I woke up next to girl. It was dark, and the bed was in a wide, dark studio. The head of the bed was up against a thick beam or pipe, there was a soft yellow light coming from somewhere in the room, and toward the foot of the bed was a hallway with a bathroom.
The girl was venting, commenting about her boyfriend. She was upset because they wanted different things in their relationship, one of them to get married but the other didn't and she wanted to feel alive again. She mentioned how she never gets to leave the house. She is sitting up at this point and is very beautiful. A thick head of bouncy blonde curls. Small nose. Green-blue eyes. Freckles everywhere.
I wanted to make her feel better, so I sit up as well and tell her that I know the feeling. I think back for something to say to bond with her, to connect over. I mention that when I was pregnant with each of my kids, I never got out of the house or went anywhere either. As I'm saying this, I look up and my husband is right there, coming out of the bathroom all dressed for work, still rummaging around for his work things. She accepts this and vents again about her boyfriend and how confusing he is and that she's not sure what to do next.
She turns to me and asks if I'm gay. It catches me off guard, because surely she sees my husband in front of us? Then again, I'm in bed with her. I deny it with a laugh, but then I toss in "sometimes." I can't look straight at her because I feel awkward and embarrassed and pretty certain I've just said more than I needed to. I repeat "sometimes" while turning deep red. Looking past her, I see a metal ladder, maybe pipe? It feels out of place.
Hubby comes back into the room and starts telling me what he is going to do that day. He points beyond the head of the bed, saying he's going to get his truck or bobcat out of the lot. I turn around to see that the pole the bed is up against is actually a power pole, and the entire bed is outside!
I warn him that he's gonna get stuck if he's not careful. He said, "Nah, I'll be fine." But I look around and it's beginning to snow. The flakes are large and beautiful. Even as they land to blend in among each other, I can tell they are each unique and special. I tell him he might not think he'll get stuck, but in all this snow, he might.
The snow fascinates me. I want to play and enjoy it. I throw off the covers and leap out of bed (much to the amusement of the woman—she sees that I'm only wearing a thin shirt and very short shorts). I run around the snow, laughing and having fun, and I want to see it closer. I lean forward to examine the snowflakes. Rather than me getting closer, the flakes grow larger. They get about two feet across, and they're extremely detailed and beautiful. I pick one up and hold it in my hands. I can barely feel the cold at all. I'm not sure if it's melting in my fingers or not yet...it should...but just in case, I take a huge bite out of it at the top. It's amazing. It's like thin ice, but with the texture of a snow cone. It melts in my mouth and I love it. That's the last I see of the snow, though.
I go inside. Hubby is working (and I believe he got out just fine without getting really stuck) and there are two women inside. One is my sister in law. We're watching the kids and talking, and someone mentions food. I think I described the snowflake and eating it. My sister in law says something about 'Rumplefoodkin.'
I think that's hilarious and adorable. I comment, "Ha! Rumplestiltskin with food, I love it!" and I continue on about how I'd love to meet him, all his magic creates food and it's just him with lots of food. I try to imagine if all that food would have made him fat, but I can't picture him any different than the tall, thin, gorgeous, golden dark one. Then she says, "I don't know who that is." And I'm confused (and kind of laughing though) because she was the one who said his name in the first place.
I woke up (for real this time) dreaming of Rumplefoodkin.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Thrown to the Wolves
It began at a fish store.
I know that sounds odd, because it seems that quite a few of my dreams take place inside a fish store. But I can't control it; there we were.
When I say 'we' I'm referring to my best friend and I. We were in this fish store, separately; she was off somewhere else in the store and I was along the northern wall on the left-hand side of the store. I was browsing through the tanks when I came upon a baby beaver. It was caged much like a small turtle might be, in a terrarium with equal measure land and water. The poor little thing was no bigger than my fist, but was fully-formed and was, in fact, a miniature version of a fully-grown beaver.
There was a man beside me, also browsing, also happening upon this beaver, and a conversation started. I can't say what we talked about since I really don't know, but an announcement went over the loudspeaker during the chat, calling me to the back room, where my friend awaited me. This man was very polite, handsome, friendly, kind; I felt bad that I had to leave. I told him I'd be back, and he offered this: "I'll be right here waiting. Right at the beaver. If you come back before the store closes tonight, I'll know it's meant to be." Though he didn't kiss me then, I could tell he wanted to—that he felt the same internal struggle I experienced. In a very awkward manner, we said our goodbyes and I left.
The store, for whatever reason, was split down the center into two halves. The left-most half was a fish store with the rows being very much like any typical retail chain, whereas the right-most half seemed more a club or a popular hangout spot. I can't actually say what a club looks like, I've never been. But by the Hollywood definition, it fit the bill. I met up with my friend and we talked and talked...she was so beautiful and yet she could talk you into an early grave if given half the chance. Quite the chatterbox. Anyway, the conversation reached its peak and, though I have no idea what we decided on, I agreed and went outside to my car, where I proceeded to put on my jacket. Or perhaps take it off; I distinctly recall balling up my jacket and throwing it into the backseat, but it's unclear whether I did this on this particular trip to the car or during the next one, when we left. Oh well. I did something with my jacket.
I re-entered the store, and searched through the aisles, particularly the northern wall on the left-hand side, but my knight-in-shining-smiles was nowhere to be found. I kept a smile on my face, but when I told my friend he was missing, she saw the tears in my eyes.
We went about our business—whatever that means—until nearly closing time. As I was making my way to the door once again, an employee happened to mention that there was a man sleeping in one of the aisles, on one of the lower shelves, in fact. I inquired as to where and they told me...it was the northern wall! On the left-hand side! That must have been him, clearly, but they gave me his name, since apparently they did know who he was, so I assume he actually did this quite often...and I'm rambling. I did seem to know the name, and I had a face that went with that name in my head, so when the man walked up to me, he was not the same man I had fallen for earlier that day. He was someone else, someone I was not attracted to. I nodded politely and dismissed him, and he acted as if I too was not the girl he had fallen for earlier that day. We were two different people, and why? Because it had not been in the fairytale setting by the beaver cage? Or because life had gotten in the way? Or because our vision is jaded by the sweeping romance of a lustful relationship?
Either way, the man was now gone and the beaver remained unpurchased. I gossiped about the incident to my best friend when I went back to her location on the right-hand side of the store, until it was whispered that the man I had grown fond of and the man I had dismissed were not actually the same person; they were, somehow, the same entity, yet two separate beings. I had fallen for one-half of a man, and he was beautiful. I glanced across the store. As it were, we were against the northern wall, and the stars aligned just right for me to have a clear view all the way to the left-hand side of the store, to the beaver tank, and there he stood.
I got excited to see my prince again, and rushed to leave, ready to go home—a mere cover story to give me the chance to pass by the beaver tank one last time. I didn't want to get my hopes up that it really was him, but I didn't want to miss the chance to see him again, either.
There he stood, speaking softly through the glass, whispering to the tiny animal how (most likely) he was going to set it free one day. How he'd save it from captivity and from the eyes of the onlookers. I can only assume that's what he was saying, but he was just that sort of man, you know? Adorable.
