The only tip off that it was a dream came from the perspective being in two places at once. Otherwise, the vividness of the scenery would’ve tricked Samantha into believing it was really happening. Even so, being lucid didn’t matter in this case because the terrain was merciless regardless of what Samantha threw at it, and the landslide was eating up everything in its path. From above, it looked like the hillside became dislodged about a mile up the road, and the heavy rains these past few dream-weeks meant that all the soil was loose. Mud and rocks slid down the hill and demolished trees and other greenery in their path. There were cars parked on the road, or driving, and they too took damage thanks to the landslide. Some slid along with it for a while until they upturned. Others were simply buried in the rush of mud as it overcame them.

From the perspective on the ground, Samantha watched the landslide eat up everything that was to the west of her location. It crushed the foundations of houses along the road, few and far between though they were, and sent them cascading downward as if they were ships on a current. The noise was an earthen, muffled crackle as the rocks and mud upended tree roots and concrete foundations, and the fall of the trees triggered more land to slide. There was no escaping it if you were in its path. Samantha thought she wasn’t in its path until the perspective switched again to the eagle-eyed view.

At first it had appeared that everything in the west was flowing northward, but in reality its whole trajectory was a swell both northward and eastward. It just so happened the northward end was faster.

Which meant Samantha was in its path. The perspective jolted back to the ground, and she, realizing the danger she was in, took off running. She might’ve known it was a dream thanks to being lucid, but that didn’t change the fact that pain could be felt in the dreamscape, and that the dangers of a dream could be felt sometimes in the waking world—as unexplained aches and pains, as unbridled fear, as paralysis and sleepwalking. So she ran.

What she’d tried to do before was stop the landslide’s trajectory with manifested objects of great scope imagined into existence in its path, but seeing as even the houses were crumbling down the hills, that plan hadn’t worked.

For some reason, she thought of her waking life as she ran southward.

A conversation between her and one of her friends:

“So how are things?”

Things are terrible. I hid in the bathroom and cried my eyes out just now and it’s a miracle my makeup is holding up. Guess it really is waterproof. “Fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

It’s a lie. “Yup.”

The earth in the dreamscape trembled. It shook her footing and she almost tumbled to the ground but caught herself. A conversation she’d had with her mother entered her head.

“So how was school?”

My grades are in the shitter and I don’t know if I can turn it around before the next term. I cried in the bathroom again, and nobody noticed. Then again, at the time, I was hiding. “Fine.”

The land became slippery in its orientation, a large chunk of earth lifting off the ground behind Samantha and forcing her onto a slope. She doubled her pace to escape it.

“I’m fine,” she told herself in gasping breaths. “I’m fine.”

The earth trembled and shook, a quake adding to the destruction of the landslide. With a landslide, she could conceive of attempting to stop or redirect its flow with those large objects she manifested from the dreamscape, but with an earthquake there was nothing she thought could be done besides flee.

Again she thought of the bathroom. She hated it there, but then why’d she return nearly every day to cry? It was an exercise in masochism, probably. But she was fine. She was fine!

The earthquake got stronger, so strong that Samantha lost her footing and screamed as she fell flat then rolled along the ground, stones and debris biting into her skin as she skidded across the pavement.

Then there was a woman standing over her. A slender woman with absurdly long blonde hair who carried a sword. The woman helped Samantha up and introduced herself as Akki, Slayer of Nightmares, and Samantha couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could slay a natural disaster.

“You can halt it if you know whence it came,” said Akki. “What is it that’s breaking your spirits?”

“My spirits? No wait, we don’t have time for this. We have to keep moving.”

No argument there. They ran together.

“If you can find what it is that began the quakes,” said Akki, who didn’t seem to run out of breath as she ran, which was surprising given whatever was wrong with her neck. “You might be able to calm them. What was it that upset you in your waking life? The thing you aren’t addressing.”

“I told you we don’t have time for this.”

The earth opened up before them, and they had to grind to a stop. Now the destruction was on both sides and closing in fast, and Samantha couldn’t see a way out of being overcome. It was all just too much. She collapsed to the ground, panting, and Akki stood over her, seeming to observe.

