Dreamers

Where does one find the line between the story and the soul? Where do the words end and the life begin? How long is it, before the words flow together to create, not just a character, but a person?

And how long is it before we notice?

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A girl walks into the room.

She walks quietly; so small amidst the crowd it's almost impossible to tell she's there, yet with such an air of importance that you'd trip over your feet to get out of her way. No one notices her, too busy with their own life to pay attention to someone else's, but she doesn't mind. She is the eye in the storm, peaceful and calm amongst the roar of the crowd.

For a second, she stops, searching the crowd with a strange curiosity. At first you think she's seen you, but no; she was looking for something else. And for moment, the air around her blurs, bulges, swirling around her, distorting and twisting the world as if it was just an image reflected in a pool. She smiles, almost as if she's seeing something you're not, and reaches out towards the swirls; but in the blink of an eye, her smile fades, and the world returns to normal.

She continues on through the clatter of the lunchroom, dodging elbows and trays as she brushes past. The afternoon sun glints off the shining metal tables as she walks past. The chatter of teenagers distort, blend, melding into a single voice; soft and gentle, yet incomprehensible. Each step she takes a light, dreamy laughter is heard in the distance. The air seems to shimmer and you can almost see something in the distance-

But a person with much more important things to brushes past, and all is quiet amongst the bustle. She ducks out of the throng with a slight shove and moves towards a table that rings of familiar conversation and happy laughter. She lets out a happy sigh and walks towards the table, a smile on her face, and she is greeted with smiles, laughter and lunch.

She chats casually, some gossip about one of the teachers, something stupid a kid said, but no one seems to care. They're all waiting for something. Waiting for someone to free them.

"So, what did you dream?"

As soon as it's said, a glint of light flickers across their eyes. Instantly, sketchbooks are pulled out and jottings from past nights are crumpled out of pockets.

A door is opened and they take it, the excitement whirling around them as they delve into a place, not unknown, but foreign. The world around them is nothing; all that matters is the place beyond. Around their heads you can see wizards and swordsmen, dragons and battles, welcome back smiles and people who you've never met, yet know so well.

They are happy. And in that happiness you find something. Something.....more, something complete, something that fills your mind with everything you never beleived in and makes you think Yes, this is what I've been looking for.

But the bell rings and the magic ends. That hollow feeling you've never realised existed returns,invading every corner of you soul and you know they feel the same. They say their goodbyes and, their hearts racing just a bit faster than before, they depart.

The girl lingers for a second, as if she was reluctant to leave her sanctuary, then without a second glance, is gone. And as she leaves, she turns and sees you, her eyes burning through you like hot coals. She smiles at you, and you could almost swear her eyes flash red, before turning away, heading back to the reality, leaving you to wonder who she was.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, a tiny voice whispers the answer.

A Dreamer.

And you wake.