My best friend tugged at my jacket—ah, there it is...I still had it on—and she called me away. I longed for the man but I knew it was futile. Even if we met again, what would I say? What would we do? We'd just end up drifting apart and the whirlwind romance would be gone. It was too great a memory to let it disintegrate, so I conceded to my friend and we left. In very much a fairytale fashion, I tossed one last glance his way while walking out the door, and he looked up. Our eyes met, the sadness in mine reflecting back at me in his, and I knew it was over. Would he search for me, like a prince searching for the damsel in distress? Was I a damsel in distress who needed finding? So many questions arose in that glance.
My friend and I went back to my car, which in itself was an oddity in the strangeness of the dream world. It was here that I balled up my jacket and tossed it into the backseat...not just a normal toss, mind you, but I threw it through the space where the front windshield should have been, past the front seats, and into the recess which appeared to be the backseat. Everything was slightly off-white and nothing looked comfortable. I think the car was a convertible, but by that I mostly mean to say there were no windows; there were spaces for windows and a windshield, but the glass wasn't there.
We climbed into the seats and began to drive. To where, I do not know.
The weather seemed to be deteriorating quickly; what started as a clear afternoon became a windy morning (yes, time works differently in dreams) and although it didn't physically snow, there was snow on the ground. The car slid a few times on the icy road, and when it hadn't slipped in a while we thought we were safe. We were wrong.
One final patch of ice got us, and the car slid off into the ditch. We were right behind the corner of a building—not a full building that I ever saw, just the soft, yellowed corner—and in what I assume was a result of the accident, I couldn't move. I was lying there across the front seat (and yet somehow also across the hood of the car, though I was lying quite flat and parallel to the ground) and my best friend was lying to my left, which was also behind me, from the way I was spread out, mostly on my stomach but propped on my left side.
Time went by; it felt quick but I knew it to be longer. My best friend didn't have the problem I had with moving, and she was able to stand and stretch her legs. She said she would go get help, and for a minute I thought it was a great idea...until we heard them.
Wolves. In the distance, I could see their shapes moving against the snow. They were hard to make out and even harder to track, but I knew they were getting closer. My friend, she said, "I'll go get help. Stay here." I tried to warn her, tried to plead with her to stay, but she didn't seem to hear me. She left, and they made their move. She had barely rounded the corner out of view when she screamed. I knew they had gotten her.
I lay there a bit longer, and the wolves circled 'round. Slowly, they made their way inward toward the car—toward me. I discovered that I had a blanket of sorts draped across my shoulders, and I noticed my hair in wild disarray, so I tucked my head down into the seat of the car, with one eye on the wolves, and excruciatingly slowly...with the slightest of movements...I pulled the blanket to the top of my neck and buried my face beneath my hair.
I knew that if I stayed perfectly still, they wouldn't see me. Hopefully, the scent of delicious human was covered by the smoke and gasoline of the car. They drew closer, and I squeezed my eyes shut, shuddering when I felt their breath against my forehead. A tugging at my leg terrified me, and every muscle in my body stiffened in fear. One nuzzled my hair, slobbering across my face, and the tugging at my leg got stronger.
I think I knew I would have been dead. Staying perfectly still hadn't confused them or distracted them at all; it just made them take their time.
Without warning, people came around the corner. To my surprise, one of them was my best friend. She had lived!
They scared off the wolves, and an ambulance pulled up in silence. I was flipped over and helped to my feet...until I tried to stand on my own, and realized that the tugging at my foot had actually been a wolf removing my foot altogether. My right leg ended at the ankle in a mangled mess of blood and torn muscle.
I survived the wolves, which is all I can ask for. The stranger in the fish store wouldn't have wanted anything to do with a broken woman anyhow. At the end of the day, I still had my best friend, and that was more than enough for me.
I know that sounds odd, because it seems that quite a few of my dreams take place inside a fish store. But I can't control it; there we were.
When I say 'we' I'm referring to my best friend and I. We were in this fish store, separately; she was off somewhere else in the store and I was along the northern wall on the left-hand side of the store. I was browsing through the tanks when I came upon a baby beaver. It was caged much like a small turtle might be, in a terrarium with equal measure land and water. The poor little thing was no bigger than my fist, but was fully-formed and was, in fact, a miniature version of a fully-grown beaver.
There was a man beside me, also browsing, also happening upon this beaver, and a conversation started. I can't say what we talked about since I really don't know, but an announcement went over the loudspeaker during the chat, calling me to the back room, where my friend awaited me. This man was very polite, handsome, friendly, kind; I felt bad that I had to leave. I told him I'd be back, and he offered this: "I'll be right here waiting. Right at the beaver. If you come back before the store closes tonight, I'll know it's meant to be." Though he didn't kiss me then, I could tell he wanted to—that he felt the same internal struggle I experienced. In a very awkward manner, we said our goodbyes and I left.
The store, for whatever reason, was split down the center into two halves. The left-most half was a fish store with the rows being very much like any typical retail chain, whereas the right-most half seemed more a club or a popular hangout spot. I can't actually say what a club looks like, I've never been. But by the Hollywood definition, it fit the bill. I met up with my friend and we talked and talked...she was so beautiful and yet she could talk you into an early grave if given half the chance. Quite the chatterbox. Anyway, the conversation reached its peak and, though I have no idea what we decided on, I agreed and went outside to my car, where I proceeded to put on my jacket. Or perhaps take it off; I distinctly recall balling up my jacket and throwing it into the backseat, but it's unclear whether I did this on this particular trip to the car or during the next one, when we left. Oh well. I did something with my jacket.
I re-entered the store, and searched through the aisles, particularly the northern wall on the left-hand side, but my knight-in-shining-smiles was nowhere to be found. I kept a smile on my face, but when I told my friend he was missing, she saw the tears in my eyes.
We went about our business—whatever that means—until nearly closing time. As I was making my way to the door once again, an employee happened to mention that there was a man sleeping in one of the aisles, on one of the lower shelves, in fact. I inquired as to where and they told me...it was the northern wall! On the left-hand side! That must have been him, clearly, but they gave me his name, since apparently they did know who he was, so I assume he actually did this quite often...and I'm rambling. I did seem to know the name, and I had a face that went with that name in my head, so when the man walked up to me, he was not the same man I had fallen for earlier that day. He was someone else, someone I was not attracted to. I nodded politely and dismissed him, and he acted as if I too was not the girl he had fallen for earlier that day. We were two different people, and why? Because it had not been in the fairytale setting by the beaver cage? Or because life had gotten in the way? Or because our vision is jaded by the sweeping romance of a lustful relationship?
Either way, the man was now gone and the beaver remained unpurchased. I gossiped about the incident to my best friend when I went back to her location on the right-hand side of the store, until it was whispered that the man I had grown fond of and the man I had dismissed were not actually the same person; they were, somehow, the same entity, yet two separate beings. I had fallen for one-half of a man, and he was beautiful. I glanced across the store. As it were, we were against the northern wall, and the stars aligned just right for me to have a clear view all the way to the left-hand side of the store, to the beaver tank, and there he stood.
I got excited to see my prince again, and rushed to leave, ready to go home—a mere cover story to give me the chance to pass by the beaver tank one last time. I didn't want to get my hopes up that it really was him, but I didn't want to miss the chance to see him again, either.
