Teleportation Sensations

I was a young girl of about ten years old. I was tall and skinny with dark hair. I kept to myself at school, preferring my own company to the company of others. I did have a bully though, this big, burly kid that wasn’t above hitting girls.

The scene of this dream started off outside, probably at recess. The thug and a couple of his friends were chasing me around the school. I stopped running at some point and was out of breath. Several yards away, the boys stopped running and slowly approached me. I suddenly felt a burst of rage from within me as I watched them close the gap. I wanted nothing more than to punch the guy in the face. I clenched my fist and blinked.

I was suddenly right in front of him. Without thinking, I gave him a good left-hook to the face. Blood spurted out of his nose. They all stared up at me in fear. I clenched my fists again and they ran off.

“How did you do that?!”

I turned to see another boy. He was short and a bit chubby with orangey-red hair and freckles. He looked up at me with awe.

“With my fist?” I answered, unsure as to why he was so amazed.

“No, not that!” he gasped. “ You were over there…then you were in his face. Without moving!” He pointed to two different points which were a good ten feet apart. “How did you do it?”

“I don’t…know…”

The scene changes and it was weeks or months later. I was alone.The playground of the school was empty and I was practicing my newly-found ability. I stood my the slide and stared at the light post on the other side of the yard. I willed myself to be there and “pushed” myself forward. Then I was at the light post. Then I was at the monkey bars, and then at the school’s back doors. I was able to reach all of these points without moving. I could teleport.

I was proud of myself.

It’s like pushing inside of your body,” I explained to the freckled boy, whom I was now friends with. “You just look at the spot and then push yourself towards it. Then, you’re there.” I tried to explain with little success. It was around early spring at this point.

The boy stood there and stared at the light post with an intense expression. His cheeks went bright red from straining and holding his breath. He tripped forward slightly and I caught him.  He looked disappointed. I sighed and transported us both over to the light post. He stood there in amazement and shock. I laughed, only to stop once I saw two men dressed in black suits, watching us from a distance.

I was at home. My dream home life was awful; I lived with my mother in a rundown house. She didn’t work and instead gambled by playing poker with friends. I was usually locked in my room when others came over; my mother didn’t want them to know that she had a child. For years, I stayed quiet and out of the way and kept up with my mother’s charades.  Today, however, the act was interrupted when some of her “friends” unlocked my bedroom door to see what was hiding behind it. The blonde woman glanced around my barren room and made a face. They confronted my mother and she shooed them out, saving her rage for me.

She chased me outside, wielding a rolling pin. I ran out into the yard, covering my head with my hands. She actually caught up with me and had me in her grasps. She raised the rolling pin and just as I focused on a tree in the distance.

Then everything froze. I was lifted from where I was standing, just high enough for my feet to skim the grass beneath me. I removed myself from my mother’s grasp as an invisible force carried me through my yard, over a hill, and to the tree of a neighboring garden. Everything around me was still frozen as I passed it. I was in awe at the sight; I had never experienced this with teleporting before. The invisible force set me down on the grass next to the tree. Then time resumed. I could hear my mother screaming in confusion and fear from down the block. I took one last look at my horrible shack of a home before transporting myself towards the setting sun.

Score: 6/10. The sensation of traveling was very real. It was a pressing sensation against my chest from the inside. It was like when you jar forward from shock or whiplash, but without physically moving. Not sure if it was a superpower or if I learned Harry Potter apparition. Witch, mutant, superhero…it was still pretty cool. I subtracted points for a choppy narrative.  

