Sarette's Reve De Mort: And Other Stories Of Not Quite Magical Realism

The doctor woke me up, after the scans came in, revealing details of a life I had long sense buried. It was bleeding edge technology, a contraption that scanned the dreams of those who had chronic night terrors. My dreams had always been vivid, and some bordered on the supernatural. But none of them prepared me for the reality that was what I would later find out, had actually happened.

It was a cold morning, almost night.

My mother had dropped me off to get groceries, or so I was told at the time. However it had become apparent that she was never going to pick me up again. She was an only child, as was I, and her parents had long sense been dead. Thus I had no family I could call to come pick me up. Thus I had to rely on what I could to escape the horror that awaited me. By all practical appearances, it was a normal small town on the countryside: there was nothing that seemed out of place.

-- Remember to always carry your phone. My dad would always say this to me, not that it mattered much now. But now I wonder, if I had taken my phone, if I could have called for other family members to come pick me up, all those years ago.

I walked through the gate.

After crossing the gate, I arrived at the grocery store. Once again, nothing seemed out of place. However I noticed that everyone there had the same hair color. They were a variation of the blond hair and blue eye mutation, that only existed in 2% of the human population. I got myself a fresh link of Chorizo, and some large carrots. Then rented a room for the night, pretending that I was eighteen.

I placed my groceries in the fridge, to make sure the food stayed good, so I could use the phone. However from my observation the phone lines had been cut. With my limited hardware abilities, I was able to solder them back together. It was always handy to carry around one of these. I just didn't realize that I would need it so much. I dialed the number, so that I could get back in touch with my mother. But she was nowhere to answer it. Possibly already sleeping. I waited all night for her to answer back, but she never did. Thus I planned out the details of calling a taxi.

Night came and went, and I had another of my supernatural dreams: it was a young girl, in a tattered evening gown, that had her throat cut, and she was bandaged. -- Excuse me, are you hurt? I asked. She had a red aura around her, as if she was already dead. Yet there she was standing, before the lake. She began to turn around.

I woke up before I saw her face.

I tried to arrange a ride with one of the locals, but their tire broke down, so they had to call someone to get it towed. Instead he introduced me to his family, and one of the girls was a similar looking blond girl from the one that was in my dreams. -- I'm Sarette. I'm just taking a

short visit, I hope that I'm not a burden to you all.

-- Not all, we haven't had company in decades.

I shrugged off the comment in good cheer. That night I woke up, and quietly walked to the refrigerator: inside was what looked like decades worth of human body parts. And it was a long tunnel inside that reached all the way to a hidden facility. One thing you should know about me, as I'm not one to explore this facility, at least on the first attempt. So I quickly packed my bags, left a thank you note, and then called for a Taxi that night. However it took over an hour for the taxi driver to arrive, so I was stuck sitting outside with nothing to do. Perhaps I could have read my smart phone, but had not yet downloaded any manga to read. I was visited by the the guy that let me stay the night. -- I guess you saw the facility too.

-- You saw me?

-- The camera did.

-- So why are you out here with me? You haven't tried killing me yet.

-- Is that what you think of me Sarette? I'm hurt! Those are just vat grown human body parts, we haven't had a surrogate in some amount of time actually.

-- So what did you mean by decades?

-- We live a long time in this town.

-- So who was the last surrogate?

-- She was a girl, that looked similarly to you. It's why you and my daughters look so similarly. But she went missing, and her name was also Sarette. So I was wondering...

-- What are you thinking?

-- Are you Sarette from all those years ago?

I tried explaining to him that had I had no memory of such events, but I did remember that my early childhood was far longer ago than I thought. And my mother never spoke much about my father, after he disappeared all those years ago.

-- Was she pretty?

-- I like that confidence.

-- I'm serious.

-- Well my grandfather would have known.

He got his tires fixed, then was able to drive me back home. To this day I still remember the image of thinking people were actually murdered. But instead it was far more benign, although it still makes my skin crawl to think my tissue was used without my consent.

About one hundred years ago.

And yet now, I don't look much past nineteen. I wonder if I could possibly find a girlfriend at my age. I wonder who my mother really was, of if that was the actual dream, all this time.

I guess I'll never know. As I get back home, at college I'm greeted by one of the daughters, whom I had met.

She has a nice smile.

I still go to movies with her, even while I still go see the therapist with the 3D printer. I've given up on finding my mother, I suppose it's no longer important. What I know is the girl from my dreams is alive and well. And maybe someday, I can raise a family. --You sure have a weird family Sarette.

-- As do you, Sarette.