…by bad dreams. I’m not sure what it means that not only I slept very little, but when I managed to drift away, I had these bizarre, unsettling dreams.

Dream One

I went to a party where I saw all my old childhood friends, now fully grown. One of them, one of my closest friends in the world, took me aside, brought me to her bedroom, and started berating me about having abandoned them all. She removed a large piece of luggage from her closet, and started removing dirty clothes and old blankets, claiming it was all I’d left behind. Then she pulled me closer, started whispering in my ear frantic words I don’t remember, and finally handed me a screwdriver with the head removed, and in its place a very sharp but rusty tip of a knife had been secured in place. My close friend had gifted me a shiv. What the hell. I stared at it for what must have been ten dream minutes, wondering why she thought I’d need a shiv. I woke up with a start from that one.

Dream Two

The worst one. It won’t sound like it, but it felt like it, which is what counts. I had just gotten home, and had parked the car on the street where I live. I got out, and though it was the middle of the day and it was as unsinister as it could possible get, I suddenly hear voices screaming, and telling me to run. I looked around, and about a half a block away, a little girl stood in the middle of the street. She started running towards me. I thought, in my dream, this is a little girl. An adorable little girl, smiling and running toward me as though she wants to give me a hug. And she was. She was around four years old, with soft brown curly hair framing her cute grinning face, and as she got closer and closer with her arms stretched in my direction, I began to feel the worst terror I’ve felt in a dream, in many years. I bolted from where I stood, and no matter how fast I ran, she gained on me, still laughing. As she reached to grab me, I woke up with a half-formed silent scream.

I don’t usually (or ever, actually) bother with dream analysis, especially when I know there are no answers in those dreams, only the continuation of questions that visit my mind every day, that get answered by two views in my head at the same time. I thought I’d share them here because I don’t ever have dreams where I fear something much smaller than I am. It’s only happened once before. This unsettling feeling would probably not exist if I’d not slept in harmful, short fits. Or if I had a dream shiv.

I need one of those.


4 thoughts on “Plagued

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  1. Freaky dreams. One school of thought is that dreams are messages from your unconscious, trying to grab symbols that mean things to you, as though we were aliens unto ourselves, struggling with communication. And the more urgent the message, the more of a nightmare it becomes.

    I’ve had many dreams in which my friends inform me, directly or passively, that I’ve let them down and they’re anxious to move on. Does Dream One have any bearing on your real life? Do you ever feel you moved out of one stage of development abruptly, without paying your respects to what you were moving away from?

    And dream environments, they don’t have to look creepy to feel horrifying. There’s some hidden knowledge that your brain’s keyed into, even when everything appears safe and friendly and harmless. We should have a word for this sensation by now, nearly everyone’s experienced it, I’m sure.

    I’m sorry your rest wasn’t restful. I hope your brain got whatever it was out of your system and you’ll get a sounder slumber next time.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My life is a series of developmental-stage jumps and skips. I catch up later, when it’s unseemly. So be it. Yes, my dreams taste like messages. I had a series of similar dreams with the same message about thirteen years ago. I chose to define those serial dreams as prophetic, and it blew up in my face. So, now I’m choosing to ignore them. In the past I would have done otherwise, every time. But this is the new Undersquid, stretching miles into every direction, propelled from the violence of lessons learned. If there’s a wall, I’m purposefully running toward it. The way I see it, no matter what I do, there’s always a wall.

      Dream One has some bearing on my real life, but not in the friend context. I’m still in touch with her through Facebook… she does worry about me overmuch, but that is her loving nature.

      Dream Two was just… no literal context. Just fear. Fear always has context.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I had a friend who was very much into horror movies, games and such, and she was convinced that the “evil little girl” trope was the worst of the bunch. Having been on the receiving end of many nightmares (tornadoes seem to be my fave) I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s the mind’s (rather messed up) way of safely experiencing stress and panic. Think of it like riding a roller coaster. In theory it’s safe, scary fun. Adrenaline flows, there’s screaming, and it’s over. The chief difference is that we willingly get onto the ride (or some do, I won’t go near them). Now, if that little girl shows up every night for a week, that’s a different matter, and it’s time lucid dream yourself a bazooka to handle the matter…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I agree with your friend. I was a creepy little girl, so I safely assume all little girls in the world are worsening replicas of myself. I did, after all, wanted to grow up to become a vampire / contract killer. Not a doctor, not a scientist, not an astronaut. A contract killer.

      I wish it actually worked as a sort of safety valve, so that whatever stylized (or distilled) panic actually escapes as ectoplasmic steam, instead of forcing the sufferer to wake in a state of distressed unrest.

      That little girl shows up again, just once, she’s getting the lucid treatment.


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