Two of my friends (whom I will call Jacob and Billy) were visiting my house. They were trying to convince me to join them in playing a persistent game that involved "building the ultimate weapon." They showed me the website; it was very poorly done and showed that you start the game by choosing one of twelve base mythical creatures with strange named like "Bumblebuzz in Purple". They were illustrated by incredibly bad CG images. I wasn't interested in spite of their constant insistence.
Jacob and Billy donned black hoods and cloaks and went to the top of a hill with a bunch of other players, similarly dressed. There was a large oak tree in the center of the hill with black bark and no leaves. I watched their odd chanting for a bit, then left.
I went to a big lodge with a massive porch that went out onto a lake. It was in the height of summer but everyone on the porch seemed to be getting ready for snow sports like alpine skiing. They all struck me as childish and juvenile. I went down the porch steps to the water and talked to the boat man, a hideously ugly but sweet old man who had a returned dislike for the porch kids.
Then three girls came down from the porch and started harassing the boat man. I'll go easy on details; suffice it to say they framed him for doing unspeakable things. The boat man pushed me into the water to protect me from implication and I swam away, backwards and facing up but about ten feet under the clear green water. I saw the boat man hauled away in chains with the girls still pointing and sobbing.
I got out the other side of the lake into a maze of boulders, rubble, and hedges. For several minutes I hid from tourists who were walking through the area taking pictures. I saw a young couple walking hand in hand toward where I was hiding; I hastily scaled a brick wall and flung myself into a crater on the other side. Then I looked up and saw that the girl had noticed me. We made eye contact and for a tense instant I thought she would shout out my position. But she just kept walking.
Later I found myself in a large open log building in the center of a town. Two of my friends (I don't remember recognizing them specifically) were getting married but lamented the lack of a minister. I said I'd help. Somehow I summoned one. The minister entered in authentic 1700s garb with a crude 4-foot wooden cross in one hand and a massive Bible in the other. He looked very young - barely older than me.
I got a sinking feeling that what had happened to the boat man was about to happen to him. I had helped in the plot. I felt awful. The minister began the ceremony. Suddenly two policemen in sky blue uniforms burst into the room and shouted: "Freeze!" I looked around, trying to confirm who they were looking at. They both drew guns and put them in my face. I was handcuffed and hauled out the building; there was laughter inside. I was thrown down onto the curb and looked up to see writing on the side of the squad car, which said something like: "Scare your friends for great fun!" I realized these weren't real cops; they were just playing around.
This is so illegal, I thought; but I tried to play along.
There was a male cop and a female cop; the male had a huge black mustache. "Don't worry," he said, fake-kicking me in the groin. "We're just putting on a show for your friends inside."
I heard more laughter in the log building; apparently everyone thought this was hysterical. The male cop raised his baton and swung down toward me, stopping an inch from my head. I reacted appropriately. Then I felt a spasm of panic and looked up at the squad car to see my own blood splashed against it. What had been a joke had suddenly become very, very real. I was handcuffed on the sidewalk and about to be beaten to a pulp while my friends watched and laughed, thinking it was all a joke.
Before it became a nightmare, I woke.
Nightmare: The White Snake
I was in a large hotel helping a handful of people escape, including my youngest brother Jesse. After they escaped I would never see them again; I had to stay in the hotel and help other people. I felt that many of the escapees were unprepared for the harsh realities beyond, so I was barraging them with advice.
We went to where an elevator would normally be; instead there was just a hole in the floor that dropped down one level. This was a secret passageway. We were nearly out of the hotel. We started walking down the hall when we saw someone in one of the rooms (the door was open). We all went in. It was a slightly overweight latina woman in her fifties lying on a cheap gurney. There were two nurses tending to her. In the dream, this person was my mother.
The gurney was a complex business with many moving parts. She complained about how this made her uncomfortable. I spent several minutes following her increasingly frustrated directions on how to fix the gurney to make it more comfortable. Then I kissed her hand and we all ran out.
As we approached the exit, the dream transitioned suddenly and I became a spectator to something so horrifying that I clawed my way back to consciousness and lay panting in the dark for an hour, battling sleep lest I see it again. It is emotionally difficult for me to describe it. I should note that I have a mild phobia of snakes.
This is what I saw:
A group of people much like the ones I had helped escape (none of whom I recognized) had just finished a long, messy car wash at a gas station. There were soap suds everywhere, about a foot thick on the ground. They were packing up to leave in an old white sedan. As a practical joke, they had put a ten-foot black snake on the roof of the station over the pumps. There was a square hole in the top much like the secret escape in the hotel, and the snake had poked its head down and scared one of the kids. They all laughed and got out a long, cylindrical canvas bag. Then they coaxed the snake into it and loaded it into the car.
