I have two that I can think of that are worth mentioning… I had forgotten about them, they occurred so long ago, but this thread suddenly brought them back up to a conscious level.
The first occurred while I was still in high school. My best friend, a good friend, and I were in my best friend’s home. It was very cold - the house had no heat, and we were trying to keep warm with coffee.
A series of murders had occurred in our little town, perpetrated by a mysterious figure in a creepy green mask. Witnesses had said that the face was quite distorted, almost melted, and that a shoulder length mess of gray hair fell from the back. The murderer also wore a tuxedo, and wielded a butcher knife. My friends and I were discussing this.
After a while, my two pals decide to go out back and smoke, as this would warm them up a bit more. I stayed behind and sat, meditatively, in the foyer. A moment passes, and the front door slowly opens. It is, as you might have guessed, the murderer.
The killer lunged at me, slashing his blade. I, being a martial arts enthusiast, moved within the range of the blow, blocked his forearm, and grabbed on tight. But he was so damn strong that I could not affect his balance, or perform any disarming technique at all. It was just his brute strength against my failing muscles, his blade inches from my face, and all the while, through the mask, I saw his maniacal eyes just burning into me.
Knowing that three men could easily take care of this one, I tried to shout for my friends out back, but no noise came out of my mouth. I tried again, and failed once more. Knowing that if I didn’t get help ASAP I would die, I sucked in as much air as I could, and summoned every bit of willpower I had. I shouted, again, and again, and again. My friends did not come.
And I awoke. My father shook me awake. It turns out that I was really screaming in my sleep. This had not happened before, nor has it happened since. This has bothered me greatly.
The second dream occurred the night that my second true love ended our relationship. I was decked out in the armor of a knight- a form fitting chest plate over a chain mail shirt, greaves, boots, and a gray cape secured by a golden clasp. I stood, , standing guard before a single stone tower in the middle of a barren field. The sun was setting, and the sky was so beautiful.
My fair lady approached on a steed. She wore a white gown and a laurel-leaf crown. I helped her off of her mount, and led her into the tower, up to the top floor, where a master bedroom had been prepared for her. She lay down upon the bed, and fell asleep. I stood guard all night, standing at the single window, my hand resting upon the hilt of my sword, the sword tip placed upon the ground. Every now and then I glanced back at her. She seemed so content, so happy.
The sun rose, and I woke her. I led her back down and out of the tower, helped her on to her steed, and watched her ride off over the horizon. Then I wanted to cry, but couldn’t, and wanted to cast off my armor and my sword, but couldn’t. I just sighed instead, and remembered her touch.
For some reason, this dream pleases me, even now.