Sleeper

The Waking Sleep - Book 1

Lucy Adler

This is a work of fiction and the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, either living or dead, is wholly coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by West on Twenty

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

Dedicated to the real Daria, and those like her.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Afterword

Prologue

Excerpt from the Progress Guidelines,

Paragraph 17:

In order that humanity might not forget their greatest gift, or the Former Days from which they have been set free, the calendar shall be reset, beginning with the year following the invention of Sendrax.

Thus, January 1, 2037 shall henceforth be known as Month 1, Day 1, Year 1.

“What hath night to do with sleep?”

Milton, Comus I. 30

1

Month: 3 | Day: 4-5 | Year: 60

THE GREAT CITY OF PROGRESS

“She snorted! She actually snorted this time!”

Laughter rippled through the room like mice through the walls of an old house.

One of them even imitated her with a loud ‘hrrrumpf’.”

“Ok, that’s enough,” the woman at the front of the room said. Of course, she had laughed too. In fact, she was still trying to hold back a smile as she disciplined the drowsy girl.

“That’s the third time in two weeks, Daria. Are you forgetting to take your pills?”

Embarrassment - no, humiliation - coupled with exhaustion made her stumble over her words.

“I - uh - I don’t think so...”

“You don’t think...” one of the boys two rows back and two seats over from her repeated. “We already knew that.”

Another skittering wave of mousey laughter passed by.

“Ok, I said that’s enough,” their teacher repeated. “Get down to the Dispensary, Daria. Now.”

The girl shuffled in her seat as she disconnected her tablet from the socket on the desk and put it in her grey satchel. The bag had a brightly coloured patch on the flap, embroidered with a gold building rising high above a few low roof-tops. Around the outside were the words: ex nihilo nihil fit.

She stood up and walked to the door of the room.

So awkward.

When she had shut it behind her, she heard one more round of laughter. She leaned against the wall in the hallway for a second, closing her eyes.

Why...?

_______________________

“Oh, Daria. I really shouldn’t know you this well!”

“I know.”

“And you really need to take your pills regularly. No excuses. Ok?”

“I do.”

The man in the white coat, white gloves, and white hat reached up and grabbed a glass bottle from a glass shelf. It had about forty or fifty pills in it. He popped the lid off, tipped out two pills into his hand, then closed it again and set it on the counter in front of him.

“Here,” he said, handing them to Daria.

“Two?”

“Well, when you skip your morning dose, you need an extra one.”

“But I’m not skipping. Really.”

The man nodded and smiled but Daria could tell he didn’t believe her. She walked over to the fountain in the corner of the room and put the first of the two pills into her mouth. She leaned over and pressed the silver button on the side. A stream of water arched out of the tap, hitting her in the nose.

Why do schools always have the oldest tech?

She repeated the process for the second pill, without the wet nose this time, and then turned around and gave the Dispenser a wide but insincere smile.

“Thank you, I feel better already!” she said with as much fake enthusiasm as she could muster.

“That’s a good girl,” he said with a smile, “now get back to class and keep that mind awake and thinking!”

“You know it!”

When she had turned around and was facing away from him, Daria rolled her eyes and sighed.

_______________________

“Three more laps! Don’t stop running! Run! Run! Run!”

The field was a perfect square, surrounded on three sides by the school itself and flanked by a twenty-storey building on the fourth side. Daria glanced up at it as she ran, catching glimpses of dozens of different people scurrying this way and that on every floor. Different people, but all of them wearing the same grey clothes - grey pants, grey jackets, even a few grey hats here and there. She could only imagine they all had the same grey shoes, just like hers.

“Pick it up, Dasher!” the coach yelled. “You gotta live up to that name!”

And there it was again. Laughter. At least there were only two students lagging behind with her, so she couldn’t hear everyone enjoying the joke this time. Once the coach had found out that her grandmother called her Dasha as a cute nickname, he loved pointing out how she never ‘dashed’ anywhere.

Ugh. I hate this part.

Daria was, of course, the last one to finish her laps. The students who had been close to her during the run had sped up near the end. They weren’t actually as slow as she was. No one was. Which also meant that she usually had the joy of jogging across the finish line with everyone watching her.

