Kim hadn't been able to recall their dreams since early on in their childhood, and even then they had been hazy non-consequential things. Easily forgotten, rarely making much sense, usually having something to do with the video games they played or the stories their mothers would tell.
These dreams, though... they were different. Cold and wet and real... or at least, they felt that way.
Each time, Kim woke from them shivering. As though they really had been standing in the rain only seconds before. In one of the earlier ones, their sleeve had been ripped and- sure enough- when they had awoken that morning, the very same sleeve needed mending. After another, they had found dried mud smudged on their cheek and caked beneath their fingernails.
'Maybe you're sleep-walking,' Kim's mum had said, upon their mention of it. 'Lock your door tonight before you go to sleep.' And so they had.
They had and yet they still woke up early that morning with their hair damp and smelling of rain despite the fact that it hadn't even been cloudy the night before.
They decided, then, that it would be best to record the happenings. They moved their laptop from its place on their nightstand, cracked it open and started a fresh document on notepad.
dreams.txt
1
raining, always raining. eyes in the walls. some sort of creature laughed at me. it spoke in a language i could not understand. i tried to talk to it, but my jaw wouldn't move.
2
i tore my sleeve and woke up with it still torn.
3
still raining. i walked down an alley. it kept going and going and going and going. i don't think it had an end, i don't think it had a beginning either. i fell at one point. woke up with mud beneath my nails and on my face.
4
i think i heard my sister speak but i'm not sure. what did she say? i can't remember. i didn't see her. it was too dark. raining.
5
i realized i was dreaming this time. tried to change it. it didn't work, not like i wanted it to. i coughed up moths. when i woke up that morning, there was a dead moth on my pillow.
6
dreaming feels more and more real each night. i cut my hand and woke up with a scar in the same place.
7
why is it always raining?
raining, always raining. eyes in the walls. some sort of creature laughed at me. it spoke in a language i could not understand. i tried to talk to it, but my jaw wouldn't move.
- - - - -
2
i tore my sleeve and woke up with it still torn.
- - - - -
3
still raining. i walked down an alley. it kept going and going and going and going. i don't think it had an end, i don't think it had a beginning either. i fell at one point. woke up with mud beneath my nails and on my face.
- - - - -
4
i think i heard my sister speak but i'm not sure. what did she say? i can't remember. i didn't see her. it was too dark. raining.
- - - - -
5
i realized i was dreaming this time. tried to change it. it didn't work, not like i wanted it to. i coughed up moths. when i woke up that morning, there was a dead moth on my pillow.
- - - - -
6
dreaming feels more and more real each night. i cut my hand and woke up with a scar in the same place.
- - - - -
7
why is it always raining?
Kim stared hard at the document. Their fingers hovered over the laptop's keys and they bit hard down onto their lip as they tried to think of what more needed to be added. A thought struck them and tears welled in their eyes, only to be hastily wiped from existence.
dreams.txt
lee would know what to do.
They deleted the last bit, after a moment of quiet contemplation. They closed the laptop and laid back on their bed, dark eyes finding the old glow-in-the-dark stars their sister had insisted on placing upon their ceiling. Kim's chest ached at the memory of her bouncing on their bed in order to reach high enough to stick each one in its pre-determined spot. She'd been laughing, as she so usually seemed to do. Kim could hear her peals of laughter within their mind as easily as one might recall a string of numbers they'd committed to memory. It was a sound they'd never forget.