By Chongchen Saelee

I remember a story my father told me when I was a young boy. I must have been 8… 9, 10 years old? Anyway, he would tell me this story about brave warriors fighting off dark demons. It was a strange story to tell a boy before he’d go to sleep. It would induce strange dreams. But over the years, I had forgotten the story. Remnants of that dream, however, still come back to me every now and then. It only takes a single moment in my day, something like looking up at the happy yellow sun, and the smell of green grass to conjure up the images from my father’s story.

In the dream, I am still a child. I am a frightened boy. I am clutching my favorite tennis racket to my chest. I am so afraid.

I am in a dark room, alone, or seemingly alone. A single spotlight shines down on me. I don’t know where it’s coming from. I can turn and look, but there is no hint. I could be spinning for eternity. And then… some whispers, or some chatter in the near distance. But it’s slowly approaching, encircling me. But I can’t see anything or anyone. And the voices grow louder.

I take a defensive stance and draw my tennis racket in front of me like a sword. I am that brave warrior my father had instilled in me. I was going to fight off these dark, faceless demons that were approaching.

And then the voices stopped. And from the darkness emerged just outlines of what could be humans. Were they ghosts? Were they alien beings? They had eyes that glowed. And they had mouths that moved but no sounds coming out of them.

And then it seemed as though the darkness and shadows itself formed into planes that came together. The shadows formed into an arena and it encased me at the center. The mysterious shadow people surrounded me in the seats ready to judge me.

I shouted at the top of my lungs what they wanted from me. But I couldn’t hear anything. The air just seemed to vibrate. The shockwaves made the shadows ripple like jellyfish. And they just floated there, all points of glowing lights aimed at me.

I was scared, but I had my tennis racket with me. All champions need to have their enchanted swords with them to fend off evil. I knew as long as I had my sword with me, I was going to be safe. I had been blessed with a great skill to wield this sword. It brings me comfort.

I stared deeply into the darkness. It was a standstill. There was no attempt to communicate.

Eventually, the greatest shadow person arouse. It was like watching a black waterfall. And it’s eyes were a different color than the others. It began to take different shapes, changing fluidly, like a rubberband, or butterfly, or amoeba. And it grew larger and larger.

Everytime it grew, the audio would become clearer. It sounded like static. No. It sounded like wind. No. It sounded like fire. No. It sounded like cheers.

An arena full of people.

They were cheering for me. And before I realized it, the giant creature had enlarged itself into the size of a cavern. And it came slowly crashing down to engulf me, emitting a high pitched screeching sound. I try to swing my tennis racket as hard as I can, believing I could deflect it, but…

That’s usually how the dream ends. And I wake up. Usually in the middle of the night. I slide over to my bedroom window and stair outside at the deep blue world. And sometimes, I think I’m seeing things. But there are strange men in dark cars parked in the driveway. And my father is talking to them very enthusiastically. But they never seem to share it with him and march off, driving off into the unknown.

By the time I had realized what the dreams were about, and what my father was setting me up for, it’d already be too late.

Now, 20 years later, I wonder if the greatest adventure of my life is now a distant memory. Or is my biggest adventure yet to come?