Stab, Your it! The Sequel (and more)

Dream 1: I had a dream last night that is loosely based on the dream I had earlier this week. The previous dream was referenced as a dream in this dream (very meta.) This dream started off on a much more sinister note. My family and our close family friends were hiding in various places of my parents house, in hopes of avoiding Jason Voorhees and his giant chainsaw. My parents hid upstairs, while my brother, Aunt L, and Uncle J, and I hid in the basement (which was about 3x the size it is in reality.) My brother squeezed himself in an old toy box and closed the lid, my Aunt A hid behind the bar, and my uncle had managed to remove the ceiling panels and hide in the space between the two floors (haha, what?)  I chose to hide in my dad’s workshop/storage area –there is a space under the stairs that someone could potentially hide in behind a line of things (this is actually a place that I commonly hide in nightmares involving my parent’s home.)

I heard the roar of Jason’s chainsaw and screams from upstairs. I panicked and ran from my hiding place, thinking it wasn’t good enough and that I would be caught next. I scrambled to where my uncle was hiding and begged him to let me share his hiding place. He told me to just remove another one of the panels and climb up. I managed to get up and slide the panel back in before I heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Jason had arrived.

From a crack in the ceiling, I could see Jason stalking around, looking for his next victim. He walked right beneath me and I held my breath, hoping he couldn’t hear my racing heart. He finally started to walk away and I sighed with relief. Then the paneling broke.

I fell from the ceiling and onto a pile of boxes. Jason turned and revved his chainsaw.

“Wait. WAIT!” I yelled. Jason paused, but the chainsaw kept running.

“I know how this works, and that you have to kill me,” I said. “But could you please make it quick? No tortuous chainsaws please!” Jason turned the saw off and stared at me for a few seconds before whipping out a gun and shooting me in the head at point-blank range.  I heard the shot, but felt nothing. I opened my eyes — well, eye, since I no longer had my left one. I could see and feel the oozing blood pouring from the wound in my head.

“Aww,” I whined. “I thought I picked a really good hiding spot this time…”

“Should have stayed where you were,” my uncle said, coming down from the ceiling.

“Ya, got me good this time, too!” I said, touching the bloody mess on my face.

“Can we call you Cyclops from now on?” my brother asked, climbing out of the toy box. Everyone laughed, including Jason. I made an overly-dramatic pouty face before laughing along with them.

Score: 6/10. I give this one such a high score for ending on such a “lighthearted” note. A weird bizarro world where people are mutilated without feeling pain or succumbing to their injuries.  Where the other dream I had started off fun and innocent and dissolved into disaster, this one started off terrifying and ended like a cheesy episode of the Twilight Zone.

 

Dream 2: I was a lab mouse that had somehow gained the intelligence and memories of a human being as part of an experiment. I wanted to escape the confines of my cage and see the ocean, which my human mind remembered fondly. There was another female mouse, who remembered a human life in Mexico, where she lived by the ocean. We agreed to team up and escape our prison.

The dream was a mix of scenic landscapes and hopeful discussions. I remember trees, rolling hills, deserts, and then finally an ocean town with cobbled streets and rolling waves.  I wish I could remember it in better detail, but it was beautiful.

 Score: 7/10. Weird. Surreal. Nice.

 

Wedding Disasters…Again!

As the date of our wedding quickly approaches, I’m not surprised that I’ve hand another dream full of panic and insanity revolved around getting married. (A little backstory: we are having a Halloween-themed wedding, traditional ceremony with a costumed reception. This plays into the dream.)

I’m in my costume (a female version of Watson from Sherlock Holmes). For some reason, I was sitting in one of the chairs in the middle of the row, before the ceremony was to begin. I knew I needed to get back and put my wedding dress on, but I was immobile. Everyone was frantically running around, doing last-minute touches and I was unnoticed in the frenzy.

I was shocked out of my paralyzation at the sight of my maternal grandfather, who was standing near the altar, facing away from me. My grandpa has been dead for the past fourteen years, and I knew this.

Still sluggish, I struggled to stand up. My brother walked by and noticed me.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“I see grandpa!” I answered, ignoring him. This was much more important.

“Yeah,” S replied. “He’s here just for a little while. He wanted to see you get married.”

“I want to go see him!”

