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The Dreamer
by Beatrice Cochran
06/05/12
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“He wants to see you immediately, Caleb.”
Do you know the reason why he wants to see me, Michael?”
No, Caleb. I just deliver the news, remember? His reasons are for him to know and you to find out. So I suggest you better stop asking questions and go find answers from the only one who can give them to you”, said Michael with a little twinkle in his eyes.
“All right I shall go find out what he desires with me,” Caleb replied as he stood up from his comfortable chair, frowned a little and headed towards the meeting hall.
He was a little nervous and he knew he was being a bit fatuous. He knew he could always go to the Master and talk to him about anything, he was his father, but like most fathers, the Children feared him out of respect and adored him out of love that surpassed any other.
As he went into the meeting hall, he thought of all the questions he would ask his father. When he entered that hall of divinity, he was always astounded by all the bright colors that met his eyes at once. Most of the time the light was so bright he had to turn his eyes away for a few seconds. The Hall was filled with light and life. The elders sat in one big circle worshiping him who had created everything. Around him there were was constant activities. Day and night it continued ,people in the millions coming to the Master to ask questions, to pray and worship him.
Caleb watched them from the corners of his eyes. As he entered the Hall, all eyes turned on him looking at him and searching his young soul. Then slowly they turned to the Master to speak.
Caleb went and knelt down his eyes searching the eyes of his father. His father turned and looked at him searching his young heart. Young Caleb’s heart was a heart that even though he could not recall, a heart had known a lot of pain and suffering.
“My Son, thank you for coming to see me this morning. It is always morning here Caleb thought to himself. The father smiled. I am about to ask you to do something that will make you feel uncomfortable. I know she let you go and I ask that you return to her and show her the Light. She has been close to me from the time she was young, dedicating herself to me in prayer and worship. But she has allowed the Deceiver to come in and destroy that heart that was once pure and noble. It still has the potential of becoming so much more, of turning many hearts back to me. But she like many of them have given up hope. Instead of living a life of goodness, and love to me, they have let the Deceiver creep in and fill them with lies. Do you understand what I am asking of you, Caleb?”
“Yes, I think so I stammered.”I had been so focused I barely knew he had managed to get me up from my kneeling position. Now I found myself walking in the garden alone with him. Everything was perfect here. It was my home and I loved it. On the opposite side from where we walked, I watched the Master interact with the other children, tickling them and laughing on the warm grass. He was really and truly God. But when I walked with him I knew he was tentative to me just as much as he was with the younger children.
“How will I go to her father?, I asked surprising myself. As a human perhaps? He looked down at me a little sad and I could not understand his sadness. And then he smiled.
“No, Caleb. She responds to dreams. You must go to her in a dream. As a young man. Michael will prepare you. She has forgotten dreams from reality. She is so hurt that the only way she knows how to deal with the pain is through dreaming up some fantasies in which her painful realities had never happened. She must know the truth!”
Yes, father. I will go to her immediately. When I turned around Michael was right there besides us. It was the last thing I remembered before finding myself in another world.

The Dreamer
Chapter One: The Dreams
The dreams began again and this time they were vivid than ever. The dreams always terrified me yet at the same time there was a part of me that willed them to keep recurring. If I was honest with myself, I think some part of me desired for the dreams to continue because in the fantasies of the dreams I found my reality. I am not really sure what is real and what it is not anymore. It all feels like a jungle, a jungle in which I am hopelessly lost and the more I try to find my way out the entangled I become. We have all at some point in our lives experienced that feeling that we are dreaming. What if reality is in the fantasy of our dreams? In dreams we experience fear, excitement, and all those emotions associated with being human. In dreams we have the power to use our imagination for excellence ambitions or evil and to be whatever we want.
The only limit we have in our dreams is the limit of our imaginations. We were encouraged to use our imaginations, but we were warned never to let our dreams control us too much. We were controlling our dreams, they were not controlling us. We were told to dream happy thoughts. So much for happy thoughts I thought to myself shaking my head. These are the feelings I faced as I got on the plane. I was afraid of myself and the dreams my mind was capable of. I wanted nothing more than to wallow in self pity. But there was no room for people like me. There was no room for people who were so capable of dreaming such horrible dreams. What I now felt surpassed self pity. Was it shame; was it all my numerous lies and deceits? There’s I really believe, no forgiveness for people like me who let their dreams control them. I tried to cry, I tried to let all my countless emotions carry me away by deceiving myself that perhaps in my tears I would find some relief for letting something that should have been a fantasy become my excruciating painful reality. It was pain flourishing behind my forced smiles.