The crumbling mass of earth that imploded in front of them sunk cars and mailboxes and soon houses into its depths but it wasn’t traveling further, only deeper, and, looking over the edge, Samantha saw that at its bottom was the very bathroom in which she often cried. It was an overhead view, and she saw herself down there, curled up next to the toilet, sobbing. Of course the hole was big enough that that wasn’t the only thing at the bottom, and the rest of the school formed itself around the bathroom, but Samantha focused on the stall where the other her sat in misery.

It was dirty. She’d been fucked somewhere dirty.

“But I’m fine now,” she whispered to herself. “It’s over and no one found out.”

Akki knelt by her. A hurtle of a shake in the earth jolted them both forward, and Akki had to snatch at Samantha’s shirt to keep her from falling in. They scrambled backward.

“I doubt you’re fine based on the state of this dreamscape,” said Akki. “What happened down there?”

“Nothi—” The ground quaked again and Samantha shut her mouth. She and Akki splayed on the ground to keep from being uprooted. After a long while listening to the landslide behind them and gazing at the drop below, Samantha sighed. “It’s me, isn’t it? The reason for all this destruction?”

“A person’s dreamscape does reflect who they are,” said Akki. “Or who they were, or will be, or hope or fear to be.”

“Something did happen in that bathroom. I just haven’t talked about it.”

This time, the earth didn’t move any more than it already had.

“So that’s it? All I have to do is keep quiet? Not say I’m fine when I’m not?” It seemed too simple to Samantha, but Akki nodded.

“Perhaps that will stop further damage,” said Akki. “But I doubt it’ll fix what’s already been broken.”

“I’d ask how to fix what’s already been done, but it’s unfixable.”

Everything darkened as a storm cloud rolled into the dreamscape’s sky from the south. It looked large and angry, and lightning dashed inside its depths. There was no rain, only thunderous anticipation of when lightning would strike.

“Now what,” said Samantha, exasperated.

“I have a suggestion.” Akki got up to her knees and peered at the foreboding clouds. “If saying you’re fine when you’re not makes it worse, and keeping quiet has brought us this soon-to-be storm, perhaps saying how you really feel would dispel some of the nightmare.”

“That seems too simple.”

“Sometimes important things are simple.”

“Fine.” Samantha got up with Akki’s help and groaned. “I hope this doesn’t make it any worse.”

The clouds hovered over them ominously.

“Well?”

“I was…” Now that she’d decided to do it, the words didn’t seem to come. “I was in the bathroom when it happened. I don’t know why I keep revisiting that stall. You’d think I’d avoid it.” The fact she hadn’t told anyone gave her a clue about her own behavior. Maybe she revisited the scene of the crime because deep down she needed to, and without talking about it, reliving it was her only option. So maybe Akki had a point. “The guy, he wasn’t supposed to be in the girl’s bathroom, but he was there, waiting. Maybe not for me, maybe for someone else. But he was there, and he made quick work of shoving me in that stall and… and…”

“Taking advantage?” asked Akki.

“That’s one way of putting it. It hurt. It hurt a lot. And I couldn’t scream for some reason. For some reason, I just let him. That’s why I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even know the guy. He must’ve been from another year. When he was done, he zipped up his pants and just left me there.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I don’t know why I haven’t said anything to anyone. It’s like I’m scared of it, but I don’t know the reason for being afraid when I’m not the one who did anything wrong. Unless maybe I think I did do something wrong. But I don’t know what that was, if I did. It just feels wrong to talk. I don’t even know his name.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you know his name. What matters is what he did is doing this,” Akki gestured to the dreamscape and then the bathroom at the bottom of the opened earth. “To you.”

The storm hadn’t gotten worse. The ground hadn’t quaked. The landslide hadn’t found them in its path as Samantha had spoken.

“Nothing can change the past,” said Akki. “But how one deals with it is up to them, and sometimes a person with a friendly ear can do more than exchange pleasantries. There’s no shame in needing help. Or wanting it. Keeping blocked off tends to be worse than letting out the truth. If you’ll let me, I can be that friendly ear.”

“I’ll let you.”

For the next six months, Samantha met Akki in the dreamscape night after night, until the landslide and earthquake’s destruction was blanketed with new growth and the storm clouds ceased to visit.