Dreams and Demons

Time to write!

Sometimes my inspirations come from songs, and this is the case for today's little piece. Technically I want Sundays to be "Authentic Writing" days, as per last Sunday's post, and so I feel good about writing this tonight. Here's the inspiration story quick though:
I was weeding by the rose bushes one fine summer morning, listening to my iPod. I'd been doing a lot of reading, so writing was definitely on my mind, and just about every little thing got the wheels in my head a turning. Well, the songs "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men came on, and suddenly my brain was filled with some crazy ideas. I listened to the song again and ideas kept coming.
Looking back over the lyrics, I have no idea how that song actually inspired this story, but hey! I'll take a little help where I can get it. :)
*Note: This is not the beginning of the story. Beginnings are hard. This is a scene, hopefully it intrigues you.

I didn't want to sleep that night. I was afraid that as soon as I closed my eyes, he'd be back. It was like I couldn't escape him, whether sleeping or awake, he was always there. By day he was dark and brooding, and by night he was just Zander again. Zander my best friend, Zander who had asked me to marry him when we were five years old. This Zander was the one I found more dangerous, because the day version was so unlike the boy I'd grown up with that despite his good lucks and intriguing mannerisms, he was easy to resist. But at night I'd fall asleep and suddenly he was just Zander once more, and then I'd see him in the morning and everything would continue to become more complicated.

Despite my resolve not to sleep, its kind of a natural phenomenon. Here's a tip: When trying to stay awake, lying down on unreasonably plushy beds is not a good idea.

That was another thing about this castle. It was so archaic, and generally so cold, but it had the warmest, most inviting bed I'd ever had the pleasure to lie upon. The castle was full of paradoxes that way. Everything was double-sided, wonderful and awful at the same time. Like my dream that night.

The dream began with me lying on my bed, exactly as I was. My door opened and Zander peeked in, his dark hair falling in his forehead, instead of slicked back as it was during the day when he reigned as Prince of Darkness.
"You ready, Amie?" he asked.
"I don't know," I replied, hesitant.

Dreams here didn't work like dreams anywhere else. In any other bed you fall asleep and you dream and you wake up and that's that. It could be a beautiful dream you never want to wake up from, or a nightmare that wakes you sweating and panting and never falling back to sleep again, but generally it doesn't really affect you beyond your mood upon waking up. You get out of bed and go on with your day. The end.

Here, dreams are a second life. An extension of the day, happening on the flip side of whatever happened while the sun was up. If I dreamed here that I'd gone to make cake in the kitchen, I'd wake up sitting at the table, and the mixing bowls would be in the sink. The only difference was that during my dream I was with Zander Miles, teenage human boy, making a cake in a normal, albeit fancy, kitchen, with a normal oven and running water. When I woke up I'd be sitting at a huge banquet table, surrounded by stone, and Alekzander IV, Demon Prince, would be coming down the stairs, hair slicked back, looking well rested and smiling enigmatically.

So when Zander asked me if I was ready to go, I didn't know what to say. Go where? Because I'd go just about anywhere with Zander, but didn't want to be anywhere close to Alekzander, not here, not anywhere. Like I said. Paradox.