Sometimes I dream of places that don't exist.

I'm constantly haunted by a beach at the world's end, not just a place, but a time as well. It's an unknown world of emptiness, only inhabited by a single soul. Me. I've wondered ever since I've been seeing it what the place is or means. I've wandered that beach almost every night; it's almost a second home to me at this point. The beach has slow, small waves washing upon the shore, as if time itself was breaking. That's the first place I found among the mass of places in the dream space. See, dreaming is like another world in and of itself, most people are bound to one or two rooms they visit every night, and every now and again visit places that are comfortable in their mind. Usually these are rooms that are associated with events in the present that have happened to them, and so they pull upon these experiences and combine it in their own unique room. However, occasionally these people do the opposite of what they intended; the dream space is tricky. This results in "nightmares." These nightmares are essentially rooms they've never visited, or aren't supposed to be visited, thus activating an alarm in the brain, which results in sending one of your worst fears to get you out of that room at any cost. This whole process is quite remarkable; however, for someone such as me who is too curious for their own good, it's incredibly inconvenient. I never would have imagined that my gift would lead me to where I am now. All kinds of scientists have called me a strange phenomenon. My photographic memory and ability to see things beyond the normal person is much stronger than it should be. I mean a LOT stronger, along with this strange ability to be conscious in my dreams. Therefore, the memories and chambers of the dream space are much more visible for me, while others can't see it at all. I can easily pick out memories that I want to relive or fantasies I want to live out. All in my head. As a child, I thought everyone could do this, so I constantly talked to my parents casually about these rooms in my dreams, usually they'd just nod their head and consider it a weird dream about rooms I would have. That was until I began to constantly mention the rooms, and one day when my mom complained about a bad dream, I told her to simply not go into the rooms that looked weird. Confused, she asked me details about it, and I explained that I discovered that I only have nightmares when I try to open the rooms with chains on them. At first she thought I was joking, but after the same thing happened again, she thought it to be best to check me for some disorder. Next thing I know, at the age of 9, doctors' start scanning my brain and poking me with needles. It wasn't all that bad I guess, especially since only a handful of them seemed truly interested in it. Every weekend I was required to go to the psychiatrist. At first it was strange; the man would always bring up weird subjects and such. However, as I grew up, it began to be comforting, a place where I could freely express my thoughts, and where I could talk about my dreams without sounding insane. In fact, Doctor Bartholomew, who was my psychiatrist, became a close friend of mine after such constant treatment. It all became quite nice, until I turned 13 and I started to find myself in a room I'd never seen before. After the prompting of Bartholomew, who insists I call him Bart, I decided to overcome my fear of the vastness of the dream space and keep exploring unknown rooms. That was when I first found that timeless beach. On a side note, the reason I was afraid of the spaces in my brain, was due to several things that happened in the dream space and out. For example, one of the side effects of my conditions was a constant disorientation and visual confusion. The world outside my eyelids was constantly moving, seeing as the earth moves. However, for whatever reason, my eyes and body pick up this movement every now and again, resulting in me sometimes feeling nausea and disorientation. Also, during these spouts of confusion, my eyes adjust to objects strangely, resulting in me perceiving things as growing, and the shrinking, and then growing again whenever I close my eyes to help the nausea. It's an outright frightening experience, leaving me sometimes on the floor out of fear. There's a terrifying feeling about the experience, like the world is going to move on without you and leave you alone in space forever, with no vantage point. Or that everything will get so large that you are forever forgotten in a small crevice of your house. All together the feelings of aloneness that I experience during these fits are downright haunting. These fits have resulted in my love for my dreams, and my fear of the constant waking world that haunts me. Now they've gotten worse, to the point where I simply don't wish to open my eyes. I digress, this all leads back to the beach.

So, naturally next time I went to sleep, I stepped through the hallway of fantasies and past the archway that leads to the open courtyard in my head, where several locked doors are located. The first one however, for whatever reason, failed to be locked, although it was locked the last time I entered the courtyard. Naturally, urged on by Bart, I stepped up to the large black wood and put my hand on the doorknob. Knowing that I was about to experience one of my extreme nightmares, I closed my eyes and slowly slid the door open, resulting in a loud scraping sound of the door scraping along the floor. It was unexpectedly light and opened with ease after the scraping. At first all I saw was a pitch black room with tiny lights in all directions. Mystified, I stepped forward and walked through the doorway, not even noticing the light from the other room disappearing as I entered the new room. The whole sight was a beautiful one, and then everything began to move. It was like a version of my weird spasms, however much more beautiful. The lights became blurred as they flew by out of my vision. Next thing I know, I'm at the beach without time. The beach's constant waves lulled me into a calming stupor as I walk upon the shore. That day I walked the beach for as long as I could before waking up, not seeing and new scenery. An ocean lay in one direction, leading out past the horizon, and sand in the other direction, going on forever like a desert. After that night I told Bart of the place, and after much discussion we figured that the door unlocking was due to me opening up, and my willingness to overcome my fears. Therefore, we concluded that if we kept discussing the events of my life, I'd someday find out what was behind the other doors. I never did find out what was behind all of them.