“Ah, so you decided to finish today, Dasher!” the coach said as she joined the group. She was sure she heard another mocking ‘snort’ from one of the boys.

“Alright, everybody get changed and get out of here. No practice tomorrow but same time the next day.”

Daria started to walk off to the locker room but the coach stopped her.

“You know you’re only here because of your dad, right? This is a personal favour to him. Don’t screw it up.”

“I know. Thank you.”

She rolled her eyes again as she walked away.

Thanks, dad.

_______________________

The white bus glided softly over the magnetic streets. It had been more than thirty years since the last traditional cars had been driven through Progress on their grungy old tires. The roads were cleaner now. The air was, too. Daria knew she was supposed to understand how the Road Network functioned but she really didn’t. Not fully, at least. But it was quiet and comfortable on the white busses that ferried her and her classmates back and forth to school seven days a week, 364 days a year. Too comfortable, actually.

Daria could feel her eyes drooping.

No, no, no. Please, not now.

She held back a yawn. Then she tried a trick that usually worked. First, she glanced around to make sure no one was watching her. She was at the front and the next closest person was about three rows back. She rolled up her left sleeve and with the thumb and index finger of her right hand, she grabbed a small bit of skin on her arm. And she pinched it. Really hard.

She winced and held her breath for a few seconds.

Then she let go and breathed. She rubbed her forearm to settle the pain, even though it was the pain that she needed to help her stay awake. She watched the red spot settle on her skin.

What is that now... eight?

She rubbed the other spots on her arm.

And this is Day 3 this week. Not too bad.

_______________________

“How was your day today?”

“So good. So productive!”

“What did you do?”

“We had a history test. It was about World War II.”

“They’re still teaching you about that?” the man at the head of the table asked. “It was 150 years ago. What’s there to know?”

“156 years, 6 months, and 4 days since it started. 150 years, 9 months, and 26 days since it ended in Europe. But don’t worry,” the boy answered, shaking his head, “history class is only fifteen minutes, twice a week. The tests are about two minutes. We just cover the important stuff, like the dates and who won.”

The man nodded in approval. The woman sitting at the other end of the table, who had started the conversation in the first place, looked at Daria next. She was sitting opposite the boy, the four of them having dinner together at their square dining table.

“What about your day?” her mother asked.

“Daria fell asleep again!” the boy quickly interrupted.

“Shut up!”

“Daria, calm down,” her dad barked. Her brother just gave her a mocking smile.

“Is that true?” her mother asked.

“I guess so. But it was only for like a second, really.”

Her mother tried to be gentle but her mouth twisted up a little and Daria could tell she was disappointed. Her dad let out a huff, just as she expected.

“Do we see about upping her dose?” he said to her mom.

“It doesn’t help,” Daria replied, looking down at her noodles and flicking them around with her fork.

“Then what’s the problem?” he grunted.

“I don’t know. I’m just...” She didn’t want to finish the sentence. She didn’t want to hear herself say it out loud. Especially not in front of her dad.

“You’re just what?”

“Probably not trying hard enough. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

_______________________

She pulled back the grey sheet and sat on the edge of her bed for a minute. She took in a long, deep breath, and then let it out slowly. She looked around at her bare walls. Well, mostly bare. Her yearly calendar hung just over her desk, alongside a poster of the Progress Guidelines. Every family in the city had the same poster somewhere in their home. Daria’s father had insisted that each of them have their own copy in their bedroom.

The second line was the same motto from the patch on her school-issued satchel: ex nihilo nihil fit - Nothing comes from nothing.

Daria read it and yawned.

Of course, the poster was just a sort of summary or cheat-sheet. The actual Guidelines were a thousand-page document drawn up by Felix Caxton and Adrian Meyers, the original founders of Progress. Your Final Year at school consisted of studying it in its entirety, before you graduated into the Workforce. Daria was only sixteen though, so she still had another year before The Reading began.

Maybe they’ll phase it out as a requirement before then. I can hope, right?

She stared at it a few seconds longer, and yawned again. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes.

Just then, her mom popped her head into the doorway.

“You better get to sleep. You need your 45 minutes a night if you’re going to be sharp!”

“Thanks, mom,” Daria smiled.

The door closed softly and Daria tried breathing in and out again. Then she flopped down on her side and tried to get comfortable.

