Still unsettled from his startling dream, Andrew rolled over just as the alarm went off, signifying the start of the day. He got up and made his bed right away. One time, when he overslept, his mother and father yelled at him for not making his bed when he returned from school. He realized if he made his bed before he got dressed or did anything else, it was a lot easier than to struggle with the sheets after everything else was done.
He quickly got dressed, putting on a pair of pants from yesterday and a clean tunic. As he pulled the soft garment over his head, his mind flashed to the image of the rough, dirty, and ripped tunics that Miles and his compatriots were wearing. That was the problem with his recurring dreams, he thought, the images stuck with him throughout the day. Despite the vividness of his dreams, he had not told anyone about them before for fear of being laughed at. Perhaps after last nights new ending, he should at least write it down.
Andrew listened for any noise out side his room. He could hear his mother moving around in the kitchen downstairs. She was starting to make breakfast. Andrew guessed he had a few minutes before he needed to finish his other chores in time for breakfast. He got down on all fours and started rooting around underneath his bed. In the corner, he found the floorboard that was jutting out ever so slightly. As quietly he could, he pulled at the corner so it opened up the hole underneath his floor. A loud squeak startled him and he nearly dropped the floorboard, He froze in place, straining his ears for any different noises from his mother. After a minute and there wasn’t any thing new, he quickly jabbed his arm into the hole and brought up a leather brown journal.
The book was pretty beat up. Andrew had found it in the forest one day, half submerged in a puddle. It was the gold print of Journal printed on the cover that attracted his attention. He knew he should not pick it up, but he couldn’t resist the curiosity factor. The Government had banned all journals and blank books before he was born. He had never seen one before. Quickly he picked it up and tried to shake most of the water out of it before thrusting it under his tunic. It was quite uncomfortable but he had managed to sneak it all the way to his room without getting caught. He spread the book open on the floor for a few days, taking care to make it hidden from the door way. It took a couple of days before it was dry enough to read. When he finally did open it, he found the water had damaged most of the pages enough that it was nearly impossible to tell what was written there before.
That was over a year ago. Andrew kept the book hidden for fear his parents would discover it and punish him. He knew it was illegal to keep any kind of journal – which was probably why he had found it discarded in the forest – but somehow he felt better knowing it was underneath his bed. And besides, he reasoned with himself as he grabbed a pen from his desk, he almost never actually wrote in it.
But he really should get this dream down. He had a feeling this wasn’t the kind of dream he could share with anyone, not even his best friend or parents. Writing it down would hopefully get his mind off of obsessing about it for at least a little while.
When he first wrote something down, the ink had a hard time on the pages as they weren’t as smooth as they once were but Andrew had manged to get it co-operate after a couple tries. He just scribbled down Exiler, Miles, Lord Duffy, hoping that would be enough to remember the dream right now. After a pause he also wrote down what Miles ‘said’ to him right before his dream had ended. ‘Help us Andrew… Only you can… Forest on Tuesday.’ With that, he froze for a moment. He slowly glanced at the calendar on the wall to confirm what he just remembered – it was Tuesday.
Now he was spooked. As quickly and quietly as possible, he stashed the journal back in the hole and closed the floorboard on top of it.