Strange, when I was younger I’d have reoccurring dreams but they would never be this consecutive. It'd be spread out among random weeks; never more than twice, and certainly never consecutive days in a row.
It's one thing to have nightmares every single night for over a month, but it's another when you've completely run out of fresh thoughts and you have to settle with secondhand dreams. Well, in this case, five times over.
It's one thing to have nightmares every single night for over a month, but it's another when you've completely run out of fresh thoughts and you have to settle with secondhand dreams. Well, in this case, five times over.
Allow me to jump right into it. Ready?
I’m in a well-lit, tiny apartment with peach-colored walls lying in bed with someone who very much resembles Charles Manson/Vincent Gallo. I have no idea how I ended up there or what I’ve gotten myself into, but we’re facing one another in nothing but our underwear.
I’m scared shitless as he tells me nice things about myself which I don’t consider because of his obvious manipulative nature. I can’t look him in the face so I’m staring at his fury chest.
I hold him at an arms distance. We’re lying on top of the unpleasantly cold covers. I feel completely exposed.
There’s a knock at the door, excuses himself to see who’s there. He suddenly turns frantic and tells me it’s his [girlfriend, fiancé, wife] and pleads with me to hide under the bed. At first I refuse, but his tone changes to a frightening demand, so I obey.
I feel like a fool.
In comes a loose pretty young woman wearing black with her hair down. She looks completely sedated/drunk. She throws herself around the apartment and eventually plops herself, belly down, on the bed with her arms flailing off the side.
He’s irritated as they start to converse. She runs her hands aggressively to fix the bed- skirt as I’m lying directly below her; I could feel her breath. Her hands eventually make their way to my hair and she starts to run them through my hair, detangling my knots, paying no attention to the fact that she’s touching me. Her hands move more and more gently as time passes.
Our man starts to really get irritated as his voice deepens and demands her to go to the bathroom. She slowly (and I mean slowly) abides by his order and disappears into the light. The bathroom door is open as he walks towards the light. I look out from under the bed and watch him standing at the doorframe, talking to her as he gets more and more aggravated by her lethargic remarks.
He pulls out a gun and shoots her 3-4 times.
I wake up.
2 comments:
oh the same thing happened to me many years ago, andwhen I told someone it stopped. another thing that works for me is to realise inside the dream, that I'm dreaming so I can go out and do whatever I want, try to think that it's your dream, you control it after all
:)
That is scary. i actually got goose-bumpy. Hopefully those dreams will be over soon. Watch more comedies? lol
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