My Favourite Nightmare

Pull up a chair and get a cup of hot cocoa, this is good. Let me preface by saying that I had the following nightmare about five years ago and it was one of the most vivid dreams of my life. Occasionally I have nightmares that are so visually and accoustically real that they make reality itself seem two simplistic and unacceptably fake by comparison. This was one of them.

The dream begins at a picnic attended by a bunch of twenty-somethings. They appear to be college-types, well mannered and dressed, in short the beautiful people. The food is a veritable smorgasbord, a wide variety of foodstuffs, everything of exceptional quality. There are also soda pops and beers of many types.

I begin making my way to the food when I encounter a beautiful woman. We are making conversation and we seem to be hitting it off nicely. Everything I say seems to be the right thing and this chick is intensely and genuinely digging me. I’m marveling at the perfection of this day when suddenly the woman begins to dissolve before my very eyes. As she begins to fade I say ‘No, wait!’ but she continues to disappear with a wave and all I hear is “Bye! bye!”

Immediately I encounter another woman, even more beautiful than the first. Once again we engage in communication and again we seem to have remarkable chemistry. Just as I am settling into this reality (and oh my god, can this possibly be real?) the woman once again begins to dissolve. Again I protest but to no avail. Once again there is the dissolving, the waving, and the fading byes.

It may have happened a third time but if so I was getting a bit wise at this point. I make a decision to just get some food so I head for a tray that’s situated among the college twenty-somethings. I’m trying to fix my plate when I bump the tray and it begins to fall. I grab it with my free hand but it’s still unbalanced. I ask for help but before it is forthcoming I see two rats emerge from underneath the tray. The food is corrupted and we didn’t even know.

At this selfsame moment the sky darkens and a chilly wind begins to blow. The college twenty-somethings all begin collecting their things in preparations to leave. I stand there kind of dumbfounded, wondering what to do. Suddenly the sky darkens even further to an evil hue and the wind begins to howl. The people are all running now to the various entrances of their dorms. As an outsider I know I don’t have a dorm to run to but belatedly I finally run at an entrance. Surely these friendly strangers will extend shelter to me. Just as the last person gets in in front of me, they turn around with a look of fear in their eyes and slam the door on me. I hear the unmistakable sound of locks being secured and it’s then that I understand that this wind and storm itself have come specifically for me.

I’m running around the campus now but there seems to be no escape from this maze of buildings. In a intense anxiety now I begin flying, but my flying ability only extends about five feet off the ground, I can’t fly over the buildings. I’m going faster now but still there is no escape. Then everything goes dark.

When I regain consciousness I am literally in hell. Hell is a series of underground tunnels built of concrete bricks. If you’ve played America’s Army think the tunnels of the Pipeline map (strange since at the time of this dream I had not yet every played America’s Army). These halls are clustered with the other denizens of hell, most of whom seem to be from my socio-economic background, in short the hood. The walls are colored blood red and the floors and ceilings are black. The lighting is poor in hell and the halls seem to be a mass of confusion. The prime occupation here seems to be running down the halls from unseen but imminent dangers that come first from one direction, then from another. I run the halls and join in the torment. This is bad but after a while I decide it could be worse.

At some point I recognize one of my fellow damned. It’s Monique’s baby’s daddy, the father of her son Paytie (I forget his name). He’s the same old jive talking backwards hat wearing dude he was in life. I say what’s up. He responds in kind and it occurs to me then to ask him if he’ll hook me up with a haircut. You might have to be in hell but that’s no excuse for looking bad. The next thing I dig I’m sitting in a barber’s chair and old boy is going to work with the clippers, scissors, and comb. Everything seems to be going ok except.

Sudden paranoia. It suddenly occurs to me that this guy is more foe than friend and I become convinced that he’s going to slit my throat with a straight razor. I must do something quick as time if of the essence. I whip the chair around grab his skull firmly just as he’s going for my throat. I jam my thumbs in his eyes and with a grimace and gutteral sounds we begin to struggle. My thumbs in his eye sockets give me the advantage, the only thing now is not to let up, to show no mercy lest he gain the advantage. I won’t release my death hold on him and I’m moving my thumbs around his eye sockets, trying to get to his brain. The inside of the eyes are warm and sticky. His strength begins to wane and his last words are grudging props extended through a grimacing smile. Then he is dead.

Afterward I’m washing my hands trying to remove all evidence of the crime. There were no witnesses but I’m conscious of circumstantial evidence and I’m working on an alibi. The dream ends here in this state of anxiety and suspense. I have had vivid and intense nightmares before and since, but his one is by far the best.

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