As they were loading, I saw something move in the suds. It was another snake. Ghastly white coils rose and tensed; the snake's head was still hidden but I saw that it was at least fifty feet long, as thick as a human head. It was coiled and kinked like a garden hose that hasn't been put away. For an instant it just sat coiled, obviously riled by the laughing kids. Then, one of the coils leapt out and wrapped around a kid near the trunk, tethering her to a telephone pole and crushing her to death. This happened so fast I didn't realize it had happened until it was over. The other kids were still loading into the car, oblivious. Another coil struck the kid getting into the passenger side; the impact of the blow killed him instantly.
A third kid loading in behind the passenger door turned to look - not panicked or surprised, just curious. Another coil crushed his right shoulder against the door. The kid didn't register pain. He just calmly reached into his pocket as the snake finally reared its head. It had the face of a cobra, but completely white with gleaming red eyes. The snake opened its mouth and hissed as the kid pulled out a small, ancient-looking knife with his left hand and held it up like a sword. Then the snake snapped its jaws shut on the kid but the knife went back into its throat. At that point I was finally able to awaken.
We went to where an elevator would normally be; instead there was just a hole in the floor that dropped down one level. This was a secret passageway. We were nearly out of the hotel. We started walking down the hall when we saw someone in one of the rooms (the door was open). We all went in. It was a slightly overweight latina woman in her fifties lying on a cheap gurney. There were two nurses tending to her. In the dream, this person was my mother.
The gurney was a complex business with many moving parts. She complained about how this made her uncomfortable. I spent several minutes following her increasingly frustrated directions on how to fix the gurney to make it more comfortable. Then I kissed her hand and we all ran out.
As we approached the exit, the dream transitioned suddenly and I became a spectator to something so horrifying that I clawed my way back to consciousness and lay panting in the dark for an hour, battling sleep lest I see it again. It is emotionally difficult for me to describe it. I should note that I have a mild phobia of snakes.
This is what I saw:
A group of people much like the ones I had helped escape (none of whom I recognized) had just finished a long, messy car wash at a gas station. There were soap suds everywhere, about a foot thick on the ground. They were packing up to leave in an old white sedan. As a practical joke, they had put a ten-foot black snake on the roof of the station over the pumps. There was a square hole in the top much like the secret escape in the hotel, and the snake had poked its head down and scared one of the kids. They all laughed and got out a long, cylindrical canvas bag. Then they coaxed the snake into it and loaded it into the car.
As they were loading, I saw something move in the suds. It was another snake. Ghastly white coils rose and tensed; the snake's head was still hidden but I saw that it was at least fifty feet long, as thick as a human head. It was coiled and kinked like a garden hose that hasn't been put away. For an instant it just sat coiled, obviously riled by the laughing kids. Then, one of the coils leapt out and wrapped around a kid near the trunk, tethering her to a telephone pole and crushing her to death. This happened so fast I didn't realize it had happened until it was over. The other kids were still loading into the car, oblivious. Another coil struck the kid getting into the passenger side; the impact of the blow killed him instantly.
A third kid loading in behind the passenger door turned to look - not panicked or surprised, just curious. Another coil crushed his right shoulder against the door. The kid didn't register pain. He just calmly reached into his pocket as the snake finally reared its head. It had the face of a cobra, but completely white with gleaming red eyes. The snake opened its mouth and hissed as the kid pulled out a small, ancient-looking knife with his left hand and held it up like a sword. Then the snake snapped its jaws shut on the kid but the knife went back into its throat. At that point I was finally able to awaken.
The Missing Goat
I was a goat farmer and eight of my goats were missing. They had appeared in a city in southern Mexico so I went down there with a few of my friends and family to retrieve them.
We went through the slums of the city rounding them up until we had all but the last two goats. There was a chain link fence running along the western end of the slums; we were standing in the north corner at the end of the fence and we saw the last two goats, Rodrigo and Oye, in the other. But then soldiers equipped as if from the 1800s and wearing dark blue uniforms and fez hats burst out of nowhere and cornered us. We ran a block back into the city and spread out, agreeing to meet up the next day to find a solution.
I burrowed into some garbage and slept.
I have always believed that you can learn a lot about a civilization by watching it wake up. I sat for awhile in the trash the next morning and watched the townspeople begin their morning rituals. Squalid poverty and trust were the hallmarks of the town. Eventually a friend showed up eating a McDonald's hash brown. I wanted to eat too but going into a restaurant seemed risky.