_______________________

Her alarm went off with a jarring squeal.

Arrggh!

She wanted to smash it into a million pieces. But she held back and just turned it off instead.

“You’re still in bed?!” her brother called from the hall.

“Shut up! Seriously, I’m going to make you cry.”

“That would take energy, and you don’t have any. So I guess I’m safe!” She could hear him laughing as he walked away.

Daria yawned and then forced herself up. She got dressed as quickly as she could, putting on her grey school uniform. It was a thin, breathable material, that managed to keep you warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Another gift of Progress. She knew she wasn’t supposed to think this but Daria couldn’t help feeling that it was too plain. One long, unbroken, unadorned piece of material that stretched from the turtleneck at the top all the way down to the end of the skirt, which sat just at the middle of her knees. It had long sleeves as well, and was close-fitting, but not uncomfortably so.

She pulled up her long brown hair into a simple pony tail, then grabbed her white scarf from the top of her dresser. It was the only bit of ‘colour’ that was approved for clothing. In addition to a basic ski cap for colder weather, scarves were the only accessory available to ‘spice up’ your outfit. Daria was always amazed at the clever ways girls invented for wearing them. She, on the other hand, rarely had the energy to imagine doing much more than wrapping it around her neck in a loosely hanging loop. Her brother was right.

She looked at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door, turning around once or twice and peering over her shoulder to check the back of the dress. Then she sighed.

Whatever. Another day.

_______________________

“Dasha! Dasha!”

Aah, that’s what I needed.

The voice called out again. It was coming from behind her as she walked from the bus into the school.

“Dasha!”

She turned around with a smile on her face. A genuine smile.

“Jake!”

“Hey, how are you doing today? I heard about the... incident yesterday.” His eyes were sympathetic and his mouth looked sad for her.

Now just kiss me with those lips and I’ll forget all about snorting myself awake in class.

“Yeah, it kinda sucked. But I guess I’m getting used to it.” She rolled her eyes like it was no big deal.

“You’re pretty tough!” he laughed, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“You know it.”

Jake was the same age and in the same year at school. In fact, he and Daria shared a birthday. Month 12, Day 16. That was how they had met. Two years earlier, during a mandatory medical examination for the entire school, they had ended up next to each other in the queue. They had over an hour together while they waited to see the Doctors. From the moment she first laid eyes on him, Daria had thought he was the cutest thing she had ever seen.

Back then, she had a lot more confidence. She wasn’t always dozing off at the wrong time. Or any time, really. So she hadn’t been nervous at all when he started talking to her.

Of course, things had changed. And now that she was the school’s running joke (figuratively and literally), she found it hard to interact with him the way she used to. But, thankfully, Jake was the same kind, sensitive guy he was back then. He hadn’t changed at all. Well, except for getting even cuter.

Is that possible?

“I’m kind of in a rush right now but if you need help with any of your work...” He gave her a caring look with those rich brown eyes, and a wink that said, ‘You can count on me, ok?’

“Thanks, Jake,” she said, giving him a silly wink back.

As he walked away, another girl called out from further down the hall.

“Jakey boy!”

It was Justine. Perfect, flawless, obnoxious Justine.

Bleh.

Daria shuddered, like she had just tasted something bitter. She looked away before they kissed each other.

_______________________

English went long that morning, for a total of eighteen gruelling minutes instead of the normal fifteen.

“Don’t we all speak English already?” one of the boys said to another as the class was dismissed.

“Most of us!” his friend answered, following it up with a couple of ‘snorts’ in Daria’s direction.

“You’re so clever!” she replied with sarcastic admiration. The shoulder squeeze that morning from Jake might have boosted her confidence a little.

“We all are, Daria,” he responded coldly, “except you.”

_______________________

They were halfway through Math when the teacher announced a pop quiz.

You’ve got to be kidding?

Everyone started readying their tablets, waiting for the questions to appear.

“Nope, no tablets,” the teacher said, waving his hand.

Now you’ve really got to be kidding me?!

There were two kinds of pop quizzes. The old-fashioned kind, where you filled in boxes and solved problems on your screen. Those were hard enough, but at least you had some space to think for a few minutes. Then there were Performance quizzes. No time, no space. Just the teacher and the rest of the class staring at you while you stood at the front of the room and showed your work in real time on the big screen for everyone to see. And comment on, of course.

