Please don’t read if you are hemophobic (afraid of blood).
I was the contestant on a reality show, and all the women were stripped down naked, led to showers. When the shower heads turned on, blood sprayed from the spigots and I swallowed some. I slipped and fell in it, blood coating one side of my body.
I put on a hospital gown and the blood seeped through. I was walked into a church and sat beside a teenage boy who was a cutter. His wrists and forearms were covered in scars. He held onto a notebook where he sketched pictures of me and wrote me poems.
He clung to me while trying to push me away, telling me lust was a sin. When I tried to speak to him, he silenced me and brought me back to the showers where he tried to rape me.
A shriek echoed inside of my head like the sound of a metal saw blade grinding against a sheetof metal. I ground my teeth against each other, squeezing my eyes shut. When I opened them again, I was in the kitchen of a group home, making pancakes.
A younger guy, probably in his mid-teens who seemed to be a little intellectually delayed, approached me and asked me if he could go outside and play basketball as I made breakfast. He kept describing another guy in the group home as his surgeon. I thought it was a harmless delusion, so I told them to go play basketball outside until breakfast was ready.
I went outside to tell them breakfast was ready and the guy I identified as my brother (the one who initially approached me about playing basketball) was wailing in heart-wrenching pain. At first, I thought his arm had twisted around his back at an awkward angle, but then I saw from his elbow down, his arm was missing. Dark crimson red blood was everywhere. His screams were agonizing. The bone left behind was black from oxygen depletion and decaying.
The boy they called the surgeon showed me the saw they had used and pointed out the jar with his lower arm sealed inside. The water they kept it in was red with blood.
The guy I identified as my brother sniffled and told me that it was okay because his arm was infected and had to be sawed off to be saved.
I had a literature final, but I was lost inside of a building, wandering down corridors that led me to the wrong wing or ran me into dead ends. No matter where I went, I could not find the English wing. Some of the building was labeled what section I was walking into: Gymnasium, Foreign Language, Social Sciences, but no matter where I went, it was a labyrinth I could not navigate.
I knew I was getting later and later by the minute, and I could feel my heart speeding up as I ran out of time. I ran past a classroom, and there was a group of teachers playing a game. I paused, recognizing a voice in the mix of voices.
It was one of my favorite teachers from high school.
When their game ended, I tried to talk to him, but he refused to talk to me. He was suddenly furious with me, his face reddening with rage. A bright white light appeared. The light blinded me.
Somehow, I ended up outside of the building, sobbing into my hands. A stranger and his partner appeared on a flying, steampunk motorcycle. They offered to take me to the classroom where the literature exam was being held. The man who drove the motorcycle fiddled with a wedding band and engagement ring, fusing them together in his hands, as we flew.
We continued to fly until we arrived outside of the building. I desperately wanted to get inside, but giant, flying giant bugs battled outside where the motorcycle flew.
Once inside, I was lost within a maze again.
As I sobbed into my hands, I gave up. I surrendered that I would never find the classroom. A best friend from my childhood arrived and showed me where to go. Inside the classroom, I sat down to do whatever I could to complete the exam before time was up. My mom stood behind me, whispering awful things in my ear as I take the exam. Frustrated with nearly failing the exam and my mother saying terrible things about me, I stood up and told her to leave.
I told her that I was going to find my own way and that I would pay for everything on my own from now on just so I don’t have to see her.
She told me that’s fine, but I would never see my grandma again.
Knowing I would never see my grandma, one of the few people who love me unconditionally, I burst into tears. Somehow, through my tears, I finished the exam, my heart broken yet proud that I had decided to not speak to my mother ever again.
I have unanimously decided (with the help of some social media friends) that I will be doing a semi-regular feature on my blog describing my dreams. Since my novel so frequently mentions dreams, I think it’d be fun to share some of the more interesting dreams I’ve had with y’all. Don’t worry: I won’t be sharing the boring ones like where all my teeth fall out and I’m sucking on my gums.
Last Saturday, I dreamt I was homeless and wandering around abandoned construction sites. I traveled with a girl who had violet eyes and a dark violence to her appearance. We broke into a library one night and shattered a projector that shot images of stars at the ceiling.
I scribbled down quotes about life in a small notebook I carried with me: quotes about being alive and being in the moment. One quote I wrote down was, “Behind all the madness is you, your life, and what you want.” (Upon waking, I scribbled that down first; it seemed crucial that I remember this.)
I walked the streets of Eden, asphalt and concrete under my feet, feeling like there was no time left so all we had to do was make the most of it.
Golden-white fairy lights twinkled down from people’s balconies as the girl with the violet eyes and I walked. It was like being barraged with glimmering stars but not so bright. It was a warm glow, and it made us feel safe.
Suddenly, as dreams aren’t known for their smooth transitions, I stood in an intersection with cars coming at me from all directions, but they bounced off one another like bumper cars at an amusement park.
I wandered away from the cars and the loud noises of traffic into a construction site. It was after-hours and poorly-lit, but I begged for something to give me a clue that I was on the right track. As I walked, I remembered Christmases before I was homeless. I remembered my family and Christmas trees and the smell of anise. Home.
I walked along scaffolding and the horizontal beams and joists, but as I walked, the beams broke and I crashed through the floor to another level, then to another, then to another, continuously falling.
When I finally stopped crashing, I was in an assisted-living facility with my grandma. She was as beautiful as she was before the Alzheimer’s got the best of her, but even as beautiful as she looked, she still forgot who I was. We went into a dress-up bin and dressed up as other people. The girl with violet eyes was there, and all three of us pretended to be different people as we dressed up in their clothes: mink stoles, party dresses, three-piece suits with pocket watches on chains.