We all ended up in big circular booth in a Denny's, but the only part of the Denny's was that booth, and it was in the north-west corner of the city again. We knew the soldiers would come back but we were too busy talking and planning. I don't fully remember who was there except for one friend I've been interacting with a lot in conscious life lately - I'll call her Penny - and a friend I haven't seen for many years named Jordan. I think Cody and Logan were there too, at least.
At some point there was a disagreement and one of the men at the table said the only way to settle it was by acting it out. I was wearing a cape and 3 scarves but no pants, I was recruited to play one of the characters in the skit and I had to remove the cape which was more awkward for other people than me. While we were acting things out (the leader of the group was wearing a top hat), the soldiers came back along with a judge.
I was told to prove that the goats were mine, or else we'd be executed for goat theft. I walked halfway down the chain link and called to Oye but he was scared of all the people and didn't come. We were forced to flee the soldiers again, scattering into the city. I went onto a roof and started a small fire. Penny showed up looking very cold. I gave her my blanket, and we slept in what felt like a ceremonially significant way: on our sides facing each other about a foot apart, with our feet pointed different directions.
Next morning, a few local children had found us. They started pelting us with veggies because we were goat thieves until we told them we were innocent and the goats had been scared. We had them spread the word throughout the town that we were innocent. Then I climbed down the other side of the fence (outside the city). The other goats joined me. I snuck along the outside, avoiding the guards, and reclaimed Rodrigo and Oye.
Eventually I found myself looking at a giant Risk board, where the male leader of the group (who was wearing the top hat) apparently needed to settle another dispute concerning the goats before we could all go home. This was to be a very high-stakes game. There were 5 continents on the board, each marked by a giant square with no countries within and brightly colored lines pointing to other continents. The biggest was in the center, it was just a big neon green square labeled NORTH AMERICA AND THE FOUR CORNERS.
There was some reluctance about playing, I felt that the game needed balancing before we could even talk about using it to settle our differences. Then I awoke.
We went through the slums of the city rounding them up until we had all but the last two goats. There was a chain link fence running along the western end of the slums; we were standing in the north corner at the end of the fence and we saw the last two goats, Rodrigo and Oye, in the other. But then soldiers equipped as if from the 1800s and wearing dark blue uniforms and fez hats burst out of nowhere and cornered us. We ran a block back into the city and spread out, agreeing to meet up the next day to find a solution.
I burrowed into some garbage and slept.
I have always believed that you can learn a lot about a civilization by watching it wake up. I sat for awhile in the trash the next morning and watched the townspeople begin their morning rituals. Squalid poverty and trust were the hallmarks of the town. Eventually a friend showed up eating a McDonald's hash brown. I wanted to eat too but going into a restaurant seemed risky.
We all ended up in big circular booth in a Denny's, but the only part of the Denny's was that booth, and it was in the north-west corner of the city again. We knew the soldiers would come back but we were too busy talking and planning. I don't fully remember who was there except for one friend I've been interacting with a lot in conscious life lately - I'll call her Penny - and a friend I haven't seen for many years named Jordan. I think Cody and Logan were there too, at least.
At some point there was a disagreement and one of the men at the table said the only way to settle it was by acting it out. I was wearing a cape and 3 scarves but no pants, I was recruited to play one of the characters in the skit and I had to remove the cape which was more awkward for other people than me. While we were acting things out (the leader of the group was wearing a top hat), the soldiers came back along with a judge.
I was told to prove that the goats were mine, or else we'd be executed for goat theft. I walked halfway down the chain link and called to Oye but he was scared of all the people and didn't come. We were forced to flee the soldiers again, scattering into the city. I went onto a roof and started a small fire. Penny showed up looking very cold. I gave her my blanket, and we slept in what felt like a ceremonially significant way: on our sides facing each other about a foot apart, with our feet pointed different directions.
Next morning, a few local children had found us. They started pelting us with veggies because we were goat thieves until we told them we were innocent and the goats had been scared. We had them spread the word throughout the town that we were innocent. Then I climbed down the other side of the fence (outside the city). The other goats joined me. I snuck along the outside, avoiding the guards, and reclaimed Rodrigo and Oye.
Eventually I found myself looking at a giant Risk board, where the male leader of the group (who was wearing the top hat) apparently needed to settle another dispute concerning the goats before we could all go home. This was to be a very high-stakes game. There were 5 continents on the board, each marked by a giant square with no countries within and brightly colored lines pointing to other continents. The biggest was in the center, it was just a big neon green square labeled NORTH AMERICA AND THE FOUR CORNERS.
