There is no rush. Take your time, but keep us updated.

I've completed the foundations for my own character. I might add more shares later, but the first two will suffice for now. I've also left the relations section blank for now; thought I'd write them all together.

[hider=Maya Chen]

[center][img=http://i354.photobucket.com/albums/r401/Helloareepicrisk/mc_zps1f74c57f.jpg][/center]

[b]Name:[/b] Maya Chen
[b]Age:[/b] 48
[b]Appearance:[/b] A peculiar, troubled looking woman of Chinese heritage standing 5’5, with dark hair and slender build. Usually wears cardigan-themed loose, bohemian clothing on top of tighter, jean-oriented apparel. She never wears make-up unless it is a formal occasion, and she rarely does anything with her hair.

[b]Condition:[/b] Waking Nightmares. A waking dream is a phenomenon similar to hallucination that projects objects and people from a dream in reality when the dreamer has awakened. The dreamer can see distorted images, dark apparitions, and disfiguration of objects and people in the real world. A common defense mechanism for the body is to shut down, so that the dreamer cannot move and ‘live the dream,’ but this does not happen in Maya’s case. The longest amount of time that she has lived a nightmare is four hours.

[b]Shares[/b]
[i]I don’t know where to begin. I never do. I often wish that I could begin in the middle of things, as by then the words flow without interruption or hesitation. My name is Maya Chen, and by now I suppose I should be called Chinese-American, but I wasn’t born here—my family moved to the states from Foshan, China when I was two years old, in 1949. My father never told me the reason as to why we moved to America, but my mother hinted at World War II having something to do with it. Alas, my father died ten years ago, and my mother died shortly after. I have no brothers or sisters.[/i]

[i]I cannot recall when my troubles first began, but I do know that I was working at the time—I’m a professor with the Department of Philosophy at Columbia University. In the beginning, they were just regular nightmares and I thought nothing of it, as people have nightmares every day, all around the world. But then, before I realized that it happened, the nightmares occurred every night. They were extremely abstract, and not even a dream interpreter could decipher them—a colleague of mine referred me. This is when the prescription drugs came into the picture.[/i]

[i]A month or two after the first set of pills, I realized that they were ineffective, and the nightmares escalated in intensity and anti-surrealism. They became so real that at one point I was unable to distinguish between memories and dreams. I didn’t know whether I had actually seen those horrific things or not. And then, it hit me like a rig on the freeway; I suffered my first waking nightmare, which to date is the longest and most horrifying that I’ve ever experienced. The hallucinations persisted for four hours, at which point I decided to quit the medication and find a better solution.[/i]

[i]The nightmares were rooted much deeper than I first suspected. My first private therapy sessions helped me to reach this conclusion, but it also helped me to understand that the nightmares will probably never fully go away. I will always have to live with the possibility of experiencing waking nightmares, but as long as I know why, I believe that I will be able to cope with it.[/i]

[i]However, I cannot participate in the hypnosis part of Doctor Blake’s treatment. I realize that it is an important and essential part, but my previous experiences with hypnosis did not end well. I fell into a state of lucid dreaming during the ‘procedure.’ I was aware of the situation and the fact that I was dreaming, but neither me nor my therapist could bring me back. I simply had to ride it out—seven hours of wandering my nightmare world.[/i]

[i]Regular therapy was alright, but this group therapy concept, I believe, will be even better. I rarely speak of my troubles with people, unless I absolutely have to, but perhaps it is the answer to making the nightmares less intense and prevent the waking.[/i]

[center]***[/center]

[i]I often dream about the ocean. I fear it, and all the things that might rest beneath it. Somehow, I always imagine ancient things slumbering and floundering on the muddied ocean floor, and in my nightmares, I stand before structures of the old world, symbols, and effigies that depict ancient man worshipping these scaly, unspeakable horrors. I never know what to make of it, perhaps I’m going insane, but I cannot help but to feel their presence whenever I stare at the ocean and feel its frigid breeze against my face. I don’t consider myself to have a phobia. These things are just figments of my imagination, and not real. I just thought it was worth mentioning, for some reason. [/i]

