Dream, Dream, Dream...
Yes, another (somewhat long) dream post. I had this dream last Sunday night, but I'm only posting it now because I've been all distracted lately. So, anyone who is easily bored by dream posts, exit stage left...
For some reason, I was in what looked like my gran's old house and a party had just ended. I waved goodbye to everyone and went back to the dining room to start the clear-up operation when my mobile rang.
I picked it up, and a creepy, horror-movie-esque voice on the other end told me that he was watching me, yadda yadda. I looked out into the garden through the glass sliding doors, but because it was dark outside and the lights were on inside, I couldn't see anything.
A guy walked up behind me and asked what was wrong. In the dream, I glanced up, and while my conscious mind registered that something was a bit weird, my dream-state didn't. See, this guy was Ryan, only he looked really different - he was around six feet tall, had black hair and was all muscly. That was when I noticed that I had blonde hair and was about 5' 6". And I was wearing a long, extremely girly skirt. Freaky. We lived together in the house and were romantically involved - something which my present-day-oriented brain found hard to grasp - and I realised that we were both in our twenties.
This series of realisations happened in a split second, as though someone had just plugged it into me... Anyways, on with the action.
I held the phone away from my ear and asked 'Ryan' to put his around my waist (protective-guy thing attempt to scare off freaky caller). He did, looking puzzled, and I told the caller that I was going to hang up. I snapped the mobile shut (I had a really cute flip phone), turned around and walked away from the window, ducking into a blind spot between two sofas and pulling 'Ryan' down with me.
"What are we doing down here?" he asked.
"I don't want to get killed." I answered, my heart pounding.
"What makes you think you're going to get killed?"
"I'm psychic, remember? Something's really wrong with this..."
I trailed off, because 'Ryan' was smiling in an odd kind of way. He was holding something out, and it took dream-me a few minutes to register what it was: a mobile phone with my number in the last-dialled list.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't have the chance. I actually felt the knife entering my chest, and slowly piercing right into my heart.
There was a little pain at first, but then all I could feel was how cold the knife was. I struggled a little, but with every twitch I felt the knife cut more of my cardiac muscle. I felt dizzy, and the coldness in my heart spread through the rest of my body... it was happening so quickly, but it felt as though time had slowed. I felt my consciousness leaving my body - it was as though I was seeing double as my physical eyes and my metaphysical 'eyes' separated. And throughout all of this, 'Ryan' was still smiling.
"Wake up! Wake up! Do you want to die for real? Wake up!" My brain was screaming at me. I tried to pull myself out of the dream, but I was so tired and so cold... everything was turning black and time was slipping away.
"Get the hell awake!" My brain had taken to yelling obsceneties at me, and slowly I began to wake up, taking deep breaths and rather than trying to slow my heartbeat, trying to speed it up. My arms felt heavy and my mind was dull. When I finally managed to open my eyes, the remainder of my consciousness snapped back.
"What the hell was that all about?" I muttered, checking that all of my limbs were working. Even though it's been a whole week, I can't come up with an interpretation that fits...
Here's hoping it wasn't pre-cognitive!
I've also realised that I partake of Freudian reading far more than I would like... a Google search for something or other returned the page title "Do hobbits have hobbit-sized ...", the dots indicating that a part of the title had to be cut off.
My eyes widened. No way! Surely they didn't mean...?
"Do hobbits have hobbit-sized pets?"
Apparently not. Damn my dirty mind...