Dreaming Winds

The young boy, no older than eight, lay on the table. He would have been motionless but for the severe tremouring caused by his extreme case of nerves. Those around him tried to settle him, but it wasn't any use. All of a sudden, the boy calmed and he began to sink back into the soft, plastic table, not as comfortable as a bed, but at least sufficient. It was like a wind of change had blown over him as his eyelids closed and he became seemingly dead to the world.

The girl was jerking and thrashing about uncontrollably. The people wanted to help, but it was no use. The girl's eyes had been closed as she moved about, and she'd seen nothing but blackness. Up until now. Now, there was a hand, reaching out to her. Cautiously, she moved her own hand towards the one outstretched to her and when her hand was close enough, the strange hand took her hand in it's and begin to drag her up and out.

Meanwhile, those that surrounded her had frozen in complete disbelief. She'd just.... stopped. That couldn't happen. Could it? Seizures didn't just stop. Well, they did, but they often, with her anyway, became lesser and lesser before the abrupt halting of a conclusion. With them again, the girl sat up as if nothing had happened, blinking numerous times in quick succession as if nothing had happened.

He shook his head. He'd heard it too many times. He peered through the crack left by the slightly ajar door to see the small toddler. Inside, just as he'd suspected, the little girl's face was an alarming shade of red and her cheeks were wet with the frightened tears she'd been crying. 'I can fix that,' he thought as sympathy flooded his face.

The little girl relaxed and the tears dried up as the gust of fresh air flew past her face. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she fell back into the lush, leather chair. The noises of the various instruments started up, which normally would have bothered her. But, this time, she was completely oblivious, lost someplace else.

When it was time, all over, the hand appeared to her and curious and ever trusting, she took it, giving whoever's face belonged to the hand one of her warmest, best smiles. Just as her eyes had fluttered shut, the fluttered open again and she looked around the room.
"Have they done anything yet?"
"It's all over." Answered her mother, gently squeezing her brave daughter's hand.

The little girl couldn't stop chattering away as her mother led her back to the car by hand.
"I went up in the clouds, and there was a pretty bunny, and I went flying!"
"Really?" Her mother asked, amused as she turned to look at the small girl. "How did you do that."
"There was these really big ribbons and the fell from the sky and then I was holding onto both of them, real tight and I was in the middle of them and I flew!"
"You flew." The little girl's mother repeated disbelievingly. "That's nice." She shook her head vigorously. This was a small child. Children had big, wild imaginations. And, on top of all that, she had been asleep the whole time she'd been in the chair. The mother breathed a sigh of relief. Her daughter had dreamt the whole thing.

If they knew he existed, people would call him a saint, the Creature mused as he wandered the now near empty halls of the paediatric hospital, others would call him a Mystery Magic Man. But he would have shrugged it away. He wasn't doing it to be praised, after all. He was doing it because it was what he was good at, and he could, and he liked to do it. To see the peace and serenity wash over the children as he breathed a wave of calm over them. The smiles that formed on their lips as they watched the dreams he'd given them play out. The sparkle of wonder in their eyes as they wandered away, complete in awe, unable to stop talking. Telling their parents everything they'd just seen.

Giving them happy dreams and taking them far away in their minds. Reawakening their imaginations and helping them to believe once again.