Sometimes I dream of things I can't do.

Due to my creativity and love for the stars after dreams such as these, I eventually got into NASA, hoping to find my dreams out in the stars. I wanted to be an astronaut, and see the vast ocean of the universe for myself. However, shortly after I joined the program for astronaut training, NASA was cancelled, resulting in no more funding for space missions. Heart-broken and without a way to accomplish my dreams, I failed to see anything else I wanted to do, and was quite depressed for several days. Those days were when the second door opened in the courtyard. The giant green door covered in moss next to the beach door revealed a doorknob, where it had until then not had one. Putting my miseries aside for a while for the sake of adventure, I decided I had nothing more to lose, and opened the door, removing moss that was stuck to the bottom of the door. This door, unlike the other, was actually quite heavy; however, it was very quiet, especially compared to the other door. The moss felt soft in my hands as I pulled the door into opening. This time, a bright flash blinded me. After recovering from the light, a brilliant forest full of life was revealed, displaying the greenest plants that you can imagine. I'm convinced that the color was the perfection of green. It was, as people would appropriately call it, a paradise. But a paradise I can't begin to describe. Yet I didn't feel right there, like I wasn't ready to be there, something inside of me didn't sit right with it, so after that day I rarely went back. I primarily relied on comfort from the beach rather than the forest. Its slow waves had a way of sharing my sorrows and pain. After this vision, I was reinvigorated. I became determined to get to the stars, where maybe, just maybe, I could find something that would explain my dreams. Naturally, I went back to NASA and immediately tried everything I could to get a mission into space, for whatever reason I could find. Unable to achieve this, I began to get discouraged once again. However, I called Bart and asked him for his opinion. Strangely enough, he sided with me and called up some scientists of his. That's how I've come to be starting this project. A space ship built by a ragtag team of rejected scientists and astronaut. It's amazing what one can do when you put your mind to it with others to help. We're almost done, and I can taste the stars already. I've decided to record these events on my voice recorder, for others to listen to. To let them know not to give up on their dreams, because if they keep at it, one day they'll accomplish it.

And sometimes, I dream of darkness.

Why do these words keep sounding in my head? It seems like all along I've heard them, since the beginning, deep in my dreams. The words come from the last door now, even in my dreams. We've come so close to the finished product, in fact, I'm soon to go up into space. I'm afraid however, that I might go insane before then. I must keep my sanity, for the sake of my own sanity. Tomorrow we go through another test of the engines and some other details. I've fixed up my astronaut suit, capable of keeping me warm and providing oxygen for a fair amount of time. Other than my sanity slipping, I appear to be closer than ever to my dreams. I can feel the stars in my hands as I float by. I'm simply standing on the ground though, not floating. So why do I feel this floating feeling? My body has lost its own gravity. Without much else to do, I anxiously await for the next day. The last time I spoke was about a month ago, and since then we've fixed everything up to be piloted by none other than myself. Tomorrow is the big night. After informing Bart of my sanity situation, he was extremely reluctant to allow me to take the trip. However, realizing that I would go despite his recommendations, he thought it useless to voice them. So tomorrow I will be in space, finally seeing the reasons for my dream. I had an unusually bad stumble today from my brain's side- effects; however I'm certain it won't affect the trip. Tonight I'm determined to see the stars.

But no matter what I dream,

I'm always awoken by cruel reality. I dream of the same thing every night, well, not really night, since there is no day or night while I float here. With nothing to do as I wait slowly for my fate to come, I constantly dream of the life as I wish it could have been, if only I wasn't sent on that rocket. In fact, in every single dream, Bart is always there, a part of my subconscious. He always tries to persuade me from the trip, but I never listen to him. Each time, forever having to realize my same mistake. Sometimes my life changes in my dreams though; it doesn't always having the same details. Sometimes I stay with NASA and simply complete the mission, other times what I just explained happens. These dreams of course include that timeless beach, a forest of paradise, and the same locked door that I can't open. Until now I've always wondered what was behind that door and what each place was. I've finally realized its secrets; only on the verge of death has it become evident to me. This is because only on the verge of death am I open to it, and thus the door open to me. Along with the third door, my mind has realized the meanings of the other two. Finally, I've found some peace. I see one final thing in my future here, seeing as my life at NASA has been a failure. And as I drift through the darkness, and close my eyes for the final time, I embrace that last journey of mine. Death.