ZZZZZZZ ARGHHH A NIGHTMARE
The other day I was talking to a friend of mine about nightmare’s/dreams, and I pointed out that I’ve been nightmare free for about five years. Except for a few times.
Usually when I have a nightmare I just wake up, “alter” the dream, go back to sleep, and hey presto! happy night. Most of the time dreams are weird right? The colors are dim, there are no details in the background (try and remember exactly what the setting of last night’s dream was. Exactly, you can’t), people seem faceless, or “weird” stuff happens that can’t in a million years be true. Normally I’m somewhat comforted when I have weird ass nightmares because even asleep I know they aren’t real.
The Dead Neighbour
First the dream is just a confusing normal one. It’s less “foggy” than an average dream, but not by much. I’m watching the news and there is this women who invented this sort of competion that everyone is psyched about, but ends up “sucking” the people into (think Spykids 3D). She’s been attacked and the friend who helped her develop the contest/game/whatever has been brutally murdered. As the woman who is being interviewed is psychotically warning the audience not to join, she yelps as she is hit in the head with a kind of bludgeon and the TV connection fails.
Then my dream self has a flashback: flashback self (FS) is walking through a peaceful valley where everyone is having fun. FS is all alone and considers joining a group of teenagers she hears laughing in the distance. They’re sitting in a hot tub thing and FS turns away for a second and walks a few yards to a bird. Something is feeling a bit eerie, but the teenagers are still chortling. In fact, one girl is laughing hysterically Whatever could be so funny? DM wants to turn around, and is just about to, but she notices that the girl isn’t laughing anymore, she’s started yelling horribly. They’re dead, FS just knows it, and she starts walking away hurriedly, she doesn’t want to be killed too….
The flashback ends and I’m back in my sitting room, looking at the TV. I check the cable, but the wire looks cut. The dream is know hiper realistic. It isn’t foggy and all the colors are saturated. I can make out every single tiny detail of my real life sitting room. Suddenly I’m feeling panicky. Something isn’t right, why are the lights so dark? Why me? The killer could kill me anytime. Why am I still alive? I’m terrified, but something starts making sense. I need to run away, he/they know where I live. I just need to tell mom. Mom! She’s in the kitchen, doing the dishes, only the lights are flickering a little because it’s ridiculously hard to replace the main light bulb I call her, but she say’s she’ll be there in a minute. But I can’t wait can I? So I drag her to the main hallway and tell her, it’s urgent, we must go! She asks why, and after I explain she thinks I’ve made it up and grins and asks if I want her to look behind the furniture for monsters. I shake her arm but she won’t go.
I look back into the kitchen. The lights are still flickering and the window is open. My mom isn’t making things any easier for me, leaving the window open like that anybody could come in. Wait, what is that? It’s an arm and a corpse stars crawling to me. It’s a grey-ish green and it’s skin is flapping and kinda looks like a really old person whose lost a bunch of wait recently. He looks vaguely Asian and is dragging himself on the floor (literally) with a knife in his hand.
“Moooooommmmm!!!” I say, shaking her arm, wanting her to move.
I point at that being.
“Oh, Marina,” she says, still grinniing “That’s just our neighbour Mr Smith. You know, he died last week.”
She’s still smilling like there is nothing wrong with that sentence and looks fondly at Mr Smith. Then she frowns a little, like she’s suddenly figured something out that was vaguely bugging her and oppens her mouth. But Mr Smith rises up in a tenth of a second. His back is straight like a dignatarian and he glances at me and winks. In a flash, before I can even stand to say a word of caution he proceeds to stab my mom. She falls on the floor, blood flowing out of her. She gives me a look like she doesn’t know why I didn’t warn her, why I didn’t save her, and before anything else, a second has passed, only a second, Mr Smith turns to me with his bloody knife and with a motion—
I wake up.
This dream was horrid as you can imagine. It was so realistic, in a way it was more real than reality, and I picture it better than some stuff that happened less than a week ago.
Disturbingly, my kitchen lights are currently not functioning properly………
On a lighter note, I do not have, nor have I ever had a neighbour called “Smith”, and I just added that name to be generic. In my dream I knew *zombie* was my neighbour, but he doesn’t exist in real life, so I don’t know where this dream came from.