The Dreams of William Hollis Allon --Part 1

The dreams of a person are very telling, no matter how fantastic, of that person's inner struggles, pain, ambitions, and triumphs. This is one of many dreams the William Hollis Allon can remember, one of many dreams that he carries with him through his li

            1985

William had to go to the bathroom. He untangled his legs and arms from the blue He-Man sheets and swung his short five year old legs over the side of his bed to the cool wood floor.

Pale gold mist flowed into his room from the open door, winding around his little feet and ankles, all the way up to his waist. The mist, silky and warm, slid off of his legs and belly as he walked into the hallway, soothing him with every step he took. When the lion appeared, it didn’t surprise or scare him; He’d seen him a thousand times before, in a thousand dreams; it was his lion. It padded out from the darkness at the end of the hallway; its golden body shimmered as it waded into the golden light and mist from the bathroom. As it was passing him, William let his hand float out and feel the soft bristles of the lion’s dirty yellow hair, a sensation that gave him goose bumps from his short-haired head to his mist-hidden toes.

The brilliant light of the bathroom clung the misty air like a explosion of gold caught in mid burst. When William slowly crossed over the bathroom’s threshold, the golden light’s intensity waned. He forgot about the growing pain in his bladder as he stopped in front of the mirror. He looked at his reflection for a moment, a blank, yet expecting expression, before the image dissolved into nothingness, into void, as if it had become tired of mimicking the real world. Where a reflected world of gold had stood a moment before, it was dark and colorless, taking nothing from William’s world and giving nothing away.

There was something. William couldn’t see it, but knew. There was nothing to see there in that world, but he could sense something.

Depth.

William could see the dark, the absence, the void, as if it were tangible. The Nothing was something and someplace. He reached out, knowing he could feel the non-existent. He wanted to. He had to. He must; A child’s desire.

 

He felt the cool slickness of glass on his fingertips and his heart dropped. Why? His small hand and fingers, spread flat on the mirror’s separating plane, pushed gently, then hard, then desperately.

Sadness crept into his heart. He wanted to go. Go there, to the Void, the Nothing. A tear ran down his smooth five year old cheek, as he began to pound the glass, the mocking, useless, infuriating thing that halted his need. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, warm tears of want streamed. An eternal moment passed before he felt something slide onto the top of his balled hand. It was small, soft, and delicate. He opened his eyes and there she was, looking at him from the depth of the absolute darkness, smiling eyes and lips.

 She was beautiful, the girl from the Void, but if you asked him what color her hair was, he couldn’t tell you; If you asked him what color her eyes were, he would simply shrug his shoulders as an awkward child would; If you asked him what her favorite color was or if she liked chocolate or vanilla or if she was even really there, he would roll his eyes around in their sockets, thinking. The one thing he did know is that he was in love and her name was Mary.

 

He took her colorless hand in his golden one, climbed up onto the stand alone porcelain sink from the toilet seat because he was too short, and crawled through the mirror into the happiness of the Void.

Mary smiled. William smiled, too, as he became Nothing, like Mary. She placed both of her small hands behind his head and placed the softest kiss William would ever feel in his life on his lips. He blushed and smiled wider than before.

With her, with Mary, he would never be sad, or lonely; he would never be disappointed, or hurt. He was five years old and he would be in love for the rest of his life. They walked, small hand in small hand, through the darkness, alone together for an eternity, happy.

Then the dots came.

Like they were colored on black paper, the dots were the darkest hues of purple, red, green, blue, and yellow. They invaded his vision from all sides before he could react, dulling his senses as they grew in intensity, but not brightness. Then, as quickly as they came, they left.

Mary?

He couldn’t feel Mary’s hand anymore. He couldn’t feel her near.

Mary?

All he could feel was the body warmed blue He-Man sheets on his legs and belly and the warm, soft pillow beneath his head.

Mary?  

He couldn’t see the darkness anymore; just sense it, the flatness, a true nothingness.  He put out his hand with which he felt the lion’s hair, but now only felt the air past the edge of his bed.

Mary?

A large tear grew at the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek.

Mary…

 

William Hollis Allon was five years old when he lost Mary. He never found her again, neither in our world or in his dreams.      

Author's Note

There's more to come. This is a constantly flowing edit, so any opinions and suggestions will be greatly appreciated.