Vignettes From A Dream

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino

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PROLOGUE

IN THE BEGINNING, there was darkness... darkness and warmth.

He had started to become aware of his existence just a little while ago it seemed, and with this awareness had come a newly-born feeling of gratifying, pleasant well-being -- and a blissfully innocent sense of security. He had started to awaken from a non-sentient dream state, one that had no discernable beginning nor apparent end, a dream that he had already forgotten. He found himself in a state of almost euphoric contentment; he had never known fear, nor had he ever conceived of danger, or felt any sort of want or need whatsoever. His mind had been a completely blank slate... but that was in the very beginning.

The wonderful new sensation of awareness had come with a price; a gradual realization that he, whatever he was, was growing -- but the parameters of his dream world were not expanding to accommodate his growth. As more time passed, it became harder to ignore the nagging problem of what he now realized was his steadily shrinking confine, and a new feeling had entered his consciousness; the feeling of concern. If his situation continued to unfold as it was, something profound and cataclysmic was surely going to happen... something had to happen. And he could feel that impending cataclysm drawing closer with each passing breath.

In a moment of epiphany he had realized that he possessed some kind of appendages, limbs, that were attempting to stretch themselves out apart from the center of his dream. And he had dared to allow those limbs more freedom; he had started trying to move them, to kick. Although breathing was a thing he had yet to conceptualize, something inside of him was pumping in a life-giving substance. That life-giving gas was oxygen, which was starting to come through to a now fully-developed pair of lungs, and these organs were demanding more and more oxygen to sustain and build what he was fast turning into. Gradually, the boundaries of his microcosm had started becoming more clearly defined, and he began to understand that some sort of space-limiting walls were enclosing his dream-world. Now that the dream was starting to fade away, that new feeling of concern had begun to assert itself once again, coming to the forefront of his consciousness, demanding his immediate attention; he was absolutely certain that something very fateful indeed was about to occur.

He began to experience the feeling of movement, as the unseen surrounding walls started pushing in on him, but in which direction he was moving he hadn't the slightest notion. Then he started to feel a new sensation penetrating through the walls, invading his cozy world. The pleasant warmth that he'd always known and taken for granted was rapidly ebbing away, and being replaced by something that he hadn't felt before, and didn't welcome... the sensation of cold. He felt as if he were entering into another realm, some kind of cold, uncertain limbo that was pulling him in a direction he instinctively realized was down.

Now he was being hit with another deviation from the norm -- but this one was not so unwelcome. For the first time, he began to experience light, and color. A blurry but very pleasing vision was beckoning him into this unknown new realm... the color of green. It seemed to be moving upwards to meet him. Some­thing inside of him, something at the very center of his being that had gone previously unnoticed, was beginning to palpitate; then he realized that he was falling. It was a sensation that he'd never imagined before, but now had very little time to worry about; he had quite abruptly struck something hard and solid, and the feeling of falling had ceased. He had landed on terra firma, the grass-covered soil of the earth.

He was a fawn... a newborn gazelle.

Immediately he began trying to kick; but his appendages were being held in place by something that was soft yet unbreakable, something that wouldn't give in to his demands for release. He began to feel panic, also for the first time. Then he felt another new sensation, something that quickly calmed his intense anxiety. Something was with him, and was for him... but it was something that was definitely outside of what had just been the only world.

A large, strange form towered above him, blocking out the rays of the sun; it was reaching down to caress his newborn body with a small, flat object that felt moist, warm, and friendly -- something that felt very soothing to his now fast-awakening senses. An enormous wave of relief was flooding through his now thoroughly enthralled mind, as this large savior began to gently pull away the tight sack that had been holding him captive, using something that felt hard and not so friendly, something he would soon come to appreciate more -- its teeth. Slowly he felt his limbs being freed, and he immediately began trying to move them about, as his newly-found liberator continued on with its nibbling task. Having removed his birth sack, she resumed the hard, moist licking that was making his body tingle, and stimulating him into action. For a long while he lay there, making gentle exploratory kicking motions... then something was telling him to rise above the greenery that loomed all around, higher than his head. With a great effort he stood up, and took a few wobbling steps... then immediately stumbled and collapsed back down to the ground in a heap.