If the other dreamers knew what I had done would they have pity for me? Or would they laugh at the girl who let her dreams control her? It seemed to me that the other dreamers all were in control of their dreams. They carried no shameful secrets and their personal lives were nothing more than eternal bliss. Was I the only one with this big secret? Were there others out there who masked their dreams with smiles and laughter and while inside they screamed for help like I? Maybe I was the only one who cried for help. But my cries were swallowed up by the happy dreamers. So I made up my mind that it would be better to be a part of the dreamers and to forget all that I had done. I found it insanely easy to let my imaginations control my reality. And so I made up my mind to never let that nightmare surface again. There were somethings better let in their small, dark corners. I hid my dream in the back of my mind because I had no desire whatsoever for it to ever become part of my reality.
“Miss, I can tell that you are a deep thinker.” I snapped away from my thoughts quickly planting a smile on my face. The man who addressed me was a handsome man perhaps in his early twenties.
“What are you thinking about? I mean whatever it is that has your mind so occupied must be very important to you.”
I looked outside the small window trying to get a glimpse of the now fading city of Nairobi. There was no remorse in me leaving this place. I was glad to be going home to the States. The memories I had made during the last five years in Kenya could only be described as bittersweet.
“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude but I don’t feel comfortable sharing my feelings with a complete stranger. I hope you can understand.”
“Of course I understand. It’s just that you looked very troubled. And I like to help troubled people. Especially troubled young people like you.”
I choose to ignore that last comment hoping that he would get the hint that I did not wish to speak to anyone during the whole flight. It is not that I hated talking to people. Infact, I loved to talk. I was different from most people. I enjoyed talking to complete strangers.
“Well, at least indulge my curiosity by telling me your name. I mean that is if you don’t mind.”
The man was getting on my last nervous. Could he not tell that that I wanted to be let alone to escape to my thoughts?
“My name is Rose.” I said simply hoping that would shut him up. I could see a thousand other questions churning in his head so I quickly turned to face my small window pretending to study something outisde. I saw nothing more than darkness. By now we had already climbed several thousand feet. The night sky was pitch black.
After several minutes, the seat belt light went off and the stewardess announced that we were free to use the lavatories or stretch our legs. Our flight to London England would take ten hours maybe longer depending on how much turbulence was in the atmosphere.
When I finally turned to look at my neighbor I saw that he had fallen fast asleep.
Gosh I wish I could sleep so soundly, I thought to myself. The more I kept looking at him, the more I was aware of something completely different from this man. He did not dream. He smiled in his sleep. How strange I thought to myself.
He simply slept on undisturbed as if his seat was as comfortable as his bed. I could not understand it. The seats on the planes I always thought were uncomfortable. Even the small pillows they gave us did not help a whole lot.
I continued to look at him. He was exceptionally handsome. His beauty was almost… well how should I describe it? Unearthly. He had curly black hair which graced his majestic head. The stranger’s nose and mouth were perfectly structured. I had not paid attention to the color of his eyes. But his eyelashes were long and jet black. It seemed like someone had taken exceptional pains and time to manufacture him. He looked manufactured. I could only imagine that his teeth were perfect as well. He wore simple blue jeans. It did not scream money nor did his clothing scream poverty. He was probably middle class. The shirt he wore was the whitest I have ever seen.
The collar was raised up. Two of his buttons at the top were unbutton. The typical dress fashion of today’s youth somebody had decided looked cool. I wondered if he wore saggy pants. I doubted it. I scanned him up and down noticing for the first his immense height.
The man was tall. If I had to guess from his posture on the seat which he slumbered on, I would have guess that he was at least six and half feet tall. I could not see his feet. Perhaps they reached all the way to the front seat but maybe not because his neighbor might have said something by now surely. People flying to their respective destinations tended to be up tight when it came to personal space. I looked at the man who sat in front of the stranger. He was snoring and dreaming oblivious to the protruding feet.
A closer inspection at his complexion said he was definitely of mixed origins but more of white. His hands which rested on his armrest told more about him than his clothing did.
The man had never done a day’s worth of work on his life. His hands were slender and beautiful. I was embarrassed with my own hands so I quickly hid them. What a shame I thought to myself. I liked to see men with calloused hands. I found it extremely masculine.
Most girls even older women would fall in love him immediately swooning and fainting like cheerleaders at football game. I saw he was handsome but that was as far as it went. I had fallen in love ago and I had vowed to never fall in love.
What had I gotten in return by falling in love with him? Nothing more than a broken heart. They said that time heals all wounds. Well, that might be true for some women and men but for me, I was in love once and I would never love anyone again. Perhaps I was being silly with all my pathetic speculations.







If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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