There is a weird neighborhood with two houses, fenced in with a great white wall and nothing beyond the wall but desert. Inside of the wall the houses have a yard but the grass is a reddish yellow and the little trees are orange and blowing in the wind. There is a family who lives in the one house and from this part the facts become less clear.
I think I remember the two girls who live in the house getting grounded and scrolling through some futuristic strand of light with house or clothing items. I think I can remember the father telling one of them not to go beyond the wall and their house was all bendy and odd looking.
Other than that, my mom woke me up and I never got to continue it. It wasn't a bad dream, just wacky and I wish someone deam doctor would tell me how it formed. Before bed I read the books Lockwood and co. Worked on some alliteration for the contest (Want to help me, list some A words, thank you :) ), and before that I sang to a country song. I also thought of the movie Home. Oh and I watched Good witch. Any of those from this dream? I don't think so.
Horror or...Just Weird?
An old man held out the canteen in his wrinkled hand, I didn't need to ask what it contained. The cloudy blue vape juice inside was a perfect dietary supplement, of course. I took my own swig upon the direction being spoken by him, not thinking twice, nor even once.
Walking to a lonesome chair in my driveway, I see the event--a glorious wedding. I remember this from outside the dream, once my aunt had a wedding on my property. Though, I admit, it was not held in the driveway. Soon more chairs sat in rows filled by friends and family, and everyone was exploding with anticipation for the bride.
I feel myself shifting, this part of the dream was always the worst because the chaos was building rather rapidly. An opaque vehicle pulled into the now new scene with the wedding items all gone, and driveway nearly empty. My heart shook and skipped a beat as I observe the vape juice drinker re-enter my minds work. Stepping out of the car, he gave me an odd grin.
Wedding was on again! Chairs re-aligned themselves in the driveway for the show that no one knew would be so messy. Within moments, the chairs are refilled and taken up by guests. Without hesitation the 'old vape juice guy' pushed a gun to the brides father's lips; such an odd looking gun. Shrieks of panic came from the crowd loudly as the old man pulled the trigger.
Maybe I can skip this part if I keep my eyes shut, I tell myself to at least try.
No matter how long I shut my eyes, the scene would still play on when I opened them for a peek. It was a movie only for my unwilling green eyes to witness. The gun was indeed not one which used ammo, to my relief, but rather one filled with bags. The job of the bags though, was a bit more disturbing than the use of bullets. As the loud bang went off, the bags shot inside of the victims body, bagging him up. The plastic exited his lips containing his organs in neatly tied bags. Next, the lifeless body pixelated to dust and I knew I was next.
Two of my Wackier Dreams
Dream One - At our house, there were many kids our own age. I was playing a 2-person game with Scott, and others would come into the bedroom to watch. They talked a little, quietly. When we were through, we went into the living room crowded with a lot more kids. I saw that Rachel Corny was there for a while.
My mum came to me and said, “What did you do to your brother’s paper?
“You sabotaged his work. Rachel saw it, and you were the only one who could’ve done it.” This was not true!
Workers had brought in babies lined in rows in their highchairs. These people were going along the rows, feeding them, all of whom had special needs, products such as applesauce and the like. Then they made artwork by sticking clumped, cold cereal onto applesauce. I saw small globs on our pantry floor. But when I touched one, it fell apart. I wasn’t sure if it’d been their snack or their craft project. There was a small sack of edible sculptures drying.
The workers told us, “Everyone, take off your pants and dance around.” So we all did, leaving on our skivvies, of course.
Just then, I saw a Rachel there. She asked what I’d done to my brother’s writing, and I said, “Oh, I thought it was the other Rachel that was here.” (I asked my mum, who was up a level from where we were, in the loft, who the pastor’s daughter was. Not the older nor the younger, the middle one. She had trouble hearing me or understanding. I could tell she was distracted.)
I said, “Look, I didn’t harm anything. It was a printing problem. The way the colours ran, they caused a blur. I’ll show you.” I found evidently the exact part she’d been so hot about. Or maybe it’d happened repeatedly. I told her, “I’ve even seen words with characters blurry like this in printed books.” (She knew I was right and so said nothing.)
That night we went to a large building where people were passing out clothing for costuming and scant props. Black and white posters cheaply made of newsprint had pictures, printed depictions of actors. There I was in my panties, twirling, but the camera must've been a great one. I was not blurred at all. The colour of my panties exactly matched that of my skin, so it appeared I was wearing nothing below. I still had the same pair on, so I showed people standing there that there was a darker trim edging the outer part. Yet the outline hadn’t shown up! Maybe the photographer was just far enough away that the delineation wasn’t apparent. They said, “you'd better go downstairs to get ready”.