Please no. Please no.

“Daria. You’re first.”

I hate my life.

Daria slid out of her chair and walked as slowly as she could without being more awkward than normal. She took her spot at the teacher’s podium and looked down at his tablet. There was a black background on the screen, with a bright red button flashing in the middle. It said, “Press to begin Performance.”

What if I just... don’t?

She knew she couldn’t do that. So she lifted her right hand up and pressed it.

Instantly, a math problem appeared in front of her, and on the big screen as well. There were X’s and Y’s and five - or maybe seven - lines drawn in various arcs and circles. There was a graph, too, and then lots of words. This wasn’t just some equation to be solved. There was application as well. Some kind of architectural or engineering thing, she thought.

Seriously. I actually hate my life. Kill me. Now.

Daria tried to read the words carefully but she felt every eye boring into the back of her head. She felt every second ticking, ticking, ticking... It felt like an eternity. But then, at the same time, she had no idea how much time was actually passing. Had it been an eternity? Or was she working at a reasonable pace?

I think, maybe...

She started to touch and move the arcs and circles around the screen. She selected an X here and a Y there and tried to move them into their proper positions. Then she started to write a few numbers with her finger.

What the heck? Am I actually doing this...

“Aaaand, time. Too much time, in fact.”

Her teacher walked up next to her and pointed at his watch.

Twenty-three seconds? I’m dead.

“You either know it or you don’t, Ms. Grayson. And obviously, you don’t.”

“But I think I was almost --”

“Almost?” her teacher repeated.

“I know,” Daria said, her head falling a bit as she looked down at the floor.

“Anyone care to tell me the meaning of ‘almost’?”

“Nothing!” one of the girls called out.

“Precisely. And what comes of nothing?”

“Nothing!” several of the students said in unison.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” they all repeated together this time.

“Thank you, Ms. Grayson,” the teacher said, tapping her on the back, “you may be seated.”

_______________________

“You can’t fail any more of those. You know that, right?”

“Obviously, Brix.”

The two of them waited in line for their lunch.

What’s on the menu? Slop? Slop? Oh, wait, no... it’s slop! You gotta love slop.

Daria tried not to look too closely at the food, to avoid getting nauseas before she ate it. There was no avoiding the nausea after.

The servers scooped up two ladlefuls of grey gravy with chunks of meat-like material floating inside. They poured it over the pile of whitish goop already on their plates. It was a tacky, tasteless, protein-rich food that simplified the task of providing healthy lunches to students. When combined with the gravy, the meal contained one-third of your daily requirement of every vitamin and mineral, all in perfect balance, along with one-third of your daily protein as well.

“Where do you want to sit?”

“I don’t care.”

“Do you ever?”

“Do I ever what?”

“Care?”

“Look, I already had my quiz for today, ok?” Daria said, giving Brix a sharp look.

“Relax, Dashy, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

They made their way to the corner of the cafeteria, near a window that overlooked the field at the back of the school.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Daria picked at her white stuff and sloshed the gravy around between it.

“Cause I’ll just listen. I promise.”

“Just the same old stuff. What’s there to say?”

“You’re still...” Brix glanced to the side before she finished the sentence. Then she whispered, “Tired?”

Daria imitated her with a couple of exaggerated head movements, as if she were a fugitive on the run.

“Yes, Brix. Tired. Like always.”

Her friend didn’t really know what to say. So she kept her promise and just listened.

“It won’t stop. Doesn’t matter how many pills. I had a double dose halfway through the day yesterday and I still had to pinch myself awake on the bus.”

“You’re not still doing that, are you?”

Daria looked embarrassed.

“That can’t be good for your skin, Dashy.”

“Not like anyone ever sees it in this,” she said, tugging at her grey uniform.

“Have you tried doubling up in the morning? You know, starting the day off with a kick?”

“Once or twice. It didn’t do anything.”

“Are you getting your full 45 at night?”

“Most nights.”

“Most?”

“Sometimes, I get 60,” she whispered.

“That might be your problem,” Brix said with wide eyes, hoping she may have just diagnosed and cured her friend in one fell swoop. “You know what they say about the dangers of too much sleep.”