Because my first novel is about dreams and dream interpretation–and because I’m fascinated by dreams–I was thinking it might be fun to feature some of my dreams and possibly include their interpretations on my website.
I like the idea of having regular content, and while I do enjoy sharing my poetry and short fiction, I think it could be an interesting addition to my blog.
However, I know dream sequences can be boring to some people…that being said, could you please comment below (or like this post) if you would be interested in reading about my dreams?
I don’t think the descriptions would be as long-winded as the previous account, but I can’t swear that.
I already had one interesting dream last week about a girl with violet eyes and living on the streets of Eden.
As you may or may not know, the novel I am currently revising is about a young woman whose dreams begin to interfere with reality.
This idea germinated in my head for years and finally, I have been editing it and revising it so I can submit it to agents.
The reason this idea came to me is because I am enthralled by dreams. When I was twelve, I had a series of intense nightmares, and my brother bought me a book on dream interpretation. Ever since then, I have studied dreams and bought a lot more dream interpretation books; I even have an oracle deck, which features common dream symbols and their interpretations.
Here’s a dream I had a while ago. My friend Dlvan and I were talking about dreams this afternoon, and I remembered this one I had several months ago. At the time, I thought it was more like a vision than a dream, and I had a professional dream interpreter interpret it for me.
I thought some of you might be interested in reading about that dream.
Life was a whirlwind: people deserting me, families I used to work with shaming me, friends leaving and spreading false rumors, etc. My family was angry with me because I owed them money.
Interpretation:This represents my anxiety, what I am feeling presently.
Everywhere I turned, people were mad. This part was semi-lucid because I kept thinking, “I’m in bed. I’m going to remember this and write it down. I’m going to learn from this. I’m in bed. I can feel the night breeze.”
I ran up the stairs through a class in a lecture hall.
Interpretation: The upward path I was on represents success.
At the top of the staircase, there was a figure I could not see. He apologized for putting me through trials. I told him that I nearly died. I told him that people rejected me and hurt me in many ways.
I told him that he was responsible for things being messed up.
Interpretation:This figure represents a scapegoat, a person who takes the blame for the uncertainty I have in letting others down.
The lecture hall represents the feeling of being “lectured” about morality.
Furthermore, my explanation to this figure about nearly dying and people rejecting me represents that I cannot handle the rejection he is placing on me.
This figure represents a lesson I must learn.
The figure smiled, emanating a powerful, white glow. It was so luminous that I could not see beyond him. I ran through the light and entered a cafeteria.
A girl I knew when I was younger stood in the doorway. She was a friend who later became an adversary. I told her what I told the unseen figure, “I withstood all my trials and found that I am my own hero. I did it all on my own, and I’m still standing. I discovered I can do it on my own.”
Interpretation:The cafeteria represents a place of nourishment and nurturing. I am trying to please this person who stands in the doorway, Judgment. She does not represent Good nor Bad. She is my Experiences. Because of her, I have taught myself to be cautious.
She tells me though I can do it on my own, I don’t have to, then hands me a stone.
She tells me I must polish the stone. She did not give me any further instructions on how to polish the stone, simply that I must polish it.
Interpretation: Her lesson is twofold. She is both advising me and giving me permission to reach out to others. Though she has failed me in the past, others will not necessarily follow suit.
The stone represents Truth. How does one polish a stone? By tumbling it and removing the dirt.
What remains is Truth.
She told me that I will know when my task is done. She told me, “You will know your destiny after you polish the stone.” She also told me, “You saved him from his own noose.”
I held the rock as she faded from sight. As she faded, I heard her say, “Put it under your tongue.”
Interpretation: I saved him by telling him he needed to heal himself. Holding the rock represents me holding my truth. She is telling me to keep my truth a secret.
I saw a beautiful man like no one I had ever seen before. He emanated a radiance, and I felt my heart swell.
“Not this one,” a voice said.
I kept walking and arrived at a staircase that sloped and curved beyond my line of vision.
I walked down the stairs to arrive at a landing. From the landing I could see, the stairs led to a hallway with a door.
I began to choke on the rock under my tongue. I nearly swallowed the stone (the Truth) that I held in my mouth.
Interpretation: The voice is that of Judgment. She has returned to warn me that the first man was not the right man. The sloping staircase represents an unclear path. It could lead to a great success or a terrible downfall. The hall leading to a door represents the unknown as well. The door could be an escape out or a prison within. I do not enter the doorway, so, whether it is an escape or a prison is unknown.
As the stone tumbled around my mouth, a man with dove-white skin, dimples, and an amazing jawline ran up the stairs to meet me. He watched me gag on the stone, wanting to assist me but unable to help.
I finally coughed and choked up the stone (the Truth). It had tumbled into a glimmering tiger’s eye. The man too transformed but became harder to see. He was still beautiful, just harder to see.
Interpretation:I walked down to meet him, yet he walked up to meet me, but we still met in the middle. By walking down to meet him, this represents I must lose something to meet him.
He held in his hands a noose, and around his neck, he wore a placard that said his name.
The voice said, “He is the one.”
Interpretation:He has removed the noose (a leash), and by doing so, the man is finally free. Judgment has again presented itself to say he is the one, but something has changed. He is free, and of his free accord, he ran up the stairs to meet me and underwent his own transformation.
The dream is saying I must hold my truth until it is polished and clean. When the time is right, I must choose between speaking it-freeing it from my mouth-or swallowing it.
Wow, that is a powerful dream; I originally wrote about last September, and yet, as I rewrite it, I can remember the exact details of the dream as though I dreamt it last night. My main character has some fascinating dreams as well; some of them based on dreams I have had over the years, but none of her dreams are quite like this one.
If you like dreams, be sure to keep following my blog to hear more about my characters and my original debut novel.