“There’s no time!” my brother insisted. “ They’re starting the music soon!”

I was thrust into a near-empty hall, where my bridesmaids and the groomsmen were already lined up. My paternal grandfather and his wife (C) were standing there as well.

“There you are!” my grandpa exclaimed. “We were afraid that you would miss the ceremony, so we put C in your dress as a decoy.” (This is actually hilarious, because C is much shorter and more frail than I am, and is in her seventies.) She was wearing my dress and her face was covered with a veil, so people would not see her face. She quickly slipped off the dress and threw it over my head. I struggled with trying to take off the jacket of my costume and get the dress on.  Then, the music started. The wedding party started walking down the aisle. My maid of honor and R’s brother were the last to move and they walked reaaaalllly slow to give me a chance to get my dress on. I practically ran down the aisle, hoping that my pants would not be visible beneath my white dress.

The scene cuts to after the ceremony. We were outside with all of the family. My bridesmaids were wearing mismatched blood-red dresses (I didn’t seem to mind this as it was normal in my dream. In reality, they’re wearing black.)  However, I wasn’t happy with the fact that my aunt was also wearing the same color dress. My aunt found this funny and joked about it, as well as pointing out over and over again that the turnout to the wedding was terrible, claiming that people didn’t come because they would rather have their own Halloween parties, rather than see me get married. I stood there, flabbergasted, unable to argue or kick her out.

The dream ended with me upset and crying. Boo.

Dream Score: 1/10. Horrible like the last one, but I was happy to see my deceased grandpa even though I didn’t get to talk to him.

Wondering Wednesday: Stab, You’re it!

 

Have you ever had a dream where you felt pain? I mean, physical pain so strong that you wonder how it was possible to feel that level of pain when nothing is actually causing it? I had a horribly painful dream that night that not only made me want to cry, but created a strong level of fear and annoyance.

I was a kid again, and all the kids of the neighborhood were playing hide and seek tag. (In the dream, there were tons of kids, rather than just the few I grew up with.) The person who was ‘it’ would count to a hundred, then try seeking the hiders. If they spotted you, then you could run to a “safe point” (one neighbor’s deck). If they caught you before you reached the deck, you were now “it.” Easy enough, but one kid had a different idea on being ‘it.’

The game started as normal. This one chubby kid with brown hair was ‘it.’ He began counting and we all ran into the wooded area between our houses. I hid up in a tall, full-brush tree. I sat there for a while, waiting.

“I see you!” the boy said from the base of the tree, pointing up at me. I squealed in childhood surprise and giddiness and shimmied down the tree, trying to find a way to jump far enough from the trunk and run past him.

I attempted a leap from one of the low hanging branches, and the idea worked, I had managed to not be caught at the tree. However, I was not fast enough to reach the “safe” point and he caught me…by stabbing me in the back…with a knife. It was a blinding pain, I could feel my never shoot across my back violently.

Even though this kid does not exist in reality, I felt a huge “Et tu Brute?” moment as he twisted the blade next to my spine. We had had a huge dream history together. He had been my friend.

The game stopped at this point and I managed to get away, the pain slowly subsiding. But the terror didn’t end there. The rest of the game continued in a two person game of tag where I was always running from “it.” He caught a stabbed me several times in the back, chest, and stomach, and each time I managed to escape and heal only to be chased all over again. The worst pain was the being stabbed in the stomach. I remember crying. I have never been stabbed in reality, but my dream did a great job at making it feel excruciatingly painful.

I’ve experienced pain in my dreams before, usually by being bitten or scratched, but the stabbing was by far the worst.

 

Think-Back Tuesday: Luna Gone

This dream took place my junior year of college, and it was so story-like and full of intense emotion that I actually found myself truly sad, heartbroken, and in love when I woke up. (No when I say story-like, I mean it has a beginning, middle, and end…but it is still a dream, so things flow more surreal than a written fictional piece. I was so moved by this dream that I jotted it down is a mess of bullet points and chunky paragraphs with broken sentences. I then relayed this story to my close friend, which he told me was worth writing into an actual story. I agreed, but have never followed through, and I may never do so as it contents are very surreal at times and would be hard to flow together coherently. So, this will just be a more organized version of my notes that I wrote that morning over three years ago.