There he stood, speaking softly through the glass, whispering to the tiny animal how (most likely) he was going to set it free one day. How he'd save it from captivity and from the eyes of the onlookers. I can only assume that's what he was saying, but he was just that sort of man, you know? Adorable.
My best friend tugged at my jacket—ah, there it is...I still had it on—and she called me away. I longed for the man but I knew it was futile. Even if we met again, what would I say? What would we do? We'd just end up drifting apart and the whirlwind romance would be gone. It was too great a memory to let it disintegrate, so I conceded to my friend and we left. In very much a fairytale fashion, I tossed one last glance his way while walking out the door, and he looked up. Our eyes met, the sadness in mine reflecting back at me in his, and I knew it was over. Would he search for me, like a prince searching for the damsel in distress? Was I a damsel in distress who needed finding? So many questions arose in that glance.
My friend and I went back to my car, which in itself was an oddity in the strangeness of the dream world. It was here that I balled up my jacket and tossed it into the backseat...not just a normal toss, mind you, but I threw it through the space where the front windshield should have been, past the front seats, and into the recess which appeared to be the backseat. Everything was slightly off-white and nothing looked comfortable. I think the car was a convertible, but by that I mostly mean to say there were no windows; there were spaces for windows and a windshield, but the glass wasn't there.
We climbed into the seats and began to drive. To where, I do not know.
***
The weather seemed to be deteriorating quickly; what started as a clear afternoon became a windy morning (yes, time works differently in dreams) and although it didn't physically snow, there was snow on the ground. The car slid a few times on the icy road, and when it hadn't slipped in a while we thought we were safe. We were wrong.
One final patch of ice got us, and the car slid off into the ditch. We were right behind the corner of a building—not a full building that I ever saw, just the soft, yellowed corner—and in what I assume was a result of the accident, I couldn't move. I was lying there across the front seat (and yet somehow also across the hood of the car, though I was lying quite flat and parallel to the ground) and my best friend was lying to my left, which was also behind me, from the way I was spread out, mostly on my stomach but propped on my left side.
Time went by; it felt quick but I knew it to be longer. My best friend didn't have the problem I had with moving, and she was able to stand and stretch her legs. She said she would go get help, and for a minute I thought it was a great idea...until we heard them.
Wolves. In the distance, I could see their shapes moving against the snow. They were hard to make out and even harder to track, but I knew they were getting closer. My friend, she said, "I'll go get help. Stay here." I tried to warn her, tried to plead with her to stay, but she didn't seem to hear me. She left, and they made their move. She had barely rounded the corner out of view when she screamed. I knew they had gotten her.
I lay there a bit longer, and the wolves circled 'round. Slowly, they made their way inward toward the car—toward me. I discovered that I had a blanket of sorts draped across my shoulders, and I noticed my hair in wild disarray, so I tucked my head down into the seat of the car, with one eye on the wolves, and excruciatingly slowly...with the slightest of movements...I pulled the blanket to the top of my neck and buried my face beneath my hair.
I knew that if I stayed perfectly still, they wouldn't see me. Hopefully, the scent of delicious human was covered by the smoke and gasoline of the car. They drew closer, and I squeezed my eyes shut, shuddering when I felt their breath against my forehead. A tugging at my leg terrified me, and every muscle in my body stiffened in fear. One nuzzled my hair, slobbering across my face, and the tugging at my leg got stronger.
I think I knew I would have been dead. Staying perfectly still hadn't confused them or distracted them at all; it just made them take their time.
Without warning, people came around the corner. To my surprise, one of them was my best friend. She had lived!
They scared off the wolves, and an ambulance pulled up in silence. I was flipped over and helped to my feet...until I tried to stand on my own, and realized that the tugging at my foot had actually been a wolf removing my foot altogether. My right leg ended at the ankle in a mangled mess of blood and torn muscle.
I survived the wolves, which is all I can ask for. The stranger in the fish store wouldn't have wanted anything to do with a broken woman anyhow. At the end of the day, I still had my best friend, and that was more than enough for me.
Monday, October 19, 2015
The Orphan Girl of the Moon
Leave it to me to pull out my tarot cards late at night and not think about the dreams they will bring! This one was sad, and full of revelation.
***
Though I can't remember where it began, I know where it ended. In my house. I was lying in bed, waking up for the morning. A little girl needed to get ready for school.
She was my little girl now. I had saved her from a video game--I believe she was an orphan. She was so calm and quiet. Was she always like that? Or did the game present some sort of trauma that she couldn't recover from? I didn't know. All I knew was that she was mine now. There was a good chance that social services would be by sometime, and they might take her away. But until they came, I vowed to take as good care of her as I do my own children. Step one was getting her ready for school.
She was about 6 or 7 years old, so she must have been getting ready for kindergarten or first grade. She wore a blue cotton dress, Tardis blue but a shade lighter from wear and use. It came to her knees, and it had a tank top with wide shoulder straps. I think there was some design on the front, but it wasn't clear.
I woke up to her standing at the side of my bed, reminding me about school. I got up and began getting things ready when I realized the dress she wore was the same one she had been rescued in. That just wouldn't do. My sister in law had given me a wardrobe of hand-me-down little girl clothes for my own daughter, so I began sifting through the piles and racks of clothes, looking for something to fit my new daughter.
I had even gone into the kitchen searching, where I had rows upon rows of hanging clothes, like a personal thrift shop. All the clothes were either too big, in a woman's size 2 to 4, or too small, for toddlers. A few small dresses stood out; I loved the one I found that was shiny like satin, spaghetti strap top, made from three or four large bands of fabric, starting in white at the top, then a band of light pink, darker pink, and blue. It looked like cotton candy. I don't recall if it fit her or not, I just remember the bus arriving and I hugged her before she left.
I then went to lay back down, and I laughed a bit when I recalled a conversation I had in which someone told me about the game and the child within, but they hadn't told me it would be such a sweet girl. I looked down at my phone to shut off the alarm that was ringing out, and I saw the last line of text messages I had sent with my friend, who had passed away. I realized that he had never mentioned she was a little girl either.
At the mention of my friend, I felt sadness and loss, because he had passed away before I had a chance to say goodbye. It was all very sudden. The last two messages I had sent to him actually were images of my character from the game. I can't remember the first one, but in the second one, my character was sitting in water, waist deep. Very clear water. An overlay of a full moon graced the image as well, lending its wisdom and mystery. It made me very sad that the last things I sent were from a game, and not real life. Games weren't as personal as real life.
***
I woke up after that, but the little girl still gets to me. She was so quiet and so mature for her age. Her long brown hair was straight as a board and ran past her shoulders to her waist. Her skin was pretty tan, but that might have been natural and not sunkissed. She never moved fast, just followed me around slowly, watching me peacefully. It was like she had accepted fate, and if I could reward her in some way, that would be great; but if I couldn't, she wouldn't mind. She was very much reminiscent of the moon. When I think of her, even without realizing it at first, I think of the moon. I hope she's alright, wherever she is now.
***
Though I can't remember where it began, I know where it ended. In my house. I was lying in bed, waking up for the morning. A little girl needed to get ready for school.
