It's been a long time since I had a real nightmare.
I'm almost thankful for it, like it happened just to let me know that something can still stir in me that kind of primal, whimpering terror. It was surprising, at least.
It started as a nice dream: I had gotten a big part in an important new movie and we were screening it, but while I'm watching it, I realize that I have no memory, at all, of having been there and shot the many scenes I was in. In fact, I didn't even remember finding out I had gotten the part. I followed my friend, who I had invited, around the place, but he kept saying he had to leave, that it was too weird, and I felt strange because people would stop me, and mention that they really liked the movie. Finally, I managed to stop him and tell him what was worrying me, about my memory, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth there was this man, standing right behind me, telling me that I needed to stop saying those things, and I turned and looked at him, and it was like every common sense I have shut off.
I know he was dressed in dark clothes, but he kept changing, right in front of me, so much that I couldn't describe him to you know. He didn't have a voice, so much as it was like a deep, bass echo. I tried to scream, and tell my friend what he was, but I could only heave and shake, while the distance between me and everyone else stretched out and that man stood over me from a huge distance, but felt like he was right there, ready to step on me and break every bone and pop every organ in my body, but I knew I would still be alive, and feel every second of it.
That was when I woke up, mid-heave, and since it had been so long since I had really had a nightmare, that I rolled over and went back to sleep pretty quickly, and started dreaming again. The problem was, I didn't remember that I had woken in the first place, and suddenly the fact that I was back at home and talking to my mother didn't bother me at all. She was asking me what was wrong, and I told her about my nightmare, and she turned away to look at something I pointed out to her, and I noticed that the skin on her arms was standing up much farther than it should have, like goosebumps that had overgrown and were reaching for me, and I backed away, and when she turned back to me her face had drawn really long, and her eyes had gone dark, and her mouth had distended and her teeth had become long and pointed and she jumped at me.
And then I woke up again.
It was early, and I had only slept four or five hours, but I couldn't convince myself to go back to sleep, despite how often my lids started to drift together.
I'm almost thankful for it, like it happened just to let me know that something can still stir in me that kind of primal, whimpering terror. It was surprising, at least.
It started as a nice dream: I had gotten a big part in an important new movie and we were screening it, but while I'm watching it, I realize that I have no memory, at all, of having been there and shot the many scenes I was in. In fact, I didn't even remember finding out I had gotten the part. I followed my friend, who I had invited, around the place, but he kept saying he had to leave, that it was too weird, and I felt strange because people would stop me, and mention that they really liked the movie. Finally, I managed to stop him and tell him what was worrying me, about my memory, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth there was this man, standing right behind me, telling me that I needed to stop saying those things, and I turned and looked at him, and it was like every common sense I have shut off.
I know he was dressed in dark clothes, but he kept changing, right in front of me, so much that I couldn't describe him to you know. He didn't have a voice, so much as it was like a deep, bass echo. I tried to scream, and tell my friend what he was, but I could only heave and shake, while the distance between me and everyone else stretched out and that man stood over me from a huge distance, but felt like he was right there, ready to step on me and break every bone and pop every organ in my body, but I knew I would still be alive, and feel every second of it.
That was when I woke up, mid-heave, and since it had been so long since I had really had a nightmare, that I rolled over and went back to sleep pretty quickly, and started dreaming again. The problem was, I didn't remember that I had woken in the first place, and suddenly the fact that I was back at home and talking to my mother didn't bother me at all. She was asking me what was wrong, and I told her about my nightmare, and she turned away to look at something I pointed out to her, and I noticed that the skin on her arms was standing up much farther than it should have, like goosebumps that had overgrown and were reaching for me, and I backed away, and when she turned back to me her face had drawn really long, and her eyes had gone dark, and her mouth had distended and her teeth had become long and pointed and she jumped at me.
And then I woke up again.
It was early, and I had only slept four or five hours, but I couldn't convince myself to go back to sleep, despite how often my lids started to drift together.