[i]I suppose this reason is validation. I want to convince myself that it isn’t real, but sometimes the real world challenges my conceptions. A few weeks ago, I saw a man who was sleeping behind a dumpster, on my way to work. I noticed that this man was making twitching and jerking movements with his body, movements with which I was all too familiar. I approached him carefully, and then put my hand against his shoulder and shook him gently, so as to wake him up. When he awoke, he asked me what I wanted. I replied that it looked like he was having a bad dream, and that I had extensive experience with bad dreams and that I wanted to wake him up. As he turned his face around to thank me, I saw that a small portion of his face, his lower cheek and ear, were covered in shimmering scale, similar to the creatures that I’ve seen in my nightmares.[/i]

[i]I don’t know if this incident was real. It was too vivid to be a nightmare, but it could just have been another waking episode of mine. I have been forever bewildered by this event, because I don’t remember me sleeping that day at all. I remember that I stayed up all night, to work, and to prevent myself from sleeping. Perhaps I fell asleep on the subway—some form of micro nap, just a minute or two. I cannot have been real; of course it wasn’t real…[/i]

[center]***[/center]

[i]“There are times when I feel as if something is missing in my life, but I cannot for the best of me imagine what it is. Why would something be missing? I have no family of my own and my parents are long dead. I’m completely alone, but I’m fine with that. Sometimes, however, I see a young child in my nightmares, a girl, that is being pulled down underneath the waves of the ocean by some horrid creature with scaly tentacles. But, I never had a child, so I don’t know why I persistently dream about this child,” Maya said.

“Have you ever been married, Maya?” said Dr. Blake.

“Yes, I was married once, but we divorced sometime after my parents died. I don’t recall why. I supposed things didn’t work out.”

“How come you don’t recall why you and your husband divorced?”

“I think I was on the prescription drugs by then, because of my nightmares. I think they did some damage to my memory, but I only seem to forget negative events, which is good.”

“Don’t you think that is peculiar?”

“How do you mean?”

“That you completely forget bad incidents and events.”

“Maybe, I haven’t thought about it like that before.”

“Alright, so, you dreamt about this child, and then what happened?”

“Nothing happens really. The child either drowns or is pulled under by the creatures in my nightmares. I know what you, all of you, might be thinking: that I had a child once and she drowned and now I’m having these nightmares and I’ve repressed that incident beyond my memory, but that’s not it. I already checked it myself. There are no records of me ever giving birth to a child. I think I would remember that kind of pain.”

“Are you sure?”

Maya hesitated for a second, pondering and reliving her life in her mind. “…yes, I’m positive.”[/i]

[b]Relations[/b]
[i]When I was young I thought my parents were dinosaurs, as the generational gap was horrendously huge. I thought my parents were old and stupid. When it comes to Aimee Askins, I’m the dinosaur I suppose, old and stupid. I can imagine that’s what she thinks, but I’m not sure. Strangely, I often find myself caring for her wellbeing more than I should. Perhaps it’s my motherly instincts that are playing their tricks on me, twisting and warping my mind. Sometimes, Aimee reminds me of the child in my dreams, but older. I don’t know what it means or if it means anything at all. But, even if I see her type quite often at the university, though not in my classes, I like her—she gives this otherwise moody and aging group a touch of sparkle with her presence.

Alma Evans has an air of academia about her. Perhaps I’m wrong, but most of those employed at my offices sport the same bombastic aura as she does. I imagine that if my condition ever results in anything, it will result in something similar to her condition. However, I’ve gotten used to the dark by now and all the things that lurk therein. I don’t know why I feel a sense of attachment to her. Is it because of her age, being merely ten years younger? Is it because of her related condition? I’m not sure, but I haven’t spent nearly enough time with her to feel this way. Perhaps we are not as compatible as I’d like to think.

Whenever he speaks, Joseph does not appear to utter more words than absolutely necessary. This is a virtue that some of my colleagues should adopt, considering all the bullshit that often stem from their mouths. Naturally, I haven’t conversed much with Joseph, but I suppose that’s the very reason for my fondness of him. There seems to be a silent bond between us that does not need to be disrupted by idle chatter or superfluous conversation, similar to old farmers who have known each other for years but never exchanged more than a few sentences here and there. To be honest, if it wasn’t for the taste, I’d take to the bottle as well.

Handsome man seems out of place in this group. The fact that Kyle has a condition does not fit his person, or rather his looks. His person seems almost altruistic from what I can tell. I’ve spoken with him a few times, before and after the sessions, due to his resembling condition. I think we connect well on that level, as we’ve shared with each other a number of insights and tips and tricks on how to better cope with the dreams and the world as we see it.[/i]
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