The Dreamosphere: Someone is stealing the happiness from Gwen's dreams

By Shari L. Schwarz

What if dreams don't disappear when we wake up? Haunted by her sister's death, 11-year-old Gwenevere Stoker takes solace in the Dreamosphere, a dimension where all dreams still exist. But when someone starts hacking into her dreamosphere and destroying her dreams, it starts affecting Gwen in adverse ways in the waking world. Gwen teams up with an intriguing ally and embarks upon a wildly imaginative adventure through the land of dreams to find the culprit--and stop him. What will happen to Gwen when all her dreams are gone? What critical clues lie within the pages of her dream journal? And what does Edgar Allan Poe have to do with it all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cedar Fort Publishing & Media
• Release date: Jul 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781462108947

Book preview

Prologue

The river of dark chocolate seemed to go on for ever. A thick layer of brown clung to Gwen’s arms and legs, weighing her down. To many kids, this would be a dream come true—but not to Gwen Stoker.

Oh man, she moaned, regretting her earlier decision to chug all the chocolate she could. Her stomach gurgled unhappily.

Gwen puffed her cheeks out as a violent hiccup lifted her whole body. She didn’t know how long she’d been drifting along, cushioned on the giant, sprinkle-covered doughnut. What she did know was that there was enough chocolate in the river to satisfy her for a lifetime. Once she got over her current nausea, of course.

Gwen’s dirty blonde hair, made brunette by the chocolate, fluttered in the breeze. She brushed a strand of it out of her face and looked around.

The countryside was not particularly abnormal. Gwen had definitely seen stranger, but still, she knew that this landscape was one of a kind. Although the few buildings in the distance looked like unassuming farmhouses, Gwen knew better. With trained eyes, she saw that the homes were not so average after all.

The siding, which to anyone else would look like wood, was actually made out of money. Squinting, she could make out the shapes of thousands of bills plastering the walls. Gwen hadn’t been sure that the houses were made of money at first, but the chimneys gave it away—they were spewing out pennies, not smoke. The houses gleamed strangely green, and the driveways were paved in silver coins. Gwen was pretty sure that if she got closer to the trees, she’d undoubtedly see dollar bills instead of leaves dangling from the branches.

Are you thick yet?

Gwen looked down at the fat, cartoonish frog that had suddenly appeared next to her on the doughnut. Its glistening eyes peered at her innocently.

She raised an eyebrow. Thick?

The frog nodded—as much as its meaty neck would allow.

Thick. From the chocolate. I am!

Gwen finally realized why she couldn’t understand what the creature was saying.

"Oh! Sick!" She laughed.

Uh, yeth …, the amphibian said, slightly annoyed. What? What’th the matter?

Gwen pointed at the frog’s mouth. Your, uh … your tongue … you have a lisp in this world.

I do? Theriouthly? The frog made a few thh, thh sounds, then rolled its eyes. Oh man, I do. That’th embarrathing.

It’s okay, Tabitha, Gwen said. I used to have a lisp when I was little. That must be why you have one here. She patted the frog’s head. Thorry!

They floated along in silence for a while. On either side of the river, vast fields of corn stretched into the distance, healthy and green. Gwen took a deep breath, sighing contentedly. As she watched the fields go by, the tranquil beauty was interrupted suddenly by the appearance of a decrepit scarecrow that peered at them from between the stalks. Its body was grossly understuffed, while its burlap face bulged out like a swollen water balloon. Gwen put a hand in the chocolate and paddled nervously. Something about the scarecrow’s grin made her skin crawl.

I hope he’s not the Original, she whispered to Tabitha. "Creep-ee!"

The chubby frog stretched its neck, looking toward the corn. What? C’mon. He’th cute. Look at thothe armth. Thothe legth. What a hottie.

Gwen pretended to throw up and took a final look at the scraggy scarecrow. She watched its eyes, willing it to blink, though how buttons could blink, she didn’t know. However, just before she rounded a bend in the river, the scarecrow looked directly at her and gave her a wink.

Gwen shuddered, but at least she now knew that the mass of shredded material and stuffing wasn’t the one they were looking for. What a relief. That was not a face she wished to see again.

Thee …, a voice said in her ear. I think he liketh you.

Gwen crinkled her nose. All I know is we need to get out of Farmville. We’ll never find the Original if we stay here.

The exact amount of time they had to explore a Dream-Orb was always a guessing game. Gwen could snap awake at any moment. They needed to find the Original. Up ahead, they could see a rickety plank of wood lying across the river.

