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing at his insides.

“Why… this is what you wished for: to be able to stay in dreams. Forever,” Fish drawled with a smirk of satisfaction on his face.

“What are you talking about?! This is all a dream and I’ll wake up when mum comes to get me out of bed” , but even as he said that, he doubted his own words. He looked at Fish, quite upset by the sudden change in attitude,

“Get me out of here! I want to go back! This isn’t fun anymore!

“Ha!”

Suddenly the giant silverfish was mere inches from his own petrified face, his mandibles clicking angrily,

“You wanted to leave the cares of the world for the fantasy of dreams, so here you are, you conceited little brat! It’s you dreamers that make our workload so much heavier.”

He was almost too afraid to ask, though the question lingered in his head. There were others? Where were they?

~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. and Mrs. Gray gazed down sadly at the prone form of their little Tom, his small chest slowly rising and falling, looking like he was merely sleeping, if it were not for the bandages wrapped firmly around his head. Someone had found him lying by the foot of a steep cliff, severely injured but still remarkably alive.

However, the impact of the fall had left him in a coma. They only hoped that he would awaken from it soon; perish the thought of what they would have to do should his condition continue.

~~~~~~~~~~

Silver Fish clapped his hands once more, and the floor simple fell away into gleaming shards, each reflecting different dreams, some familiar to Tom.

“Do you think dreams just happen? That they appear, so perfectly put together in the minds of people?” Fish’s voice echoed around him, then, he appeared beside Tom, taking in Tom’s fear with relish.

Everything was pitch black around them. It was a void, empty of any sound, sight, or feeling. Just as the silverfish’s eyes were at that moment.

“I was sent to fetch you and bring you here. Don’t even hope of leaving.”

“Why me?!” Tom shouted in his mounting fear.

“Don’t think yourself special. It’s not just you. People like you, with their heads in the clouds and their minds faraway, creating problems for hardworking people. A form of poetic justice, I say,” Fish replied.

Then, horrific screams echoed through the achingly empty space, reverberating against invisible walls. The very sound sent cold waves through Tom’s body, but then, he saw them. Sluggish, grey forms rose up from the shadows, crying out his name in their hideous tongue.
Tom. Tom. Tom….

He ran, as fast as his little legs could carry him, he tried to get away from their wretched moaning, he flew by distorted, white-framed windows, all depicting scenes of those things.
They pushed and pulled large cloud bricks that seemed a lot heavier than they appeared; some were in special rooms, meticulously forming each little detail of the dreams, all of them slaving under some unseen, omnipotent force, this was how dreams were really made.

“And now you shall join them, straining and toiling in this realm for as long as people dream. Even when your body is broken and gone, you will linger .”