I was a girl on a farm with my little sister. This farm was in a very futuristic setting; the grass and fence were modern, but the surrounding fields were surrounded by a large bubble that encased the entire farm, keeping the polluted air out of the growing ecosystem. It was night, but the dome was lit by artificial lights. The sky was pitch black, not a single light could be seen in the sky.

The little girl and I were watching the cows on our farm. The girl was quite small and only spoke in babbles at this point as she toddled around the fence.

“What do the cows say, sweetie?” I asked her as she stared at the bovine in front of her.

“Moo, Nani,” she answered me directly. “Mooo. Moo, Na–”

Then I blacked out.

I woke up in my bedroom, the door was locked and I could hear someone crying outside of my door.

I tried to open the door, but failed and began beating on the wood.

“What’s going on?!” I shouted to my family.

“You killed her!” my mother screamed through her sobs. “You killed my baby girl!”

I suddenly knew what I had done. I knew I went into an angry rage while observing the cows on the farm, and that I killed my sister. But I couldn’t actually remember doing it. I just knew that I did.  I was in a state of shock; how and why did I kill my baby sister? I became a mess of emotions when I repercussions of what I had done sunk in. I cried in my bedroom. Why? Why? WHY?!

“I’ve contacted the Authorities,” I heard my father say from the hall. “They’ll take care of her.”

My heartbreak was replaced with fear. The Authorities gave eye-for-an-eye punishments. If you stole, something of value was taken from you, if you damaged something, something of yours was damaged, if you killed…

I hated myself for what I had somehow managed to do, but I didn’t want to die. Over the sounds of sobbing and angry words, I began planning my escape. My eyes drifted to the large vent above my desk. I knew it lead outside the house and was just big enough to crawl through. 

The world outside of our dome was dark, dank, and was less than easy to breathe in. The air out here was toxic, but I had heard rumor of cities of people living outside of domes, and managing to survive.

There was no grass, no trees, just sand, dirt, and rocks along the mountain range. I walked in a panic; I knew that I had to find shelter from the sun that would soon rise. Without a dome or other forms of shelter, the sun’s rays could kill. Just as I was resigned to my own potential death, I could see the outline of a city as the first colors of sun began to rise. I ran at full speed to this city. As I approached it, I realized that it was completely abandoned. The skyscrapers were partially crumbled from the lack of maintenance while smaller buildings had dissolved to bricks and dust.  Just as the sun began to rise, I found a building that wasn’t completely destroyed by the force of time. I watched the sunrise from my haven. The world became hot, exhaustingly hot, but still manageable as I hid in the darkest corner of the building. I waited out the day, sweating and desperate for food and water.

Finally, the sun set and the world cooled down again. I emerged from my hiding place and entered the twilight world around me. I explored the streets of the abandoned city. This time, however, it was not silent. I could hear footsteps and far off voices, but I didn’t see anyone. I called out, but no one answered.

I came across an abandoned house that looked pretty stable, so I struggled to climb over the fence that surrounded it. Out of nowhere a man appeared from behind the dilapidated shed in the yard. He was old, frail, and bald with a clean-shaven face. His skin was an ashy gray and he was slightly hunched, making his short height look even smaller.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he growled.

“Looking for water.”

“Well, you won’t find it in this junk heap,” he said.

We stared at each other in silence for several seconds.

“Well, were you banished, or did you run away from the domes?” he asked.

“What does it matter to you?” I spat.

He scowled and began walking away. I was unsure what to do next.

“Are you coming or not?