His towering attendant quickly resumed its warm licking tactics, encouraging him to keep trying. Feeling his body tingling again under the gentle stimulus, he attempted once more to stand up. Upon succeeding, this time he decided to wait a few seconds before attempting to walk again; he remained still, just balancing motionless on all four wobbling legs. Getting used to the feeling of equilibrium was a wise decision. When he at last began to stumble forward, he quickly learned to counterbalance against the gravitational force that kept incessantly trying to pull him back down to the ground; soon he was contemptuously ignoring it. He had learned fast, and it was a good thing.

There was danger all around; that was why his mother had tried to safeguard his birth by delivering him in tall-standing grass, to better hide him from the fearsome predators that would soon be searching for him, hoping for an easy meal. There were many different kinds of such predators, each one possessed of a commanding hunger driving it relentlessly forward in an eternal quest for sustenance. These very able hunters naturally sought out the path of least resistance, and a newly born arrival, being unlikely to strenuously fight back or take flight, was invariably their first target.

But the fawn didn't know any of this yet, and as such was completely oblivious to danger. All the same, he didn't attempt venturing very far from where he was born for awhile, orbiting closely around his protective mother and drawing liquid nourishment from her own body... which would satisfy his hunger only for a little while. Then as more time passed, and he grew stronger and better balanced, his mother began cautiously leading him out of the tall grass into a large adjacent meadow, where one marvel after another exploded onto his senses. Everything he gazed upon filled him with joy and delight. An enormous, beautifully blue sky stretched vastly overhead, encircling for as far as he could see; artistically sculpted clouds of purest white drifted absent-mindedly about, as if lost in some pleasant dream. He loved the awe-inspiring sight of the heavens, and would quite often remind himself to look up, whereupon he'd instantly become mesmerized by the infinite vastness of the sky. Sometimes he would ponder where it all began, and where it might end... and even what might have created it. But concepts of infinity and creation were just too abstract for his scatter-brained consciousness to entertain for very long, and it disturbed his sense of almost perfect contentment, so he would quickly move on to another diversion... perhaps a brightly-colored fluttering butterfly, or a bird flying from bush to tree.

When his stomach growled for nourishment, he usually had to merely glance around to find something that would satisfy his hunger. There always seemed to be an abundance of fine-tasting foodstuffs surrounding him in the meadow, that he could partake of freely. And there were other life forms, big like his mother, also rooting about for grub; he could observe them up closer now, in all of their majestic glory. They were large, long-legged creatures, with coats of soft and dappled light-brown fur that glowed beautifully in the eternally cascading bright, golden sunlight. Some of the larger ones bore magnificent, stately antlers curving proudly upwards from the top of their noble heads; he kept a respectful distance from them. Other lesser-adorned cynosure seekers regarded him with curiosity and amusement, peering through soft brown eyes.

And he quickly discovered to his delight that there were other fawns, of the same diminutive stature as himself, more or less; he was not alone in his smallness. They were new arrivals also and like himself, full of fresh-born energy and wonder. They frequently came together to play games, preludes to the future competitive mating rituals that were their legacy, the things that had been passed down through the ages. He had yet to engage in those antics himself... and unbeknownst to his unsuspecting conscience, he would not live long enough to do so. Just as fortunately as creation had blessed him with a mind that could endlessly ponder and appreciate the wonders of the beautiful world, fate had cruelly dealt him an equally unfortunate hand, in a fast-turning world that rarely slowed down to show deference or mercy to day-dreaming laggers.

On the morning of the last day of his brief life, he was typically engaged in studying another one of the plethora of circulating events and things that constantly vied for his attention; this time it was the flight of a honeybee moving busily about, in search of something sweet, that had drawn his eye. The soft buzzing noise it emitted was fascinating him... and lulling him.

