For the past week, I’ve been having some pretty horrible nightmares. Now, normally I wouldn’t write about something so serious, but I’ve read that describing your nightmares can potentially help keep them from returning. And I most definitely need that.
These nightmares always occur within the 1-2 hours before my alarm is set to get up for work. I haven’t been able to go back to sleep after having any of them.
Furthermore, they seem so entirely real that I often can’t tell when I’m awake and not in them anymore. And I can’t stop thinking about any of them.
For the record, I’ve rarely ever had dreams.
1 – The Apartment
Roughly a week ago, I had the dream that started this bought. Apparently, I’d gotten a new apartment. This place, which was a fancy high rise, was located in an urban area, essentially downtown Austin. The only area I saw, though, that let me know it was “fancy” was the downstairs area. Down there, you’d find a large gold-all-over-the-place parlor with a big fancy elevator for people to use. I had some friends downstairs, though the only person I actually recognized in real life was Leslie. I never saw this area or these friends again after this shot.
Next, I saw myself in my apartment. My place was at the very very top of this complex, but the interesting thing is that, as the building gets taller, the width of it gets smaller. So, my room was basically the roof, a 3×3 square of concrete with a chair attached to it, which I sat on the whole time.
I remember taking in my surroundings from up there. It was nighttime, with big, scary black clouds. I felt like I was sort of in the clouds, even though I knew I wasn’t. I could see the building beside mine, which housed all the pets for those who lived in the complex. I could hear them all mewing and barking and sounding incredibly sad. On the street far below, I could see some people my age, laughing and having fun and walking by on their way to do whatever it is that college-aged kids do in the late hours.
Suddenly, the wind picks up, and the apartment starts to sway. I’m clinging desperately to my chair, trying to stay on. As I’m being whipped around, the tower leans forward with the wind, and I can see the ground. I know it would take only a little more wind to hurl me off of the complex and down onto the street below. I’m panicky, miserable, and I can still hear the people laughing amongst themselves below.
2 – The Zombie
On Monday, I dreamt that I was in a house with a four other adults and two kids. One man was obviously in charge, two (female and male) I don’t really remember, and one was bald, wearing plaid, and lily-livered. The kids were male and female and seemed to have a closer connection to the bald man. It was daytime, and sun was peaking through the trees and the windows into the house.
Everyone is stressed, nervous, anxious, and freaking out a little. The man in charge has a shot gun, and he yells something at me. Suddenly, we’re all running for our lives out of the house. I see the kids running, too, and they’re screaming. One of them tries to jump over a fence when, suddenly, a plump older woman in a purple dress snatches him and EATS HIM, ripping all of his limbs off. I see the bald man start crying but we’re all still running.
Suddenly, there’s a scene cut. We’re in front of the house. The old woman is on her knees, and she looks fucking scary. Around her, the man in charge and the man I don’t really remember anything else about are holding guns to her head. The man in charge is talking, loudly, to all of us. I’m scared as shit.
I see the cowardly man in the corner of my eye. He’s crying over the kids (the girl is missing at this point). Then something goes wrong, and the old lady gets free. I watch her as she goes straight for the bald man… she massacres him. Slaughters.
Everyone is making a break for it, and I’m running down the road as fast as I can. I’m trying not to look back, but I have absolutely no confidence that I won’t be caught.
3 – The Beating
I’m in the army or something. It’s nighttime, and I’m up somewhere high in what looks like a parking garage. I have a machine gun in my hands. I’m patrolling.
On the ground, I can see two soldiers in fatigues illuminated by street lights. As I watch them, I realize that the thin, well-built one is in charge. He yells at the other man (who is extremely overweight) to get down on the concrete.
So, the fat guy lies face-down on the ground. Then, the officer pulls out a police baton and starts beating the big guy as hard as he possibly can in the back. Over and over and over again. The large guy is screaming out in pain. It’s deafening. I’m standing with my mouth agape, just completely astonished. I start looking around, but I realize no one else sees this but me.
I know there’s nothing I can do. I can’t get down there in time to stop it, I can’t shoot an officer, and I can’t even defend the large man if I wanted to. So I have to stand there and watch him being beaten to death. I start crying, and I want it to stop. Finally, the large man stops making any noise, and it ends.
4 – The Contest
Last night, I had the worst nightmare yet.
I dreamt that I was involved in some sort of contest (though a really horrifying one). Essentially, contestants have to make it through one night in their room. What happens is that this really evil entity comes into your room, and you have to survive until the sun comes up. I don’t know why I was in this contest, considering everyone else had died in the process. But I was.
On the same night I was supposed to go through the challenge, an ex I never speak to anymore was supposed to go through it, too. We talk about how nervous we are, but how we believe we can do this. At the registration desk, I hesitate to sign my name, but I go through with it, as I feel that if I don’t, I’ll be leaving my ex on his own (even though each contest is for the individual only, not the both of us as the same time). So, scared, I sign.
I’m in my room, waiting for the contest to start. I peak out of my window. The ex’s room is situated across from mine, and, even though his blinds are closed, I can see his silhouette. He’s pacing. I pick up my phone and call him. For whatever reason, his mom answers, and I demand to speak to him. I can’t remember if I get to or not.
Then, I see his lights go out. I back away from my window, assuming his contest has begun and that mine will soon. I’m terrified, but, after waiting for a long while, I fall asleep. When I wake up, I realize I need to go to the bathroom and get ready for work. I notice that Zach is sleeping beside me, but don’t think anything of it. This feels like a normal night, and, in my sleepy haze, I forget I’m even in a contest.
When I get to the bathroom, I go through my normal routine. I put some of my clothes on, put on deodorant and perfume, and then reach for my toothbrush. It isn’t in the holder. Suddenly, I remember I’m in a contest. I try not to freak out, to remain totally calm. I don’t show it in my face that I’ve had this realization, hoping that, if I ignore it, the contest will just go away… that it’ll never even begin. But, of course, it already had.
As I lean down to look in my cabinets under my sink for a toothbrush, I hear the bedroom window open. I can hear the outside elements: extreme wind, leaves flying, thunder. I run into my room through the closet entry, and, as I run toward the bed to Zach, I’m lifted up in the air and onto the ceiling over the bed. I’m thrashing about in the wind and the leaves, and I can see Zach sleeping below me. I try to scream out to him, but I can’t speak. Instead, I’m screaming these loud whimpering noises, which are all I can manage. I’m absolutely horrified, as I know this is just the beginning.
Zach appears to hear something, and he wakes up. He’s looking around the room, but he seems like he can’t see anything or figure out where the noise is coming from. I’m still doing my best to scream, and I’m reaching out to him with all of my might. He then does look up at me – towards me – but obviously can’t really see anything. His face is stressed, like he knows what’s happening, but can’t see it or do anything about it.
Apparently, I was actually doing this loud whimpering in real life, too, as it wakes me up. When I wake up, I don’t move. I’m paralyzed. I’m afraid I’m still in the dream, that this is just another part of it. Or that, god forbid, this is real.
I guess all of this woke Zach up, too, because he reached over and touched my back. I jerked out of my paralyzed state, starting to calm down when I realized that it was indeed just a nightmare. He then told me I was whimpering loudly, and he asked if I was okay.
Was not okay.
—–
I feel like the running theme in these dreams is helplessness. But maybe I’m missing something.