“It’s so strange but when I have those nights, it’s the only time I feel like I can get out of bed the next morning. The feeling only lasts like ten minutes but it’s great. It feels like it used to, back before whatever this is started happening to me.”

Brix just shook her head in confusion. She was a good friend but she couldn’t process any more creepy health talk right now.

“You’re special, Ms. Dashy Grayson!”

“I’d rather not be,” Daria replied as she speared the last two chunks of meat-like food on her plate and forced them into her mouth.

_______________________

“I got a text from your teacher today.”

“Which one?”

“Should I expect to hear from more than one?”

“No, I guess not. Probably Michaels, right? Was it about Math?”

“That’s right.”

“So he told you how I failed the quiz?”

“Twenty-three seconds, honey?” Her mom shook her head and furrowed her brow. “Come on, Daria, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve told you. More than once.”

Her mom rolled her eyes this time but tried to look away as she did it. As if Daria wouldn’t notice.

“Why don’t you want to succeed?”

“You think I don’t want to succeed? You think I like being laughed at? Being the class idiot? No, the school idiot? Why would anyone want that?”

Her mom gave her a look of pity and then rubbed her shoulder. The same one Jake had squeezed earlier.

It’s just not the same when she does it.

“Why don’t you get nice and comfortable in your room and take a four-minute break before you start your homework?” her mother said with a big smile. Her tone sounded like she was giving Daria permission to steal a car... and rob a bank. “I won’t tell your father,” she added, putting her finger to her mouth.

Oh wow, so thoughtful.

“Whatever. I don’t need it. I’m fine.”

_______________________

“Goodnight, dear.”

“Night, mom.”

Daria was already under the covers when her mom passed by her door. She was checking on her but trying to do it casually.

Keep trying.

“Oh,” her mom said, stopping before she had walked away. She leaned her head into the doorway.

“I’ve had a talk with your father...”

Oh great.

“...and I think tomorrow is going to be a much better day, honey!”

What is she talking about?

“Sleep well!”

2

Month: 3 | Day: 6 | Year: 60

DIVOTS

Lap four. Only two more.

She looked up at the office building again. This time, though, she looked past it, at the blue sky above. The clouds were moving a little faster than normal. Most were puffy and white, your typical clouds. But one of them was wispy, its shape in constant flux as the wind carried it over the city.

So beautif- Oooww!!

The toe of her shoe had caught on a small divot, sending Daria face-first into the ground. For once, she was actually glad that she hadn’t been running faster.

“Dasher! What’s your problem?” the coach screamed from across the field.

Daria rolled over and looked up at the sky again. The wispy cloud was almost out of sight over the roof of the school.

Screw it.

Instead of getting up, she laid there the three or four seconds it took to catch the last glimpse of it before it disappeared forever.

“Dasher! Don’t make me ask you again! Finish your laps!”

By this point, the rest of the team was done but Daria had her whole sixth lap left. The coach could have dismissed them. There was no reason to make them wait for her. But he didn’t. And they waited, watching every tired step as she finally crossed the finish line.

She did her best to ignore the jokes, the pointing, even the snorting. But as she was trying to block out every sound, she heard one that slipped past her defences.

“Dasha! Wait up!”

Oh my gosh. Really?!

“Dasha, are you ok?”

Yup, he saw it.

Daria turned around slowly, trying casually to wipe the dirt off her face. She was about as casual as her mom sneaking past her bedroom.

“Hey Jake, what’s up?”

“Well, that was kind of intense, right? You sure you’re ok?” He reached up and gently put his hand on her head, like he was feeling for a fever.

Ahh, that’s the stuff.

“Yeah, it’s cool. I’m fine. Divots... am I right?”

Just shut up, Daria.

“You wanna grab a coffee and do some homework together? I can help you with whatever you want?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure, that’d be fine.”

Quiz me on your eyes, or your hair. I’m ready!

“Cool,” he replied with a smile, “well, I’ll meet you in the Library in a little bit?”

“I’m ready now.”

“Uh... don’t you want to change first?”

“Oh yeah, I was just kidding!”

Stupid.

Daria laughed and then wiped her face again for a second. “I’ll meet you in about fifteen minutes?”

“Can’t wait!”

Me neither!

_______________________

“So, where’s Justine today?”