She was my little girl now. I had saved her from a video game--I believe she was an orphan. She was so calm and quiet. Was she always like that? Or did the game present some sort of trauma that she couldn't recover from? I didn't know. All I knew was that she was mine now. There was a good chance that social services would be by sometime, and they might take her away. But until they came, I vowed to take as good care of her as I do my own children. Step one was getting her ready for school.
She was about 6 or 7 years old, so she must have been getting ready for kindergarten or first grade. She wore a blue cotton dress, Tardis blue but a shade lighter from wear and use. It came to her knees, and it had a tank top with wide shoulder straps. I think there was some design on the front, but it wasn't clear.
I woke up to her standing at the side of my bed, reminding me about school. I got up and began getting things ready when I realized the dress she wore was the same one she had been rescued in. That just wouldn't do. My sister in law had given me a wardrobe of hand-me-down little girl clothes for my own daughter, so I began sifting through the piles and racks of clothes, looking for something to fit my new daughter.
I had even gone into the kitchen searching, where I had rows upon rows of hanging clothes, like a personal thrift shop. All the clothes were either too big, in a woman's size 2 to 4, or too small, for toddlers. A few small dresses stood out; I loved the one I found that was shiny like satin, spaghetti strap top, made from three or four large bands of fabric, starting in white at the top, then a band of light pink, darker pink, and blue. It looked like cotton candy. I don't recall if it fit her or not, I just remember the bus arriving and I hugged her before she left.
I then went to lay back down, and I laughed a bit when I recalled a conversation I had in which someone told me about the game and the child within, but they hadn't told me it would be such a sweet girl. I looked down at my phone to shut off the alarm that was ringing out, and I saw the last line of text messages I had sent with my friend, who had passed away. I realized that he had never mentioned she was a little girl either.
At the mention of my friend, I felt sadness and loss, because he had passed away before I had a chance to say goodbye. It was all very sudden. The last two messages I had sent to him actually were images of my character from the game. I can't remember the first one, but in the second one, my character was sitting in water, waist deep. Very clear water. An overlay of a full moon graced the image as well, lending its wisdom and mystery. It made me very sad that the last things I sent were from a game, and not real life. Games weren't as personal as real life.
***
I woke up after that, but the little girl still gets to me. She was so quiet and so mature for her age. Her long brown hair was straight as a board and ran past her shoulders to her waist. Her skin was pretty tan, but that might have been natural and not sunkissed. She never moved fast, just followed me around slowly, watching me peacefully. It was like she had accepted fate, and if I could reward her in some way, that would be great; but if I couldn't, she wouldn't mind. She was very much reminiscent of the moon. When I think of her, even without realizing it at first, I think of the moon. I hope she's alright, wherever she is now.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Deer, Elk, Moose
My friend Megan and I were at my house and getting ready to go somewhere. I think it was around 2:30 pm and we were going to pick up my kids from school. It was taking me a few minutes to get ready, and so Megan went out to the Sequoia to wait for me. She was standing by her door on the passenger side and I was walking through the living room towards the front door.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. So I look out the window and see a large deer standing by a deer feeder in the pasture. My first thought was how majestic it was. But then a second one lifts it's head and suddenly they seem to be half the distance. There is something odd about this one though... it has one large antler and one small one. At first glance I thought the second antler was a broken stub, until the sun hit it just right and I saw the tines. The deer, seemingly so close now, began to take notice of each other; they rattled their antlers together, sparingly at first, then with passion and competitiveness. I was a bit alarmed, but I knew it was only me and megan at the house. So I shook my head and walked out the front door.
I was a little cautious knowing they weren't too far away, but knew I'd be safe if only I could reach my sequoia. But once I got into the front yard, my fears grew stronger. The deer were suddenly on the other side of the fence, just 20 feet away, and they seemed to have grown in size. They were now the size of elk. They even looked like they had become elk themselves. I calmly told Megan to get in the Sequoia and she'd be safe. By now we were both watching the elk like rabbits watching a bobcat. I took a step toward the Sequoia but Megan, disregarding my advice, stepped around the front end of the truck and stopped in her tracks when the dueling elk turned their attention to her. I told her again to get in the Sequoia and at first I thought she would, but she hesitated.
The elk took two steps toward her and stopped. A third elk step up from behind the others. This one was double the size of the other two. As a matter of fact, it was a moose. An angry moose. I started to move toward the truck when a very large, loud schoolbus suddenly appeared in the pasture. It was empty. The moose were distracted long enough for Megan and I to get back in the house.
We looked at the clock to see the time (2:50pm) and then looked out the window in time to see the moose was closer and larger. I thought for a moment that i should call the school to let them know I'd be late getting the kids. I grabbed my Keychain truck lock and we both sat at the window watching the fighting animals. In a last effort to get into the vehicle, I tried to hit the panic button to sound the truck alarm, but instead my hood opened up. I hit the button again to close it then pressed the correct button... but the alarm woke me up.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. So I look out the window and see a large deer standing by a deer feeder in the pasture. My first thought was how majestic it was. But then a second one lifts it's head and suddenly they seem to be half the distance. There is something odd about this one though... it has one large antler and one small one. At first glance I thought the second antler was a broken stub, until the sun hit it just right and I saw the tines. The deer, seemingly so close now, began to take notice of each other; they rattled their antlers together, sparingly at first, then with passion and competitiveness. I was a bit alarmed, but I knew it was only me and megan at the house. So I shook my head and walked out the front door.
I was a little cautious knowing they weren't too far away, but knew I'd be safe if only I could reach my sequoia. But once I got into the front yard, my fears grew stronger. The deer were suddenly on the other side of the fence, just 20 feet away, and they seemed to have grown in size. They were now the size of elk. They even looked like they had become elk themselves. I calmly told Megan to get in the Sequoia and she'd be safe. By now we were both watching the elk like rabbits watching a bobcat. I took a step toward the Sequoia but Megan, disregarding my advice, stepped around the front end of the truck and stopped in her tracks when the dueling elk turned their attention to her. I told her again to get in the Sequoia and at first I thought she would, but she hesitated.
The elk took two steps toward her and stopped. A third elk step up from behind the others. This one was double the size of the other two. As a matter of fact, it was a moose. An angry moose. I started to move toward the truck when a very large, loud schoolbus suddenly appeared in the pasture. It was empty. The moose were distracted long enough for Megan and I to get back in the house.
We looked at the clock to see the time (2:50pm) and then looked out the window in time to see the moose was closer and larger. I thought for a moment that i should call the school to let them know I'd be late getting the kids. I grabbed my Keychain truck lock and we both sat at the window watching the fighting animals. In a last effort to get into the vehicle, I tried to hit the panic button to sound the truck alarm, but instead my hood opened up. I hit the button again to close it then pressed the correct button... but the alarm woke me up.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Canasta with Sheldon
I know, it's been a long time since I've recorded my dreams. It's been a long time since I've had the time to do so. Here's a quick description of a dream I had, that I posted to facebook. Wish I would have typed it up here too!
I just had a dream that I was playing canasta with Sheldon while Penny and Leonard sang Madonna behind us to an invisible crowd.
Oh, and we were each playing with a ball of yarn--mine was brown and Sheldon's was green--and I think they represented our lives, because as we moved we pulled at the yarn. Sometimes it came out easy and sometimes it got tangled.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Snake-Charmed Lawyer
I typed this up immediately after waking up the next morning, but made a billion typos and never published it. I don't know if I finished typing it all up or not, but I went through and fixed the typos (and made it into full sentences as best I could) so here's what it ended up as. It was three full dreams.