There was some reluctance about playing, I felt that the game needed balancing before we could even talk about using it to settle our differences. Then I awoke.
Nightmare: Crash and Guilt
I was climbing on a heavily forested mountain wearing converses. The rest of my family was with me but I was in the back. The soles of my shoes were wearing thin and rocks were poking through into my feet. I was afraid I would twist an ankle and hit myself for not wearing hiking boots.
Another family was also hiking - they were five minutes behind us - and we stopped about halfway up the mountain so they could catch up. There was a shack that looked like a bus stop from Far Cry 2, and parked outside it was a white '56 Cadillac Convertible. My father told me to drive on ahead. This seemed inadvisable considering the narrowness and steepness of the trail but I agreed. I climbed in; my father and Cody showed me how to use a stick shift. I don't actually know how; here's how it worked in the dream.
There were three pedals; from left to right there were clutch, brake, and accelerator. Just under the steering wheel was a cord with a handle attached, like the cord you pull to start a lawnmower. I pushed the clutch petal and put the car in 1st gear, then yanked the cord and tapped the accelerator to start.
I drove around the bend tentatively, trying to get the feel of a stick shift and excited to be driving such a classy car. Just over the hill, the road turned into what was basically a roller coaster. There were 30 degree inclines; I tromped the brakes but they didn't do enough. I tried to swerve left and right to slow the car a bit but it kept gaining speed; whizzing by trees on every side. I went all the way down the mountain and out into a meadowy area.
The road curved left and I went past a farm house that reminded me of one near where I go contra dancing in Placerville. Then the road ended abruptly up ahead in a massive one-story chicken coop which was in poor condition but full of chickens. I swerved left but the car skidded sideways and I broadsided the coop, sending boards flying. I heard birds clucking disapprovingly inside but I couldn't see any.
The engine had died; I frantically restarted it and started driving away. The car was dented on the outside and the accelerator pedal was shredded, but the coop had taken the worst of it. I drove up the mountain and a crushing sense of guilt came over me; I wanted so badly to go back and confess and make things right but I was just driving away (with much more control now). I passed two men walking down off the mountain. We didn't say anything but I knew they owned the coop. They might be able to put two and two together and know I had done it. But I drove on and the guilt became overwhelming - and that is why it became a nightmare.
I got to the top of the mountain. The other family hadn't arrived yet. Cody saw the damage and asked what had happened. Then I awoke, and spent the next hour wondering why I hadn't thought to apply the hand brake.
Another family was also hiking - they were five minutes behind us - and we stopped about halfway up the mountain so they could catch up. There was a shack that looked like a bus stop from Far Cry 2, and parked outside it was a white '56 Cadillac Convertible. My father told me to drive on ahead. This seemed inadvisable considering the narrowness and steepness of the trail but I agreed. I climbed in; my father and Cody showed me how to use a stick shift. I don't actually know how; here's how it worked in the dream.
There were three pedals; from left to right there were clutch, brake, and accelerator. Just under the steering wheel was a cord with a handle attached, like the cord you pull to start a lawnmower. I pushed the clutch petal and put the car in 1st gear, then yanked the cord and tapped the accelerator to start.
I drove around the bend tentatively, trying to get the feel of a stick shift and excited to be driving such a classy car. Just over the hill, the road turned into what was basically a roller coaster. There were 30 degree inclines; I tromped the brakes but they didn't do enough. I tried to swerve left and right to slow the car a bit but it kept gaining speed; whizzing by trees on every side. I went all the way down the mountain and out into a meadowy area.
The road curved left and I went past a farm house that reminded me of one near where I go contra dancing in Placerville. Then the road ended abruptly up ahead in a massive one-story chicken coop which was in poor condition but full of chickens. I swerved left but the car skidded sideways and I broadsided the coop, sending boards flying. I heard birds clucking disapprovingly inside but I couldn't see any.
The engine had died; I frantically restarted it and started driving away. The car was dented on the outside and the accelerator pedal was shredded, but the coop had taken the worst of it. I drove up the mountain and a crushing sense of guilt came over me; I wanted so badly to go back and confess and make things right but I was just driving away (with much more control now). I passed two men walking down off the mountain. We didn't say anything but I knew they owned the coop. They might be able to put two and two together and know I had done it. But I drove on and the guilt became overwhelming - and that is why it became a nightmare.
I got to the top of the mountain. The other family hadn't arrived yet. Cody saw the damage and asked what had happened. Then I awoke, and spent the next hour wondering why I hadn't thought to apply the hand brake.