“Oh, she had a thing with her parents. Some special testing to see if she might be able to skip next year.”

Of course.

“That’s great! I bet she’s pretty excited.”

“Definitely.”

Jake’s tone wasn’t quite the same as usual.

Could they be...? No, don’t get your hopes up.

They got their coffees from the machine in the hall. They each waved their wristband in front of a sensor, then hit the button that said ‘Coffee’. A silver cup emerged from a small sliding door, then the black liquid poured down from a nozzle above it, leaving just enough room so you could carry it safely without spilling. As for milk, sugar, or honey, they were considered frivolous for use as condiments under the Progress Guidelines.

They made their way across the Library, which was really just a large study area with an outdated name. Books had been phased out even before traditional cars. Paper and the industry surrounding the printing, binding, and shipping of physical books was all considered wasteful and inefficient. Besides, why spend time browsing a library or a bookstore when you could just tap your tablet, or use voice commands, and start reading whatever you wanted in seconds?

Jake suggested the table that was furthest from everyone else, and Daria was more than happy with his choice.

Nice and cozy.

“What should we get into first?” she asked.

Besides us, our future, how you’re sick and tired of Justine... She’s such a bore, Dasha. Will you fill the void in my life and make me whole again? Oh, poor Jake, you know I’m here for you...

“How about Math?” he replied.

“Exactly what I was thinking!”

They spent about an hour working through the day’s assignments, sharing their screens and quizzing each other along the way. Jake even helped break down the problem that had caused her so much grief the day before.

Why does it all make sense when he explains it?

“So, Daria, can I...” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“Number 13? I know, I had trouble with that one too.”

“Uh, no. It’s not about math.”

It took a second or two before his words registered with her. Then she quickly set her tablet down and gave him her full attention.

What could this be...?

“Well, you were asking about Justine earlier...”

“Yeah...?”

“I wanted to tell you...” He paused again. Daria would normally have been only half-aware of his words, losing herself in those velvety brown eyes of his. But her heart started beating faster and her palms got a little warmer.

No. Way. Is it...?!

“We kinda... broke up.”

Are you freaking kidding me right now?!

“Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry,” she replied softly, frowning and giving him her best sad eyes.

“Thanks.”

This is really all I needed. I feel totally awake! Pills?! Who the heck needs pills?

She reached out and gave his hand a quick rub.

“You doin’ ok with it?” she asked.

“Yeah, you know, it’s tough but it’ll be fine.” He looked down at his tablet and poked at the screen a few times.

“Well, if you want to talk or anything, you know I’m always here.”

“Thanks, Dash. I know.” As he said it, he reached over and squeezed her hand.

And they lived happily ever after...

_______________________

She didn’t have to pinch herself awake on the bus that evening. In fact, she thought she might never have to pinch herself awake ever again. It’s not like Jake had expressed his undying love for her. Yet. It was only a matter of time though, right? The best minds in Progress had never been able to crack the 45-minute rest barrier, but Daria was feeling like she would never have to sleep again.

“Nice face-plant, loser,” her brother said as she walked up to the house. He was sitting outside, doing homework on the white gravel lawn.

“Thanks, kid. I hope you had a lovely day too,” she replied with a genuine smile.

“Mom, I’m home!” She dropped her bag by the door and kicked off her shoes.

“Mom?”

Daria walked into the kitchen, then the living room.

Where is she? She’s always here to give me my chores. We wouldn’t want me to be doing nothing now, would we? What a horrible idea...

“Mom?”

As she rounded the corner into the dining room at the back of the house, Daria saw her mom, dad, and three men sitting together at the square table. Two of the men were rather large and had to squeeze together on one side. She thought they looked pretty silly.

“Daria, you’re home!” her mom said with a smile. “Come, sit down. We’ve been waiting for you!”

“What’s going on?”

“We’ll explain it all in a second. Just sit down.”

“Sit, Daria,” her dad growled.

What the...?

There was an extra chair ready for her beside her mom. She sat down slowly and then looked across everyone’s faces. They were all staring back at her, like she was a science experiment or some animal in a zoo.

“Daria, these men are from the Caxton-Meyers Institute.”

“Hello, Daria,” one of them said, the one who wasn’t doubled up on his side of the table.

She didn’t reply.

