Dexter dreams about dreams that aren't his.
I leave Lindsey to her stupid show and head into my room. I shove my makeup under my bed, where Lindsey probably won’t find it. I do the same with my nail polish.
Jim pings me.
Jim: Uhh, hEy dExtEr. Um...hOw ArE U?
Dexter: I’m frolicking in a meadow of sunshine and puppies. And butter.
Jim: I lIkE bUttEr.
Dexter: It’s not like you could hate butter. Butter is awesome.
Jim: HEh. yEAh. hEh hEh hEh.
Jim: U knOw whErE lIndsEy Is?
Dexter: She’s sitting on my couch watching Patriot Daughters or some stupid shit.
Jim: Oh. Uh. Um. Er. OkAy.
Jim: WEll, sIncE U gUys....r lIkE, AlrEAdY OvEr thErE....
Dexter: Why not? Party at my place!
Jim: ThAt, Um, sOUnds fUn.
Jim: wAIt...ArE U bEIng sArcAstIc?
Dexter: Yeah. Doesn’t show up over Pings, does it?
Jim: shOUld I stIll cOmE OvEr?
Dexter: Why not? See you later.
Jim: Oh. OkAy. SUrE.
Jim: byE dExtEr.
“Lindsey, Jim’s coming over!” I call from my room after I’ve hidden my makeup and nail polish. Lindsey shouts back some sort of reply. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.
I could sleep for a bit until Jim shows up. I climb back onto my mattress and am asleep in minutes. I don’t even take my shoes off.
I fall asleep and dream. Most of my dreams fall into the same category as my weird memories: They’re not mine.
In my dreams, I’m always the same person. Not Dexter. Somebody else.
It’s cool, being able to be someone else.
Gerard. That’s his name. Gerard. My name. Sort of.
I’m on a stage, with some other people, but really, I don’t focus on them. People in front of me, wow, look at them all. They’re all screaming for me, for the other men with me, but they’re screaming for Gerard.
I don’t know what to do, but I just start singing, because when people scream at you, you should sing at them, obviously.
“They gonna clean up your looks, with all the lies in the books, to make a citizen out of you. Because they sleep with a gun, and keep an eye on you son, so they can watch all the things you do.”
People go from screaming noise to screaming the words with me. Is Gerard a leader of a cult or something? That would fit. We get catchy music for a cult. Maybe this religion thing isn’t so bad. I’ll have to put in a formal idea to get it unbanned.
“Because the drugs never work, they gonna give you a smirk, cuz they got methods of keeping you clean. They gonna rip up your heads, your aspirations to shreds, another cog in the murder machine.”
I think this music might be banned by Better Living Industries. But the cult people seem to like it, and they keep screaming it for me. I just pace the stage and keep singing.
"They say all teenagers scare the living shit out of me! They could care less, as long as someone will bleed! So darken your clothes, and strike a violent pose, maybe they’ll leave you alone, but not me!”
“Wake up, Dexter! You been staying out all hours or something?”
There’s no awesome cult members, just Lindsey and Jim.
“You, um, were sleeping like the dead,” Jim says, staring at the floor.
“And you were singing,” Lindsey says, raising an eyebrow.
How many times can I screw up in one day? “I was? Really? What song?”
“I dunno, I never heard it before. It was cool, though,” Lindsey hums it, and yeah it was the song I-well, Gerard-was singing.
“I don’t know that song either,” I lie, but I think Lin knows I lied to her. She doesn’t push me on it, though, which is cool. She just takes me back to the living room to watch government approved Tv.
(A.N. You know what? I am working so very hard for you guys, writing this story. This isn't easy, y'know. And what do I get? No gratitude! No gratitude and no reviews! But it's okay. It's alright. I'll just keep working for you people. Bahaha I'm kidding leave a review if you feel inclined to. It'd be nice but you don't have to if you don't want to.)