I was at Mcdonald's with my friend and her parents. I had left my wallet at home, and people kept cutting in front of me. They served fried chicken.
In the dream I worked at a law firm, and I was the third Charmed One along with Piper and Phoebe.
I was put on an assignment to travel from somewhere to school, and I drove a cart. There were some people with me, though I don't remember who they were; we drove through the streets and I thought I could find the way from where we were but I got lost in the neighborhood. Everything started going crazy—all sorts of animals began attacking everyone, including dogs, sheep, cows, tigers, cats, etc. We had to drive around with the cart dodging animals till we could find the school.
Finally, we found the school (law firm) and went inside. There was a tall guy with short black shaved hair, pale skin, and wide eyes with deep sockets...he looked so familiar, like I knew him from somewhere in life, and I'm pretty sure I really did know this guy somewhere. I bumped into him in the hall. He was mean and tried to fight and argue, but I just kept going. Went down the hall to where Piper was...sort of like a hospital room, but she could walk around, though I'm not sure what she was in for. Gave her a drink and went to the other side of the firm to find Phoebe. Tall guy tried to pick a fight again and threatened to kill me.
In the last room on that floor, I found Phoebe with our mentor. He was very cute, slightly older, shortish light brown hair, and looked wise. While he was sitting at his computer, I told him the story of what had happened that day, of the tall man and his attitude, and he said he'd help. He was working on a story for Phoebe, looking into the activities of her ex. I glanced down the hall through the crack where the door was still open and saw the tall man looking around all shifty-like, then he leaned forward as another man leans out of a doorway and kisses him. I started laughing, because I could use that against him around the office to make him leave me alone, since he didn't seem to want anyone to know.
I decided to go take some things down to my truck (as a way to leave Phoebe and our mentor for a few minutes so they wouldn't know why I was laughing). As I walked down the stairs at the front of the building, the tall man was walking up; he walked close to me and tried to trip me. I saw it coming though and managed to sidestep, but my balance was shaky. I reached out to center myself and grabbed the back of the tall man's jacket. He continued to try shoving me down the stairs, no longer acting like an accident, but I held my balance and he ended up tumbling backward down the center, head first, colliding with the cement landing below. I walked past, glad it wasn't me but a little worried hoping I didn't kill him. He got up with a very pissed-off look on his face (pissed off but oddly emotionless) and walked inside the building.
I went to my truck and dropped some stuff off, but as I went toward building again, Phoebe shouts at me out the window. Apparently she found a picture of her hubby with another woman, from the last time we visited Utah...? Confused, I began heading back inside the building, and I went up with Phoebe and our mentor. At this time, her problem was mostly solved for now, so our mentor continued to work on my issue after I told him about the attempted murder right out front. What a great mentor!
Ready to leave for the day, groups of people were heading out front. Piper and Phoebe were going to meet me at my truck to go home. We walked with a large group. I'm almost by my truck when I see the tall man walk out a few people ahead of me...and of course right then, the crowd slows to a stop from heavy traffic. I'm not sure if the tall man sees me or not.
He looks very angry all of a sudden, very dark, then without warning pulls out his pen and stabs the person in front of him in the back of the neck. He turns to the next person beside him and stabs them as well.
I don't know why I didn't get in my truck. Instead I go to run past some people to my right, but he sees me and pushes me down. I fall against the building and turn over and he is right on top of me with the pen gripped tightly in his white knuckles, his arm tense, holding it just inches from my face. I can see the blood dripping from the end of the pen when I see that he didn't even click it; the pen is still retracted and hes been stabbing people with a blunt hole at the end of the pen. He looks extremely scary as he goes to stab my neck. I catch his arm but I can still feel the pain of the pressure against my throat. I tell him desperately that I know his secret, though I'm not sure why I thought that would help, because he gets completely enraged and tries to stab me again. I tell him if he stabs me, I'll tell everyone his secret.
Not sure how I got out of that one; someone must have saved me. But I lived somehow.
In the next dream, I wasn't actually there. Instead I was watching Captain Jack, sailing the high seas. He comes across a ship being attacked by other pirates and decides to check it out. One of the pirates was a woman that he knew.
He went to grab a headband piece he saw, but the woman pirate took it first and told him no, he couldn't have it. He asked why, and she said simply because she liked it, but he knew it had some sort of magical property and was important.
They went back to her ship, where she seemed to think she had Jack as a prisoner, though he was free to walk about. She was doing a load of laundry on board and Jack said she should wash her new headband. He started going down the list of things she was washing or should wash, naming her pants, shirt, bra, vest, and finally headpiece and tossed it into the washer.
He started doing that thing that Captain Jack does best, wandering the room talking somewhat aimlessly, eventually coming full circle to stab the ceiling and swing around on the blade over the washer, grabbing the headpiece from inside as he went. At some point there was a strange scene of him washing part of his own pants or something; they were thick and white but had a big dirt stain on the back. He put a cleaner on it and rubbed it in, but it ate through the clothing and he started pulling fibers off of it, even though it did take out the dirt, too.
At another point, we're driving to go to a nice vacation spot. I don't remember who was driving, but there were two cars. I think my kids were in the car, too. I wasn't strapped in at first but then we started going around narrow cliff sides and across flimsy wooden bridges, and as beautiful as it all looked out there, we were very high up in the mountains and I didn't want to die if the truck slipped, so I strapped myself in and tried to ignore how close to the edge the tires were coming.
We eventually made it to a beautiful hotel type place, with sparkling pools of crystal clear blue water, and gorgeous water plants, with lots of vegetation around the edges. Each pool had a door leading inside the lavish hotel. There were even gift shops and stuff.
An old friend of mine was there (we're not friends anymore), and I was showing her some of the magical gifts they had, like rock sets and a small crystal egg thing with a voice recording that sounded like our magic school teacher doing a guided meditation.
We even saw a live snake with black-and-red stripes—there may have been other colors too but I remember black and red. He was just swimming along the top of the water of the pool we were at, away from us near the wall of the pool (all the pools were held in naturally by natural rock formations).
There was a couple beside us with a little boy—he was a baby but he was very big for his age—and the dad was holding him but asked me to put my hand on the kid's head. I did so and then the dad took his free hand to brush the boy's hair. Apparently the kid wouldn't let anyone but a stranger touch his hair, which is why he needed me to distract him so the kid would think I was brushing his hair even though it was really the dad doing it.
We go inside and the president is there. Not sure what he was the president of. He was worried because the snake had come inside the hotel into the room we were in. The room was dark and filled with rich, carved trim and soft furniture and expensive showpieces and art. There were many many doors around the room, and they were all dark, but one was painted red. He said it was red to mark that it was the door the snake came in at, and it was propped open slightly to try to lead the snake back out, but he wouldn't go.
I grabbed two nearby pool sticks and put one under the head of the snake and one under the body to try to carry him. Although I got to the door, it wasn't open enough, so I had to manage. Eventually I got him outside without being bitten.