He didn't see the lion until it was too late. Prancing playfully about as he followed the honeybee, his mind meandering in a daydream like the absent-minded clouds drifting overhead, he didn't respond or even notice much when the leader of the herd rose up and stamped his hooves violently into the ground twice, before turning to run. The fleeing buck was swiftly joined by the rest of his large group, including the fawn's own mother, but her small, naive cub remained strangely detached from the tumult. He just continued watching the bee, enchanted by its curious buzzing sound, until some unseen voice commanded him to turn and look around. What he saw filled him with awe and wonder; the most splendid animal he had ever seen was running towards him, crouched low to the ground. Spellbound, he couldn't take his eyes off of it, and remained motionless as it rapidly drew closer. Then when it was almost upon him, the beautiful animal suddenly came to an abrupt halt, just inches away.

The two creatures regarded each other with curious eyes, barely moving. Gazing in awestruck wonder, he felt no fear, or trepidation of any kind as the exquisitely adorned cat stared nonchalantly back at him. They remained motionless for a few moments; then the cat raised one paw and very gently cuffed the side of his face.

More curious now, and still feeling no alarm, he drew yet closer to his amiable antagonist, sniffing its fur. His nose almost touched the cat's face; looking directly into its eyes, he was almost hypnotized by the bottomless depth he perceived there. Then the cat raised its paw again, and gave him another gentle tap on the face. Puzzled, but still unconcerned, he stood motionless; time seemed to be standing still.

Suddenly the cat looked past him, his mellow expression transforming into an angry mask. The fawn also turned to see what had caused the change in his companion's demeanor, and saw his own mother charging back to aid him, her small antlers lowered decisively.

The previously docile lion let loose an ugly snarl, a low, vicious sound of rage... then sprang into a determined charge itself, heading straight towards his rapidly approaching mother. Her boldness failing her, she slowed her advance and hesitated... then turned around and fled again. Something was telling the fawn to flee himself now; the sudden change in the cat's tolerant mood had caused something in him to awaken, something he had never experienced before... an acute fear of death, and the will to survive. Leaving his mother to her own devices, he turned and bolted away towards the tall grassy area where he had been born... where he had once felt safe and secure. Now he was experiencing another never-before felt sensation; blind terror.

The tall grass was beckoning to him, bading him to come and hide in its midst, away from harm. He ran swiftly towards it, but just before reaching what he thought was safety he glanced behind him one last time, and what he saw made him shudder. The lion had scared his mother into running away, but only for a few dozen yards; she was standing aside, watching from a safe distance what she knew was inevitable. The lion sighted its prey again, and instantly launched into another charge, unimpeded this time by any attempt at stealth. It was coming amazingly fast, and its formerly nonchalant expression had vanished -- it now displayed only an angry, determined scowl.

Panicking, the fawn kept running full speed towards the tall grass, but his fate was already sealed. In a matter of seconds the lion had crossed the meadow and was almost on him; he could hear it coming, only a scant few yards behind him now. He let out a scream of terror, practically diving into the thick green blades, but there was no stopping what nature had ordained. He felt the lion's long, sharp claws seizing his hindquarters, and in one twisting motion it had flipped him upside down. For a brief moment the fawn saw the blue sky again... then the cat's jaws clamped around his neck, squeezing incredibly hard, intent on cutting off his air supply and ending the struggle as quickly as possible.

The end was coming very fast. He felt his head growing thick inside, yet he was still able to think quite clearly, and what he was thinking seemed quite amazing; it felt as if the cat was clamping its teeth down harder and harder in an act of mercy, as if it didn't like inflicting the pain it was subjecting him to. It seemed as if it just wanted him to die as quickly as possible. In a moment of profound clarity, the fawn clearly accepted the fact that something inarguable and unstoppable was compelling the lion to devour him in order to continue its existence, just as he himself consumed the non-sentient but still living vegetation that grew around him, in order that he might keep on living. It had to be so; it had to be, and there was no use resisting the natural order of things.

Yet it all seemed just a little too sad... he had been granted only a very short time to appreciate the awesome, splendid beauty of the world he had so admired, and as his consciousness began to fade away, he found himself pleading to something; whatever, or whoever it was that had created this wonderland, in all of its inescapable, perfect and monstrous beauty.

"Please, please, please... it was all too short! I'm sorry I was foolish... please, let me do it over... just give me another chance! I'll be more careful next time, I swear..."

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Vignettes From A Dream - Copyright November 2021, December 2023 by Charles Adrian Trevino.