_Four_ He reaches his hand into the sphere before him, twirling his fingers as if he were strumming up and down a guitar. Some would find the initial discomfort strange, but he still enjoys how it feels. The initial plunge into the psyche feels like reaching his hand into a bin of rice and beans and slime and mud all at once. Then, his hand is lodged, his soul is cold from toes to spine, and the eyes of the little boy before him spark open. The collection of the dream begins. _Three_ “You can’t keep doing this, though. You know that, right?” “I can’t stop. Dad, it’s like someone else has a … a string on me, right here on my forehead! It pulls me this way.” “Cut the string.” “It’s not that easy. I have to collect. I have to bow to the nostalgia. I need the dreams, and they need me.” “You make no sense sometimes, Michael. Actually, most of the time. I wish your mother were here to listen to this. I can’t listen to it anymore. Go home.” _Two _ He wades past the unicorns and grassy knolls of childish wonder until he sees what he came for: a tall, slim figure in the distance. Its back is turned, but he knows exactly what that face looks like. One of the first faces he ever saw in this life, and a face he hopes he never has to see again. The fact that he’s dead is not enough; he wants him gone from manifestations of memories. Decades of trauma. Only, when the man turns towards him, Michael falls to his knees like a child all over again. His father laughs at the crumpled shape of his son, slowly at first and then all at once. The forest dreamscape around them collapses into red and black darkness, then grey, stone walls creeping in closer and closer until he feels his hand shiver and he knows the dream is done. _One_ March 14, 2000 Today was no better than the other days this week. The only good thing was that I read about something that might help me. I don’t know if it will help me escape him here, but maybe it can help me destroy him at the root. I need to make sure that he can’t come back again. Maybe he would do what he did to me to someone else … So, this book, ‘Dream Catcher’ is … different. Out there. According to the author, you can steal the dreams of others and put them in your own mind to replace the ones you don’t want. I know, I know. I might try it one day, just to see. It’s probably a sham anyway. He’s coming home now.