what's the name?

Chapter 5

As we ate, their conversation drifted to a rumor buzzing around the school: another institution was supposedly giving out pills to students, pills that promised vivid dreams. "My sister, she's a teacher at the elementary school down the road, said they're getting those pills too," one of them chirped, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

"Seriously? Dream pills?" another classmate exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"Yeah! Apparently, the teachers and some scientists are saying students should take them before sleeping. It's supposed to, like, enhance your dreams or something."

"Whoa," I murmured, half-listening as I chewed on a piece of chicken.

"You know," a third classmate chimed in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "remember Ma'am (our advisor) said she had an announcement for us later this afternoon? Maybe that's it!"

A ripple of speculation ran through the group. Dream pills? It sounded like something straight out of a science fiction movie. I tried to dismiss it, focusing on my food, but the idea had already taken root in my mind. Dream pills… what kind of dreams would they conjure? Would they be fantastical adventures, terrifying nightmares, or just mundane replays of the day's events? I told myself it was just a silly rumor, but deep down, a flicker of excitement ignited within me.

The afternoon classes dragged on, each minute stretching into an eternity. The thought of the dream pills hung in the air, a tantalizing mystery that buzzed beneath the surface of every lesson. Finally, the clock struck 3:15, signaling the end of classes. But we weren't free to go just yet. We had to wait until 4 pm for the gates to open, a frustratingly arbitrary rule that always seemed to prolong the school day.

As we waited in our room, a palpable sense of anticipation filled the air. Finally, our advisor, Ma'am Reyes, strode to the front of the classroom, her face radiating an air of importance. "Alright, class, I have an important announcement to make," she said, her voice commanding our attention.

A hush fell over the room as she launched into her spiel. The school, in collaboration with a research group, was looking for volunteers to participate in a week-long study. The study involved taking a special pill that was designed to induce vivid dreams. Ma'am Reyes was quick to reassure us that the pill was perfectly safe and would not cause any harm to our bodies. The purpose of the study, she explained, was to gain a better understanding of the human mind through the analysis of our dreams. After taking the pill each night, we would be required to record our dreams in a journal, detailing every bizarre image, every fleeting emotion, every fragmented narrative.

"They want to… survey our dreams? To understand human beings?" I whispered to myself, my mind racing. It sounded both intriguing and slightly unsettling.

Ma'am Reyes then distributed consent forms, one for us to sign and another for our parents. We were given the option to participate or decline without any pressure. As I stared at the form, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled through my head. Would my mom, who was currently working in Saudi Arabia, even allow me to do this? It seemed like a pretty big decision to make without her input. But then again, I knew how much she valued education and scientific advancement. If I really wanted to do this, I had a feeling she would support me. I glanced up at the ceiling, lost in contemplation, the consent form a weighty question mark in my hand.