But then he was in one of the pretty pools, and I was worried he'd bite someone anyway. I watched as he went in another door, which led to a library. The library was empty and very dark; it had windows with long slender blinds over them and they were open just enough to see through the slits to a dark and rainy moonlit night. Which is crazy, because it was just bright daylight out not long earlier.
I managed to use the pool sticks on the snake again, though he didn't like it. It was more of a struggle and I had to start using them like chopsticks, holding the snakes head still. I managed to get him out a window, but it was like I could talk to it now, and I heard it exclaim how excited he was when he found his way into someone's house right next door. He was in their kitchen and I was trying to tell him he shouldn/t be there, but what could I do? He was happy.
***
I was at Mcdonald's with my friend and her parents. I had left my wallet at home, and people kept cutting in front of me. They served fried chicken.
In the dream I worked at a law firm, and I was the third Charmed One along with Piper and Phoebe.
I was put on an assignment to travel from somewhere to school, and I drove a cart. There were some people with me, though I don't remember who they were; we drove through the streets and I thought I could find the way from where we were but I got lost in the neighborhood. Everything started going crazy—all sorts of animals began attacking everyone, including dogs, sheep, cows, tigers, cats, etc. We had to drive around with the cart dodging animals till we could find the school.
Finally, we found the school (law firm) and went inside. There was a tall guy with short black shaved hair, pale skin, and wide eyes with deep sockets...he looked so familiar, like I knew him from somewhere in life, and I'm pretty sure I really did know this guy somewhere. I bumped into him in the hall. He was mean and tried to fight and argue, but I just kept going. Went down the hall to where Piper was...sort of like a hospital room, but she could walk around, though I'm not sure what she was in for. Gave her a drink and went to the other side of the firm to find Phoebe. Tall guy tried to pick a fight again and threatened to kill me.
In the last room on that floor, I found Phoebe with our mentor. He was very cute, slightly older, shortish light brown hair, and looked wise. While he was sitting at his computer, I told him the story of what had happened that day, of the tall man and his attitude, and he said he'd help. He was working on a story for Phoebe, looking into the activities of her ex. I glanced down the hall through the crack where the door was still open and saw the tall man looking around all shifty-like, then he leaned forward as another man leans out of a doorway and kisses him. I started laughing, because I could use that against him around the office to make him leave me alone, since he didn't seem to want anyone to know.
I decided to go take some things down to my truck (as a way to leave Phoebe and our mentor for a few minutes so they wouldn't know why I was laughing). As I walked down the stairs at the front of the building, the tall man was walking up; he walked close to me and tried to trip me. I saw it coming though and managed to sidestep, but my balance was shaky. I reached out to center myself and grabbed the back of the tall man's jacket. He continued to try shoving me down the stairs, no longer acting like an accident, but I held my balance and he ended up tumbling backward down the center, head first, colliding with the cement landing below. I walked past, glad it wasn't me but a little worried hoping I didn't kill him. He got up with a very pissed-off look on his face (pissed off but oddly emotionless) and walked inside the building.
I went to my truck and dropped some stuff off, but as I went toward building again, Phoebe shouts at me out the window. Apparently she found a picture of her hubby with another woman, from the last time we visited Utah...? Confused, I began heading back inside the building, and I went up with Phoebe and our mentor. At this time, her problem was mostly solved for now, so our mentor continued to work on my issue after I told him about the attempted murder right out front. What a great mentor!
Ready to leave for the day, groups of people were heading out front. Piper and Phoebe were going to meet me at my truck to go home. We walked with a large group. I'm almost by my truck when I see the tall man walk out a few people ahead of me...and of course right then, the crowd slows to a stop from heavy traffic. I'm not sure if the tall man sees me or not.
He looks very angry all of a sudden, very dark, then without warning pulls out his pen and stabs the person in front of him in the back of the neck. He turns to the next person beside him and stabs them as well.
I don't know why I didn't get in my truck. Instead I go to run past some people to my right, but he sees me and pushes me down. I fall against the building and turn over and he is right on top of me with the pen gripped tightly in his white knuckles, his arm tense, holding it just inches from my face. I can see the blood dripping from the end of the pen when I see that he didn't even click it; the pen is still retracted and hes been stabbing people with a blunt hole at the end of the pen. He looks extremely scary as he goes to stab my neck. I catch his arm but I can still feel the pain of the pressure against my throat. I tell him desperately that I know his secret, though I'm not sure why I thought that would help, because he gets completely enraged and tries to stab me again. I tell him if he stabs me, I'll tell everyone his secret.
Not sure how I got out of that one; someone must have saved me. But I lived somehow.
***
In the next dream, I wasn't actually there. Instead I was watching Captain Jack, sailing the high seas. He comes across a ship being attacked by other pirates and decides to check it out. One of the pirates was a woman that he knew.
He went to grab a headband piece he saw, but the woman pirate took it first and told him no, he couldn't have it. He asked why, and she said simply because she liked it, but he knew it had some sort of magical property and was important.
They went back to her ship, where she seemed to think she had Jack as a prisoner, though he was free to walk about. She was doing a load of laundry on board and Jack said she should wash her new headband. He started going down the list of things she was washing or should wash, naming her pants, shirt, bra, vest, and finally headpiece and tossed it into the washer.
He started doing that thing that Captain Jack does best, wandering the room talking somewhat aimlessly, eventually coming full circle to stab the ceiling and swing around on the blade over the washer, grabbing the headpiece from inside as he went. At some point there was a strange scene of him washing part of his own pants or something; they were thick and white but had a big dirt stain on the back. He put a cleaner on it and rubbed it in, but it ate through the clothing and he started pulling fibers off of it, even though it did take out the dirt, too.
***
At another point, we're driving to go to a nice vacation spot. I don't remember who was driving, but there were two cars. I think my kids were in the car, too. I wasn't strapped in at first but then we started going around narrow cliff sides and across flimsy wooden bridges, and as beautiful as it all looked out there, we were very high up in the mountains and I didn't want to die if the truck slipped, so I strapped myself in and tried to ignore how close to the edge the tires were coming.
We eventually made it to a beautiful hotel type place, with sparkling pools of crystal clear blue water, and gorgeous water plants, with lots of vegetation around the edges. Each pool had a door leading inside the lavish hotel. There were even gift shops and stuff.
An old friend of mine was there (we're not friends anymore), and I was showing her some of the magical gifts they had, like rock sets and a small crystal egg thing with a voice recording that sounded like our magic school teacher doing a guided meditation.
We even saw a live snake with black-and-red stripes—there may have been other colors too but I remember black and red. He was just swimming along the top of the water of the pool we were at, away from us near the wall of the pool (all the pools were held in naturally by natural rock formations).
There was a couple beside us with a little boy—he was a baby but he was very big for his age—and the dad was holding him but asked me to put my hand on the kid's head. I did so and then the dad took his free hand to brush the boy's hair. Apparently the kid wouldn't let anyone but a stranger touch his hair, which is why he needed me to distract him so the kid would think I was brushing his hair even though it was really the dad doing it.
We go inside and the president is there. Not sure what he was the president of. He was worried because the snake had come inside the hotel into the room we were in. The room was dark and filled with rich, carved trim and soft furniture and expensive showpieces and art. There were many many doors around the room, and they were all dark, but one was painted red. He said it was red to mark that it was the door the snake came in at, and it was propped open slightly to try to lead the snake back out, but he wouldn't go.
