I was saving people [I could see their heads through a sort of curtain] who were threatened by a creep with long gray hair and a long gray beard. He had a manical laugh and every time I pulled someone through the curtain he jingled with a bunch of keys on a chain. I knew the keys were important.
Meanwhile, behind me, people were shouting: “Hurry UP, gum. Hurry UP, they’re dying!”
So I was working myself in a sweat, pulling people into safety, when the creep yelled: “This one you’ll get without his head, MWAHAHAHAHA” [it was a little boy]
The only thing I could think of was to grab his keys on the chain.
Which I did.
But instead… I grabbed the cloth on my bedside-table.
Cough-drops all over the floor,
Book in my partner’s eye,
&
My glass of water flew over me and my bed, thereby getting rid of my dry sheets AND my nightmare.
[Which is why I’m here, typing, in the middle of the night. ]
So…If you guys have a vivid dream, or nightmare, do you use your hands as well?
I don’t know of any nightmares I’ve had recently, but I know if I’m in great peril, I won’t be calling on you to get out the spandex and play SUPERgum. Why, you’d be in the middle of pulling me out of whatever great peril I was in (even if I just wanted a little peril), get distracted by some shiny objects, and then wake up on me! Humphrff! Saving people, indeed.
One night, I was dreaming that a mean dog was chasing me. He leaped to attack me, and I kicked him—er, I mean, the wall next to my bed, which was followed with a resounding BOOM that resonated throughout the house while waking me up. A hole in the wall was left, about the size of my knee. Thankfully, this didn’t hurt.
Amazingly, no-one else in the house was awaken by this.
A friend told me of a similar chase he dreamed of, only he spit at the dog—only to wake up in time to see a giant gob sail across the room and hit the opposite wall.
I had a dream last night that I was the very young mother (15 or so) of a very young (maybe 4-5 months) girl. I only remember bits and pieces, but whatever. It started like those movies that show the end first and then the rest is just like a really long flashback scene. So my daughter is found dead (stabbed a whole bunch of times), “in your grocer’s freezer section” (swear to god, all blonde and bloody and tucked in with the ice cream) and I’m completely devastated. Cut to flashback.
Some crazy guy (who I do not recognize in my real life, but who I’ve seen in my dreams before (he killed me once and another time he grabbed me from behind and held me and, while nothing really bad happened, I got a really bad vibe from him)) is stalking my daughter and me throughout the whole thing. I don’t think he’s the father; it certainly didn’t “feel” like it in the dream anyway. I lived in my parent’s house (where I grew up, a house that has since been burned down), but I don’t remember any of my family showing up to help me.
Crazy Guy eventually showed up there and I was freaking out and trying to get him to leave me alone when my phone rang and very calmly I’m all, “Hang on, Crazy Guy, I need to get this.” (I don’t remember what, if anything, I said to the guy in the dream, but he stopped pushing on the door and yelling when I answered the phone. So bizarre.) On the other end was a guy named Seth, a real life radio DJ who I talked to on the phone for more than hour a few weeks ago. I was all, “I can’t believe you’re calling me!” and flirty or whatever, and then my brain was like, “No way, this is too fucked up. Let’s wake up now.” and so I did. At fucking 8 o’clock this morning.
Grr.
A few things. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a 15 year old mother. In reality, I’m the 22 year old mother of a 2 year old boy. But now that I think about it, I’m can’t really be sure that my baby was a girl because I only saw the baby once and it was face down. Even so, I’m almost positive it was a girl.
I almost never remember my dreams but when I do, they’re usually a lot like this.
Another example, which I just related to someone in chat.
After Alex [my boy] was born, almost every night I had a dream that either he died in some horrible way or I died in some less horrible way. The worst was when I was outside and someone attacked my house with bottle rockets* and it caught fire, but it spread too quickly and I couldn’t save him. The POV kept switching between me freaking out outside and him burning to death in his crib. I saw him MELTING. I didn’t sleep for days after that one. That’s the only time I’ve ever woke up completely freaked out and bawling my head off.
*I was outside because I thought they were shooting stars and I wanted to watch them.
That was a seriously fucked up dream. I hate my brain.
I’ve never fought in a dream before, but my father gave my mother a black eye once while dreaming he was still sheriff and was fighting an escaping convict.
Last week I woke up in the middle of the night, with the tatters of a barely-remembered dream around me. A second later I realized my dog was standing beside me growling… mencingly but softly. Then from the far side of the room something growled back! :eek: Then I woke up for real (I was still dreaming). Took awhile to get back to sleep.