“They’ve got some good news for you,” her mother said with excitement.

The man cleared his throat and folded his hands.

“You see, Daria, we think you’re special...”

That can’t be good.

“...and we think that you need some special attention for a while.”

That’s even worse.

“So we’ve cleared a spot for you at our facility. We’d love it if you would join us.”

He tried to smile but it looked so fake, it made her more nauseas than a plateful of white stuff and gravy.

“How am I special?” She knew what they meant but she wanted to make them say it out loud.

Cowards.

The men looked at each other, and then at Daria’s parents. Her dad took responsibility for answering.

“We gotta kick this tiredness thing, kid. It’s not ok. We gotta figure out why you’re doing this to yourself.”

“Doing this to myself?! Are you for real right now?!”

“You’re on the right dose. You’re sleeping your 45 a night. There’s no reason you should be feeling the way you do. It has to be in your head. So these gentlemen are going to get in there and get to the bottom of it.”

Daria couldn’t speak. But it wasn’t that she didn’t have anything to say - it was that she had too much to say. The words jammed together in her mind. Her heart was beating faster and faster. Her hands were shaking.

“Why don’t you go up to your room and pack a couple of uniforms, your pajamas, and your home tablet,” the man said quietly, like he was talking to a mental patient.

Is that what I am?

She glanced around the room in a panic as the walls felt like they were beginning to spin. She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes. Her mom touched her hand.

“Honey? Your things?”

Daria stood up quickly, knocking the chair over as she did. She stormed out and up the stairs to her bedroom. She slammed the door shut behind her, fell onto her bed, and started crying. She cried for a solid ten minutes before there was a knock, and she heard her mom’s muffled voice from behind the door.

“Daria? Daria?”

“What?”

“Hurry up, please.”

She wiped the tears from her face and angrily jerked open one of the dresser drawers. She grabbed her three spare uniforms and threw them on her bed. Then she grabbed her pajamas and a few other pieces of clothing and tossed them on top.

As she reached for her home tablet, the screen lit up.

It was a message.

From Jake.

Jake! Save me!

She tapped on the notification. It was a voice message.

“Hey, Dash. Um, I really, um... I mean, I had a lot of fun studying together today. Maybe we could, you know, like, do it again or something? Uh, ok. See you tomorrow.”

We’ve studied together plenty of times. Why would that be awkward? Unless...

She dropped the tablet and let out a groan as she looked up at the ceiling.

I have to get out of this!

She went over to her window and looked down.

Breaking my legs probably won’t help.

Maybe I can slip out the front door?

She threw her clothes into her duffel bag, grabbed the tablet, and tried to sneak out of her bedroom.

She tip-toed down the stairs. She could hear the men talking with her parents in the dining room. She stepped softly and carefully towards the front door, leaning down and grabbing her shoes without stopping to put them on.

She turned the handle slowly and steadily until the door clicked open.

Did they hear that?

She waited for a second but no one came. Then she stepped outside and pulled the door behind her, closing it as far as she could without actually latching it again.

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing, loser?” her brother asked.

“Shut up,” she whispered.

“Where are you going?” he asked loudly.

“Just shut up. Don’t make me ask you again!”

“And why are you whispering, moron?”

Just then, the door swung open. Daria closed her eyes and let her head fall back a little as she gave up any hope of escape.

“Right this way, Ms. Grayson,” the leader of the little group said. He placed his hand on her back and gestured toward a boxy looking vehicle parked out on the road. It didn’t have any windows, except around the front cabin.

“Mom? Dad?” she called out, looking at them in desperation as she walked down the driveway.

“It’s going to be ok, honey!” her mom smiled. Her dad had already turned around and gone back inside.

As the door to the vehicle slammed shut, all she could think about was Jake.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture his.

Afterword

Thank you so much for checking out this sample of Sleeper, the first book in The Waking Sleep series. I hope you’ve enjoyed it!

If you’re interested in continuing the journey, you can find the full version on Amazon for only $2.99 - or free with Kindle Unlimited.

I love hearing from readers, so if you’ve got some time and feel like dropping me a line, please do!

Can’t wait to hear from you,

~Lucy

www.thewakingsleepseries.com

lucyadlerauthor@gmail.com

PS – Now get some sleep… ;)