The entire show would be impromptu. We had a role and we were to wax eloquent. The prep was going full steam ahead. My mum was going to be in it, as were my sons.
A woman got a phone call on her mobile. Everyone heard her retort, “What did you say?!”” She was a jolly sort, so this was highly arousing, matched with her bleak look of utter severity. The mood had shifted enormously. She shouted, “Get ready! There’s to be an explosion!” We looked out, but nothing happened. Then the fire erupted in burst upon burst. The blasts were getting nearer. A substation was going up.
Next the entire building was hit. We knew by the huge thud that superseded the shockwave of vibration that reverberated. I ran out toward the boys’ dressing room, shouting the names of my sons, “ Elliot! Zeke! Come now!! We’ve got to go!”
My mother was up by the ticket booth, asking about the performance. She’d been given free tix. They were saying there would be no show. I looked in her bag where she had several! I asked, “How many did you take?” She said, “Well, we are in a group of friends who go together to these …’ I stopped her with my glare! There must’ve been 6 or 8 or more.
I was telling the man in charge of wardrobe that I was leaving and would try to get our costuming back. He looked very miffed and said, “Well, how will you be able to!?” It was a traveling show, after all. I went below to take off his precious pants and put on my own.
The strange thing about the explosions was that there was not much going on in the entire county, so why would it be targeted? It seemed the centre of nothingness.
Dream Two - There were so many preparations to be made. There would be a big shindig tomorrow, and relations were arriving in advance of the big event.
I was driving home through rainlaced roads. Though it was night, there were streetlights making the way bright as day. A dog was traipsing ahead of me up the deserted roadway, and I didn't want to scare or hurt it so I kept a slow pace just behind. I threw out the newspaper in its plastic bag. I’d have to retrieve it later, so I made a mental note of where it landed.
My outfit would be stunning. It had a bra that extended out around the edging of the bodice. Not only was this dress strapless, it was backless, too. My armpits would need shaving to pull this one off. The frilly lace of the bra was delicate and there was soft padding so scrumptious I felt no one would mind that it added a bit of amplitude to my bosom.
On the day of the party, we went to the huge grocer’s store where it would be held. Employees there had decorations ready for us to place around. Since they were clocked in, they could help only so much with our private party. The shopping baskets were a welcome bonus.
My uncle on the maternal side and his wife arrived; or was this an ex boyfriend? It’d been so long, I couldn’t tell. It looked more like the ex; but he had no significant other, so I was tres’ perplexed. They got there very early and were placed into their stalls on tall immovable straw- weave chairs at a high, tiny round table. It would be a long night for them. I saw the man looking at me, and he asked where my husband was. “Oh, he’ll not be coming to this. This isn’t his thing,” I said perfunctorily.
A younger cousin from the paternal side was there with her folks. Though grown, she seemed a giddy girl still. Mom had a special strapless bra arranged for her to wear and helped her into it. It had soft roundish parts like squishy putty-filled eggs that were placed into each cup just as it was being put on. These filled out the space, giving an elegant line. There were 2 little orbs for each cup. Mum got them in just so and quickly put the contraption on the young woman, fastening it in back hastily, lest the whole thing dropped or parts fell out. I could not contain my jealousy. Mum and I had left to come here, but my mum had not and would not let me return for my fine dress. I was to be stuck wearing a drab, everyday plaid blouse with long sleeves that no one would give a second glance. My cheeks burned at being treated like a child with no free will again.
I was lying there. On a stainless steel counter. I don't usually see myself in dreams, but there I was. And then a woman walked in. She was quite stunning really. A round face with long hair that looked like it would be silky to the touch. Ruby lips and sapphire eyes. Sapphires like the one adorning her golden crown. Royalty, I assumed. She didn't speak, but walked toward me. And though she had a gentle presence, what she was holding in her hand sent a shiver through my body. Her slender fingers were grasping a pair of long, brilliantly silver scissors. She walked closer and lifted my head up. I was frozen, like a doll would be. And she started cutting off my brown hair. The locks fell into a china bowl I didn't even realize was there. And a man walked in. I didn't recognise him at first, but after a moment I remembered the face. He walked over to a stove next to the counter I was on. The princess handed him the china bowl full of hair, long pink gown trailing behind her. The man boiled water. The hair was tossed into the bubbling liquid. Some of this and some of that, and it was done. Gordon Ramsay had turned my hair into spaghetti. (It was actually a really scary dream...)