Confused, but grateful, I followed him out of the yard and back towards the mountains. As we left the city, people with the same greyish skin came out of hiding. They stared at me with fear at my pale-pink skin and tall stature. The old man seemed to be well respected to this strange community, because none of them questioned him when he stated that I would be treated as a guest.

As we approached the largest of the mountains, I see that there is a cave opening that lead to where these people seemed to be living. It gets darker outside as we approach it, and for the first time in my life, I see tiny pinpricks of light in the dark sky. I stopped in my tracks.

“What are those!?” I exclaimed, gawking at the mystical lights above me.

“Those are called stars,” the old man answered.

“Stars…” I repeated. They were so beautiful, so warm. I immediately loved them.

“Legend has it that they are the children of the moon…”

Again, I blacked out.

This time I “woke” up as I was being restrained by two of the larger grey men. I saw the old man in front of me, his face looked beaten and one of his arms was twisted in a funny way. I caught myself in mid-snarl as I bared my teeth at him. I stopped myself.

“I’m sorry!” I cried out. “I can’t control myself!”

The group glared at me in anger, but the old man looked up at me with a brilliant smile.

“My friends…family,” he stood up with difficulty “We have found her.”

I was now back in the city, but I was tied to two stakes with thick ropes, my arms stretched towards the heavens. I screamed and cried out, knowing that the sun would be rising soon. If I was caught in the sun, it’s harsh rays would burn my skin on direct contact. A painful death, or a horrendous existence if I managed to survive. I could see the members of this group standing in the shade of the nearby buildings. I called them everything in the books. I hated these people, this cult.

The sun rose and I stopped crying. There was no point in stopping the inevitable.

I stared up at the burning sun. My world went white hot. I closed my eyes.

“Where have you been?” A deep, soothing voice asked me.

I thought I was dead. Was there existence after death?

I slowly opened my eyes. I was in the sky, sitting on a cloud. It was bright all around me, yet I could see no sun. In front of me stood a fiery figure. It was a mass of fire in the shape  of a male human. I could see know discernible face, no eyes, just a glowing outline of red and orange.  Deep down, I recognized this figure, but I couldn’t place when or where.

“Oh Luna, don’t you remember?”

Upon hearing this name, my real name. I was flooded with a rush of memories and emotions. I had once been Luna, the goddess of the moon. I lived in harmony with the sun god, bringing light to the night. Once a month, (the new moon) I would disappear from the sky and take the form of a human and wander the Earth and all of its people.

One day, however, I was murdered by a street thief in my human body. Because I was murdered as a human, I was doomed to being trapped in an endless life cycle. I lived hundreds of lives as a human, with no memory of my life as a goddess. I lived and died in each one, each life was filled with sporadic rage when something reminded me of the life that had been robbed from me. The more lives I lived, the more violent I became. Hundreds of lives, each one another handful of years more away from a society that actually remembered that there had once been a moon in the sky.

“I searched for you for ages…” the fire figure said. “I even threatened the humans, and the did not return you to me.” The sun god told me he kept a close watch on the Earth for hundreds of years, punishing them by venturing closer than he used to, causing those to burn if they stood directly in his light.

“I did not know who I was,” I told him. “ I forgot when I was forced to be human.”

“Now that I have found you, I can destroy them of their evil ways!” he exclaimed.

“No,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder, immune to his scalding temperature. Sure, I was enraged at the person who killed me, but I had lived hundreds of lives filled with good people; loved ones, like my little sister. There were humans worth keeping alive. “They are not all bad. Let’s leave them be.”

I then returned to my rightful place of the sky.

Dream Score: 6/10. I was full of such strong emotions during sleep and after waking. Anger, fear, love, and immense sadness. I had to dock points for a confusing theme — a weird, hard-to-follow story that starts off more sci-fi post-apocalyptic and ends with a fantasy/ mythological theme. My mind must have been all over the place when I had this dream.

Some Privacy, Please!!