I grabbed two nearby pool sticks and put one under the head of the snake and one under the body to try to carry him. Although I got to the door, it wasn't open enough, so I had to manage. Eventually I got him outside without being bitten.
But then he was in one of the pretty pools, and I was worried he'd bite someone anyway. I watched as he went in another door, which led to a library. The library was empty and very dark; it had windows with long slender blinds over them and they were open just enough to see through the slits to a dark and rainy moonlit night. Which is crazy, because it was just bright daylight out not long earlier.
I managed to use the pool sticks on the snake again, though he didn't like it. It was more of a struggle and I had to start using them like chopsticks, holding the snakes head still. I managed to get him out a window, but it was like I could talk to it now, and I heard it exclaim how excited he was when he found his way into someone's house right next door. He was in their kitchen and I was trying to tell him he shouldn/t be there, but what could I do? He was happy.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Attack of the Mayhem Man
This dream was insane. And vivid. You know the guy from the car insurance commericals, who acts like various disasters that could ruin your vehicle, calls himself "Mayhem"? He was in my dream, also causing Mayhem. And destroying life as I knew it.
I was at home with my boys. Standing on the front porch looking down the driveway, I see a car by the mailbox that is just sitting there. I start to go down the driveway to check it out. As I pass by the lake, I see some people fishing (I guess we knew they were there, because I didn't question it) and our lawyer was there too. When I finally reach the mailbox, the car has changed from white to green, and there is a man next to our gate with his back to me. He hears me coming and turns around... and it's the Mayhem man!
He says his name is Duke, and that he's looking for somewhere to hold an animal adoption drive of some sort. Despite my attempts to decline his offer to hold it at my house, he pushes past me and finds a sign up just inside my gate. I don't know if he put the sign there, or simply began altering one that he put up, but before I knew it there was a sign talking about puppies and cute lonely kittens. I didn't realize at the time that it was a cleverly designed trap.
While I was following Duke and trying to stop him from putting up his sign, I was being distracted by two french women. They were fashion models or designers, and they definitely looked the part. They had on tight dark jeans, shirts that only had one sleeve and hung at angles around their waists, their hair was cut short and layered, and their eye makeup was smoky and seductive. Unfortunately, they were very mean. I was simply wearing dark jeans, cowgirl boots, and a 3/4 wide-sleeve brown sweater I wear often. Apparently they were judging my sense of style, and I was failing. They were walking around me in circles with distasteful looks on their faces, talking between each other as if I wasn't even there. They did eventually go away, but only because it seemed like the adoption drive was all set up and ready for guests.
People started arriving. No one went past the lake though, luckily, so even though it was held on our property the guests stayed away from the house. There were lots of people, and they all looked rich--some of them even looked familiar, as if I had seen them on TV or something. Duke stepped forward out of the crowd... and Mayhem ensued.
Everyone started dying. It was like they were all being tortured, and that they were slowly dying in ways similar to whatever movies or shows they had acted in. They all died in ways they knew, in ways they had pretended to die. It was bloody, gory, and downright terrifying... and all during a beautiful, bright, cloudless, perfect summer day. Duke was dancing among them, laughing and touching their shoulders and heads, where worse maladies spread from his fingertips like wildfire. The worst part was that their screams were muffled, and what I heard clearly were their pleas. The words they spoke rather than moaned. The cries for help that they vocalized rather than squealed.
I was safe, though. No injury or illness took me. But I did have a woman fall over me, and I knew I had to try to help her. She looked vaguely similar to Angelina Jolie, but much younger. Her skin was turning inky black, and as it did so it was killing her. It would begin at her hands, and as it went down her arms her hands would shrink and take shape of simply black balls on the ends of black wrists, till all that was left was black stubs as it traveled towards her shoulders. The irony lay in the fact that from a distance, she appeared to be wearing sparkly black arm-length gloves, and the twisting and turning she was doing in agony seemed like an exotic dance. Anyone who drove by would simply think we were having an excentric party for the rich and famous. The deaths and torture were beautifully mortifying.
I reached up the woman's arms and found that where the black began was a separate layer from her skin. It was like skintight latex; llike a layer of plastic wrap that had been spraypainted on for a perfect fit. I grabbed the ends and pulled it down her arms, and although it felt wrong and nasty, like I was peeling off a layer of her skin, it instead came off her wrist stubbs and appeared to elongate her arms back to their normal size. I began moving frantically, removing layer after layer of black inky skin, and as I did so her arms were growing back underneath. I was still having to fight the black, because it was trying hard to take over as I was peeling it back. It leapt from her arms and lashed around her waist. I pulled the last bit from her hands then started working on her back, tearing off layers that were climbing between her shoulder blades. I think it hurt her as I did all this, but she knew it was to save her life.
We did eventually get it all off of her, and I shoved her toward the gate to leave. I knew that if she just got out of the gate, she would be safe. She didn't want to leave me after I had saved her, but I knew I had to stay--my kids were here, after all, and I couldnt leave Duke alone on the property. She left, and I knew I had saved her. But when I turned to face the rest of the dying guests, it was too late. Not only was the yard covered with dead bodies and body parts, but the sun was shining in an almost sickening way, so bright and cheerful that it seemed to be taking away some of the horror and sadness of what had happened. It wasn't right, to just cover the emotions that should be felt for such loss. With a wave of his hand, Duke made everyone else disappear, and he smiled.
Now we were standing face to face, about 20 feet apart. He stood on the driveway, just beside the spillway where the lake overflows. I was slightly farther up the driveway, so technically he was standing in my way of reaching the house, even though we were still at least 1/8 of a mile from the house. He was off to the side though, so if I decided to make a run for it, I had a pretty good chance, depending on how fast he was. My kids were standing beside me now, still young (still four and two years old). I told Duke that he shouldn't be here, and that it was time for me and my boys to go home. I had a feeling that he would try to stop us, so I sent my kids to the house on four wheelers. Each kid was suddenly on a four wheeler, heading in opposite directions. They were to take zigzaging paths to the house, and when they got there, they were to go inside and hide away from windows and doors. Duke and I stared at each other for a few moments, then I took off toward the house at a full sprint. Part of what kept me moving was the fact that Duke wasn't phased at all by the idea of us running from him. He didn't even seem like he was going to chase us... he was too calm.
As I reached the house I saw one of the four wheelers outside and I knew David had made it back safely. Night had fallen rather quickly, and the sky was already black. When I openned the front door, a mouse ran from the other side of the house all the way to the door and outside. I stood just inside, with David comfortably and obliviously playing a game in the living room. I watched out the door as Duke slowly walked closer and closer up the driveway. He stood in the yard, just on the edge of the darkness, and watched me in return.
I heard the other four wheeler come up to the house, and I stepped outside to bring my son in safely. Levi walked up the ramp into the house, and Duke just stood there watching us. He made no attempt to follow us or come closer. I backed up slowly until I was in the door again, made sure my kids were safe, then shut and locked the door securely. The kids played games in the living room while I paced the house, ensuring the doors and windows were all locked and that Duke had no way to enter. When I paced back to the front door I jumped back when I saw he had moved up onto the porch and was examining the door, searching for a way inside. He was laughing slightly, like he thought it was funny that we could keep him out.