We’ll get out there, Tabitha said.

Gwen looked down at the frog and just couldn’t resist the impulse she felt. She flicked the bulbous creature’s back, causing it to tip forward and nosedive into the chocolate.

Ahh! Help! Tabitha cried, struggling to the surface. The frog bobbed up and down frantically. Gwen! I can’t uthe my armth in thith thtuff! I’m like a T-Rexth! I’m gonna die! Hel—

"You’re a frog, you nerd," Gwen drawled, making no move to help.

Tabitha stopped struggling and, much to her relief, found that she was, indeed, completely buoyant in the chocolate. Her eyes beamed with adrenaline as she turned toward the shore. I’ll get you back for that one, Gwen Thtoker.

Gwen followed her friend out of the creamy, brown liquid. She expected to have to dry off and wring out her hair, but in an instant she was completely dry and chocolate-free. The frog looked at her, kicked off its pudgy back legs, and then, in a flash, transformed into a six-year-old girl with unblinking gray eyes.

You could’ve done that all along, you know, Gwen said, referring to Tabitha’s transformation. Drama queen.

Tabitha, able to walk easily with her companion, took the older girl’s hand, smiling. I know. But where’th the fun in—dang it! I thtill have the lithp?

Ha! Gwen said. "There’s the fun."

They walked along a narrow path, which like the farmhouses’ driveways, was made up of silver coins. After cresting a short incline, they saw a town dotting the valley below.

Finally! Gwen said. I was starting to wonder if there was anything but chocolate and corn in this Orb. Not that those are bad things.

It was not the town that held Tabitha’s interest, however. It was the mountain of pink fluff that stood between it and them. A strong whiff of sweetness washed over them. Gwen cocked her head. What is that? It almost looks like—

Cotton candy! Tabitha squealed, cramming a chunk of it in her mouth. "Thith thtuff ith tho groth. But tho good …"

She tucked handful after handful of cotton candy into her mouth, reminding Gwen of a hamster tucking food away in its cheeks for later.

Gwennie, Tabitha said, have thome of thith! She fashioned a beard and mustache out of the pink fluff, and turned to Gwen, proudly patting it to her face. Huh? You like?

Gwen laughed. You can have it. I hate that stuff! I’m about to pass out from the smell. She put her hands on her hips, considering the blob before them. The large, pink fluff vaguely resembled the shape of a circus big top, but it was soft and rounded and swayed slightly with the breeze. Gwen considered walking around the thing, but the rest of the valley appeared to be covered in tall, prickly weeds, which wouldn’t feel good on her bare feet.

They looked at each other and shrugged. Gwen took Tabitha’s hand. Tallyho!

They ran into the fluff, immediately becoming immersed in darkness. Well, pinkness. Though they walked side by side, the girls could barely see one another. Gwen swatted at her nose and eyes, trying to get rid of the cobweb sensation. They pushed armfuls of cotton candy to the side and proceeded slowly, hoping there weren’t any sudden drop-offs hidden in it. For the most part, Gwen and Tabitha walked, but in some places, the pink fluff was thick enough to crawl over. It felt like trying to move over the bouncy surface of large half-inflated balloons.

Tabitha was strangely silent as they walked along. Tabs? Gwen ventured, trying to peer through the pinkness. Tabitha choked on a wad of cotton candy, unable to form proper words.

Good enough, Gwen said, giggling. Just trying to make sure you were still with me.

Gwen sure hoped they were moving in the right direction. The inability to see reminded her of the horrible feeling she got under water when she couldn’t open her eyes. Suddenly, the pink fluff broke open. Gwen climbed out into the sunshine and sat precariously on the pink fluff, looking around. Uh-oh. She’d been crawling up, not forward. It was a little frightening to see how high she was, but at least she could gauge their progress and figure out which direction to proceed in.

Gwen was surprised to find that from above, the pink mist was nearly see-through. She could see Tabitha shuffling along about twenty feet below, hands outstretched like a mummy. Following close behind her was another figure. Gwen blinked. Who was that? She could see nearly a dozen other bodies, wandering around aimlessly. She’d had no idea that there were other people in there with them. Gwen made a face as someone walked past Tabitha, coming within inches of the girl’s body, neither seeming to sense the other. Before Gwen had time to think, a strange prickling sensation on her neck caused her to look back. Her eyes grew huge and her heartbeat quickened. Oh, no …

Just coming into the candy fluff, at the same spot Gwen and Tabitha had entered a few minutes earlier, was a large man with the head of a vulture. Standing nearly seven feet tall, the man was wide and muscular. Though he wore pants and a shirt, the man’s arms were covered in layers of orange-brown feathers. His feet were not feet at all, but large, knotty talons. The saggy gray skin of his neck tightened as the vulture head looked up. Gwen flinched away from the gaze of the red eyes.