This dream begins with a map. I stared at the old-fashion map of paper and symbols. I was with my parents and we were planning our journey to visit my brother, who was living in the most northern part of our state. We planned on visiting him and staying at a large house with some friends that play euchre with my parents. We were all going to venture up north and rent this giant house for several days as a cheap, fun vacation.

Like a cheesy movie, our journey was marked with a cartoonish car as it followed the long route of the map, highlighting our stops and path.

We were now at the house. It was huge, with a full upstairs, ground floor, and furnished basement. Despite its size, we were pretty packed with the amount of euchre friends and their adult children (who I grew up knowing.) The parents took the official bedrooms, while us “kids” slept on couch-beds and blow-up mattresses in the basement. It wasn’t too bad at first, but I soon was overwhelmed with the lack of personal space. One morning I woke up, still tired from a fitful sleep, only to find that one of the guys had somehow managed to get his legs onto my blow-up mattress while still half-laying on his own bed. I rolled my eyes in disgust and pushed his legs off my bed. I got up, and ventured upstairs to the nearest bathroom. Just as I walked into the bathroom, the house all seemed to get up at once. I tried to lock the bathroom door as people walked by, but every time I shut the door, it slid open with a noisy creek. I could not get enough privacy to actually sit down and use the toilet. It drove me mad. I really had to use the bathroom. The few times I managed to shut the door, someone would come by and open it, apologize, and walk away.

Then I woke up…and used the bathroom.

 

Dream Score: 3/10. This dream drove me crazy! I just wanted to use the bathroom! At least my subconsciousness was keeping me from wetting the bed.

Stealing Hearts and Moving Doors

I’m rarely the antagonist in my dreams, usually I happen to be the hero, an innocent victim, or a floating observer. Everyone once in while, I am the villain; performing heinous acts that range from annoying to disturbing. Last night, I was a very disturbed version of myself.

In the dream, I am myself, but not quite myself. I’m only about 13-15 years old, and instead of being curly blonde, I have straight black hair. I am also in a version of my childhood home that M.C. Escher would be proud of — random staircases that end in impossible angles, bizarre decorations, and doors that are able to slide across walls.

I was an angsty teen with a terrifying agenda. I wanted to make friends and keep them close to me…forever. And I had the perfect way of achieving this goal. I had just invited a dream friend over; she had pretty red hair and a shy smile. I was luring her into my bedroom, while trying to keep my annoying family out of the way. My brother (who was around nine) kept trying to barge into my bedroom to annoy us. I growled and grabbed the frame of my door and pushed it across the wall until it face outside and too high up for my brother to reach from the ground below. My anger was then replaced with a devious smile. I turned to my new friend, who was observing a figurine on my windowsill. I picked up a large book off of my desk and smacked her upside the head with it. She fell to the floor with a small thud. I pulled out a large, vintage box from under my bed, which contained a small dagger, a black notebook, and a large china doll with the same orangey-red hair.

The scene played out like a cheesy horror film as I cut out the girl’s heart in a gory fashion. Luckily, there was far less blood than there should have been. I pulled out the notebook and chanted a few words, the heart kept beating in my hand. I set the book down and grabbed the doll, which had a little latched opening in the chest. I shoved the beating heart in and locked it back up. The doll vibrated in my hand (not unlike a game controller) and then it blinked. Once. Twice. Then, it looked up at me. I smiled down at her.

“You are so pretty,” I told her. I cradled her in my arms as I stood up. I walked over to my closet door and slid it open. On the upper shelves of my closet were several other dolls — some female, other male — who all stared at me with frightened expressions. I placed the new doll in the empty space. I smiled up at all of them with pride. I loved them all.

Dream Score: 2/10. Whoa….that was a very disturbing dream. Like I said, I’m not used to being the antagonist. I think the dream came from the various horror short-stories that I have been reading (one of them did involve a haunted doll.) I swear I’m not a psychopath…points for creepiness, though.