I grabbed my phone and called my husband, who was working late. I told him about how Duke was on the porch trying to get inside, and how scared I was for me and the kids. Duke found an old gun on the porch, one that shouldn't have been able to work, but he managed to make it fire anyways. He didn't hit anyone, but I was even more afraid than before. All I kept seeing in my head was my boys in danger. I was still on the phone with my hubby, but it would take too long for him to get home.
I woke up shortly afterwards, but not before the image of Duke on the front porch, staring at me with a gun in his hands, was burned into my mind.
I was at home with my boys. Standing on the front porch looking down the driveway, I see a car by the mailbox that is just sitting there. I start to go down the driveway to check it out. As I pass by the lake, I see some people fishing (I guess we knew they were there, because I didn't question it) and our lawyer was there too. When I finally reach the mailbox, the car has changed from white to green, and there is a man next to our gate with his back to me. He hears me coming and turns around... and it's the Mayhem man!
He says his name is Duke, and that he's looking for somewhere to hold an animal adoption drive of some sort. Despite my attempts to decline his offer to hold it at my house, he pushes past me and finds a sign up just inside my gate. I don't know if he put the sign there, or simply began altering one that he put up, but before I knew it there was a sign talking about puppies and cute lonely kittens. I didn't realize at the time that it was a cleverly designed trap.
While I was following Duke and trying to stop him from putting up his sign, I was being distracted by two french women. They were fashion models or designers, and they definitely looked the part. They had on tight dark jeans, shirts that only had one sleeve and hung at angles around their waists, their hair was cut short and layered, and their eye makeup was smoky and seductive. Unfortunately, they were very mean. I was simply wearing dark jeans, cowgirl boots, and a 3/4 wide-sleeve brown sweater I wear often. Apparently they were judging my sense of style, and I was failing. They were walking around me in circles with distasteful looks on their faces, talking between each other as if I wasn't even there. They did eventually go away, but only because it seemed like the adoption drive was all set up and ready for guests.
People started arriving. No one went past the lake though, luckily, so even though it was held on our property the guests stayed away from the house. There were lots of people, and they all looked rich--some of them even looked familiar, as if I had seen them on TV or something. Duke stepped forward out of the crowd... and Mayhem ensued.
Everyone started dying. It was like they were all being tortured, and that they were slowly dying in ways similar to whatever movies or shows they had acted in. They all died in ways they knew, in ways they had pretended to die. It was bloody, gory, and downright terrifying... and all during a beautiful, bright, cloudless, perfect summer day. Duke was dancing among them, laughing and touching their shoulders and heads, where worse maladies spread from his fingertips like wildfire. The worst part was that their screams were muffled, and what I heard clearly were their pleas. The words they spoke rather than moaned. The cries for help that they vocalized rather than squealed.
I was safe, though. No injury or illness took me. But I did have a woman fall over me, and I knew I had to try to help her. She looked vaguely similar to Angelina Jolie, but much younger. Her skin was turning inky black, and as it did so it was killing her. It would begin at her hands, and as it went down her arms her hands would shrink and take shape of simply black balls on the ends of black wrists, till all that was left was black stubs as it traveled towards her shoulders. The irony lay in the fact that from a distance, she appeared to be wearing sparkly black arm-length gloves, and the twisting and turning she was doing in agony seemed like an exotic dance. Anyone who drove by would simply think we were having an excentric party for the rich and famous. The deaths and torture were beautifully mortifying.
I reached up the woman's arms and found that where the black began was a separate layer from her skin. It was like skintight latex; llike a layer of plastic wrap that had been spraypainted on for a perfect fit. I grabbed the ends and pulled it down her arms, and although it felt wrong and nasty, like I was peeling off a layer of her skin, it instead came off her wrist stubbs and appeared to elongate her arms back to their normal size. I began moving frantically, removing layer after layer of black inky skin, and as I did so her arms were growing back underneath. I was still having to fight the black, because it was trying hard to take over as I was peeling it back. It leapt from her arms and lashed around her waist. I pulled the last bit from her hands then started working on her back, tearing off layers that were climbing between her shoulder blades. I think it hurt her as I did all this, but she knew it was to save her life.
We did eventually get it all off of her, and I shoved her toward the gate to leave. I knew that if she just got out of the gate, she would be safe. She didn't want to leave me after I had saved her, but I knew I had to stay--my kids were here, after all, and I couldnt leave Duke alone on the property. She left, and I knew I had saved her. But when I turned to face the rest of the dying guests, it was too late. Not only was the yard covered with dead bodies and body parts, but the sun was shining in an almost sickening way, so bright and cheerful that it seemed to be taking away some of the horror and sadness of what had happened. It wasn't right, to just cover the emotions that should be felt for such loss. With a wave of his hand, Duke made everyone else disappear, and he smiled.
Now we were standing face to face, about 20 feet apart. He stood on the driveway, just beside the spillway where the lake overflows. I was slightly farther up the driveway, so technically he was standing in my way of reaching the house, even though we were still at least 1/8 of a mile from the house. He was off to the side though, so if I decided to make a run for it, I had a pretty good chance, depending on how fast he was. My kids were standing beside me now, still young (still four and two years old). I told Duke that he shouldn't be here, and that it was time for me and my boys to go home. I had a feeling that he would try to stop us, so I sent my kids to the house on four wheelers. Each kid was suddenly on a four wheeler, heading in opposite directions. They were to take zigzaging paths to the house, and when they got there, they were to go inside and hide away from windows and doors. Duke and I stared at each other for a few moments, then I took off toward the house at a full sprint. Part of what kept me moving was the fact that Duke wasn't phased at all by the idea of us running from him. He didn't even seem like he was going to chase us... he was too calm.
As I reached the house I saw one of the four wheelers outside and I knew David had made it back safely. Night had fallen rather quickly, and the sky was already black. When I openned the front door, a mouse ran from the other side of the house all the way to the door and outside. I stood just inside, with David comfortably and obliviously playing a game in the living room. I watched out the door as Duke slowly walked closer and closer up the driveway. He stood in the yard, just on the edge of the darkness, and watched me in return.
I heard the other four wheeler come up to the house, and I stepped outside to bring my son in safely. Levi walked up the ramp into the house, and Duke just stood there watching us. He made no attempt to follow us or come closer. I backed up slowly until I was in the door again, made sure my kids were safe, then shut and locked the door securely. The kids played games in the living room while I paced the house, ensuring the doors and windows were all locked and that Duke had no way to enter. When I paced back to the front door I jumped back when I saw he had moved up onto the porch and was examining the door, searching for a way inside. He was laughing slightly, like he thought it was funny that we could keep him out.
I grabbed my phone and called my husband, who was working late. I told him about how Duke was on the porch trying to get inside, and how scared I was for me and the kids. Duke found an old gun on the porch, one that shouldn't have been able to work, but he managed to make it fire anyways. He didn't hit anyone, but I was even more afraid than before. All I kept seeing in my head was my boys in danger. I was still on the phone with my hubby, but it would take too long for him to get home.
I woke up shortly afterwards, but not before the image of Duke on the front porch, staring at me with a gun in his hands, was burned into my mind.
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