![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
As always, Sonya’s dreams that night were unusually vivid. They pulsed with color and a life of their own. It was like she could reach out with her hand and grab the stuff there, and make it into whatever she wanted. And for a few moments, she did, the phantoms of other people, snippets of other voices, swirling around her, like they were asking to be found and seen.
She took a handful of blue and fashioned it into a chain of lights out of it, humming to herself as she did so. The voices around her faded in an out of the din. She had a book on lucid dreaming she had been reading, and while she wasn’t sure it was actually helping it did make it easier to focus on one or two things.
She was debating making herself a dream with a good looking guy, a beach and some drinks and see where the evening went from there. It would beat all the studying she had to do for finals the last week and a half. And she wouldn’t have to worry about getting knocked up, so it was a double bonus. Her search was interrupted by someone screaming for help. Sonya stopped for a moment. It was her dream. She could just ignore it.
But...
There it was again. It sounded so real. And terrified.
She turned and started towards the crying. The blue mists around her cleared, a white woman being held still by a man’s eyes, while his two friends laughed and posed her. There was something weird between the man staring the woman down. Sonya didn’t have any love lost for the white population of Los Angeles, but she had less love for would be rapists.
My mind goes weird places, she thought to herself as she started walking towards them. If she ignored it, she’d feel guilty when she woke up. She wouldn’t forget it - she never forgot her dreams. Sometimes, they seemed more real than her waking hours. Sonya could see the connection between the white girl - whose cries seemed to be internal now that she was paying attention - and the asshole in the middle.
As she walked towards them, he looked up and right at her, his eyes then confusingly darting around. The conversation with his posse was muffled, the other two were looking around, and she heard them call their friend crazy. Sonya grinned to herself, taking the cord that connected Jack Ass and his crying victim and reversed whatever he was doing, not knowing how she did it. Only knowing that it touched what she could touch, and as such was hers to fuck around with as she pleased.
“Boo, pandejo,” Sonya said, and the guy in the middle dropped, holding his head, screaming incoherently as his own trick was turned back on him. The girl got to her feet and turned tail and vanished into the blue mist in the ensuing chaos, her captors buddies trying to get him to tell them what was going on. One saying something about it being too close to dawn to give chase. It didn’t make sense to her, but she didn’t care.
She held onto the cord, her touch still funneling that terror back at the asshole in the middle until he dropped to the floor, his eyes fixed on her, his body twitching. She dropped it then with a sweet smile and turned around to walk away, humming to herself.
Time to find that beach and a boy.
She took a handful of blue and fashioned it into a chain of lights out of it, humming to herself as she did so. The voices around her faded in an out of the din. She had a book on lucid dreaming she had been reading, and while she wasn’t sure it was actually helping it did make it easier to focus on one or two things.
She was debating making herself a dream with a good looking guy, a beach and some drinks and see where the evening went from there. It would beat all the studying she had to do for finals the last week and a half. And she wouldn’t have to worry about getting knocked up, so it was a double bonus. Her search was interrupted by someone screaming for help. Sonya stopped for a moment. It was her dream. She could just ignore it.
But...
There it was again. It sounded so real. And terrified.
She turned and started towards the crying. The blue mists around her cleared, a white woman being held still by a man’s eyes, while his two friends laughed and posed her. There was something weird between the man staring the woman down. Sonya didn’t have any love lost for the white population of Los Angeles, but she had less love for would be rapists.
My mind goes weird places, she thought to herself as she started walking towards them. If she ignored it, she’d feel guilty when she woke up. She wouldn’t forget it - she never forgot her dreams. Sometimes, they seemed more real than her waking hours. Sonya could see the connection between the white girl - whose cries seemed to be internal now that she was paying attention - and the asshole in the middle.
As she walked towards them, he looked up and right at her, his eyes then confusingly darting around. The conversation with his posse was muffled, the other two were looking around, and she heard them call their friend crazy. Sonya grinned to herself, taking the cord that connected Jack Ass and his crying victim and reversed whatever he was doing, not knowing how she did it. Only knowing that it touched what she could touch, and as such was hers to fuck around with as she pleased.
“Boo, pandejo,” Sonya said, and the guy in the middle dropped, holding his head, screaming incoherently as his own trick was turned back on him. The girl got to her feet and turned tail and vanished into the blue mist in the ensuing chaos, her captors buddies trying to get him to tell them what was going on. One saying something about it being too close to dawn to give chase. It didn’t make sense to her, but she didn’t care.
She held onto the cord, her touch still funneling that terror back at the asshole in the middle until he dropped to the floor, his eyes fixed on her, his body twitching. She dropped it then with a sweet smile and turned around to walk away, humming to herself.
Time to find that beach and a boy.