How had he found them?

She opened her mouth to call out to Tabitha, but the sight of long claw-like fingers parting the pink mist kept her silent. She stumbled over the top of the cotton candy, tripping several times. Gwen saw, with relief, that Tabitha was just a few steps away from exiting the fluff. She jumped up and grabbed her knees, cannon-ball style, and then plummeted to the ground, landing next to Tabitha.

She grabbed the girl’s hand and yanked her into the sunlight, running.

He’s here! The vulture-man!

What? Tabitha cried.

Back there! she said, panting. We’ve got to find the Original!

Ahead was a large shopping complex, with a brightly lit movie theater in the center. The theater marquee announced that the movie playing was Poe Liked Pudding. Gwen almost smirked. Poe again. References to Edgar Allan Poe were always appearing in her dreams. And pudding … well, she loved it, that was all. The sidewalks were crowded, but Gwen and Tabitha ran around frantically, not in any specific direction, looking at everyone and anything with a set of eyes, because this was the only way to find the desired target. It was all in the eyes.

Tabitha hopped onto a café table, the people seated around it not seeming to mind at all. She scanned the crowd, frequently looking back at the pink cloud, as though expecting to see their nemesis emerge any moment. Gwen, meanwhile, moved through the crowds inside a pizza parlor.

Tabitha? she called. The gray-eyed girl, standing on her tiptoes, shook her head, frowning. Then she saw it. Him, rather. Seated on the ledge of an old marble fountain, aimlessly twirling his fingers in the water—the Original.

Gwen! she shouted. The fountain. The dude with the thweater vetht.

Gwen saw the man and turned toward him, but she’d barely gone two steps when the sky suddenly turned white. Blindingly white. Gwen’s shoulders slumped. They weren’t going to have time to take him back to base. Seconds later the sky turned sunflower yellow. She looked back at Tabitha, and they exchanged a look of extreme frustration. Gwen ran to join Tabitha on the table as, in a matter of seconds, the sky flashed all the colors of the rainbow—green, then blue, then purple, then red.

Something caught Gwen’s eye. She swallowed and squinted through the crowd. She wasn’t imagining it. Her dreaded adversary, the disgusting half-man, half-vulture—the being who had infiltrated her dream-web and was trying to destroy it, destroy her—was standing next to the Original, smiling wickedly. Her stomach flip-flopped. They were too late for this Original. This one was doomed. The sky turned black and the girls jumped into the air.

One

Sitting in social studies on the first day of school, Gwenevere Stoker looked at the words her teacher had just written on the whiteboard and rolled her eyes. Their essay topic was Why I Love My Life.

Seriously?

The teacher shot her gaze to the rear of the classroom, eyebrows arched like two upside-down V’s. What? Gwen? Did you say something? Did you have a question about the essay?

Uh, yeah, Gwen said, sitting forward. "Are you serious? How can you force us to write something like that? I mean, what if you don’t love your life? What if you hate your life? You can’t assume that everyone loves their life just because yours is perfect."

The tiny woman looked as if she’d been slapped. A few people chuckled under their breaths. Most just rolled their eyes. They were well acquainted with Gwen’s cynical, confrontational attitude. Ms. Sprague should’ve been made aware of it too, before the school year began, if her fellow faculty members had felt any amount of compassion toward her.

Before further discussion could ensue, however, the bell rang and the students leaped from their desks. Gwen gathered her things slowly, feeling the young teacher’s eyes on her. Ms. Sprague was new to Hope Falls Elementary. In fact, she was new to teaching, this being her first official job as an educator. Gwen was delighted with herself for leaving a bad taste in the woman’s mouth at the end of her first day. She placed a few more bite marks onto an already disgustingly gnarled pencil and left it on the desk for the next occupant to find.

Gwen, may I speak to you? Ms. Sprague asked in a voice meant to sound authoritative. Gwen ignored her and walked out of the room.

Gwen, her teacher called a little louder. Gwen!

How you loving your life right now? Gwen thought with a smirk.

She pushed past a group of classmates hovering near the exit and heard them mutter something rude. She assumed they were most likely talking about her. Whatever.

It was a beautiful day, but Gwen didn’t notice this as she trudged home from school. Her legs were nearly burning by the time she reached her front porch. The walk to and from