Lily

My name is Dan Evans; I am 33 years old and live in Copenhagen. At the age of 21, I got in a car crash with my brother. While driving home from a family party on a lonely country road, he hit a dear crossing the road. The car flipped and hit a tree. He came out with a broken rib but I suffered a far more important injury. I fell into a coma with some severe brain damage. I woke up after 17 months. After a month of rehabilitation I got out. I had been told there would be some side effects from the medications, like nausea or headaches, but I wasn't prepared for what was ahead of me. I started having weird visions of myself at night that I couldn't control. None of my doctors could find an explanation for it. They performed many test on me, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. They even came up with a name for it, “Dreams”.

My “dreams” were most often pleasant scenes, me saving the princess from the burning flames for example. However the occasional “scary dreams” would leave me unable to fall back asleep. I would sometimes dream of monsters chasing me and no matter how much I ran they would always be there. After about 2 months, I started to occasionally get up during my sleep and do stuff around the house, but have no memory of it the next morning. After that, my neighbors moved away 2 weeks later believing I was possessed after hearing me talk to myself at 4 in the morning. Most people thought the “devil” was the only explanation for my dreams, and tried to avoid me. I didn't blame them: I was pretty scared myself. It took 4 years after the accident for my life to finally start getting back on track. I still had dreams almost every night, but people stopped trying to avoid me on the streets.

One morning, I woke up with a note written on a piece of cardboard on my porch saying: “Finally someone who understands me.” While wondering who had written it, I decided to eat breakfast in the city center. I ordered a coffee on the café on Mill’s Street and asked myself what that note meant. Was there someone else out there who dreamt every night as well? At that very moment I felt a hand touch my back. I turned around only to see a woman staring at me. She looked me in the eyes and her dry lips slowly pronounced the only word I wanted to hear…”DREAMS”

She fell into my arms and we stayed there for god knows how long. It was dark when we got out of the café. We drove back home and she told me everything about herself. Her name was Lily; she was born with the ability to dream. She came from a poor family. She was seven when she realized none of her friends dreamt at night. Her parents thought she became insane and left her on the street where she lived her whole life. She heard of me 7 months ago after hearing my former neighbors speaking about me and was looking for me ever since. She walked 4,953 kilometers to find me.

We are now married and have two kids, thankfully none of them dream.

Breus, Michael. "Sleep Well." Web MD. N.p., 22 July 2010. Web. 17 Oct. 14.