“What the hell was that?!” kind of dream

In the warped way time slips and drags out during REM sleep, I suddenly found myself sitting in a college lecture room like the ones I'd sat in on as a child while my Mother was working on her Limnology degree-- complete with desk-chairs that hadn't been upgraded since the mid 70's. Only, it wasn't a Limnology lecture. Whatever the Professor was discussing, the room was packed.

From where I sat, up high in the back, I could see over a hundred heads fixed on the mid-forties man pacing the "stage" in front of a dark, blank, blackboard.

All I could hear was the white noise of chatter, even though it didn't appear anyone was actually talking but the Professor. I don't like crowds of people, yet for some reason I was suddenly more interested in who was sitting on either side of me, noticing how dead-center I was in the middle.

As I glanced to my right to see a tall, handsome face a male voice from the other side of me speaks, "Look" he says, drawing my attention away from the guy on my right before I got a good look at him. The second man, the one on my left was also attractive, though shorter, and I got to look at him long enough to notice high arched brows and a grip-worthy thicket of brown hair rustled lazily atop his head.

What distracted me from inspecting his face further, was the way he jutted his arm out into my space with this rustic, tarnished gold looking glass, like you'd see from the Tall-Ship days. "Look-look." He said again insistently.  Something about his tone sounded excited yet curious and I could feel the man to my right watching. Immediately I got the impression they where friends and I too was curious what I'd see when I looked through the scope.

I took it from the left-guy's outreached hand and lifted it to my right eye without hesitation to peer through it. The room was quiet. Still, I couldn't hear the Professor and for a moment, I didn't care to. As I glanced through the tube of magnifying glasses, I saw the warbled image of the Professor from the thighs up and I struggled to follow him in his pacing.

It was during my wavering attempt to follow him that I noticed two red dots in the view, 11 O'clock and 5 O'clock in the circle of my vantage. I felt my brows furrow as the two dots moved. The higher one moved clockwise while the other moved counter-clockwise until they blipped into one dot.

Without warning, that blip jolted my head back and shifted what I was seeing. The vague impression of the blank chalkboard instantly became a vibrant star lit sky which filled my vision entirely. Though I could only see the ghost-like impression of the men on either side of me, I got the feeling of them lowering me to my back, though that too was warped. Feeling my back against the ground before I felt their hands on my shoulders.

I was screaming. Heart thundering like a Florida summer storm.

At first, I wasn't sure why I was screaming in the lecture room but in the blink of an eye the stars started to stretch like I was entering some film-makers version of hyperspace and I knew I was screaming because I couldn't breathe and I was trying to push the air out of my lungs so I could inhale a breath. Try as I might the screaming turned to a chattered gasping as if my lungs where already full (despite my screaming) and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't suck air.

As my view sped through space unknown to me, I could vaguely hear the two men talking. They too realized I couldn't breathe.

When I heard them confirm their understanding of my physical situation, I some how also knew the reason I couldn't breathe was because I was blazing through the vacuum of space and there wasn't time or air to inhale.

What the fuck?!

A thought my mind belted with the desperation for air that seemed as feeble as trying to understand what was happening to me. Not even a second later I see the ghost-like figure of the man on my right, towering over me in a kneel. He has both translucent hands clasped together with his fingers folded over his knuckles. The clasp of his hands thusly raised high above his head as he tells his friend, "I have to."

No sooner than I think, Have to what?  It occurs to me what he's about to do and I'm pinned to the floor by the conscious velocity of my trek through space, unable to stop him. With the decent of his arms he became more solid to my eyes and the space I was flying through began to fade out of focus like the change in scene on a TV show.

When his clasped hands hit my sternum I jolted up into a sitting position in the classroom to find it empty and both men kneeling on either side with curious worry in their eyes, only caught as I looked to each of them in panic and skimpered back shouting, "What the hell was that?!"

As the arch of my back hit a cold wall I felt a hand wedged between my head and whatever little shelf I would have smacked my head on. Still waiting for an answer I look to the right where the man who's face I hadn't quite seen yet, was still holding the back of my head like he didn't want me to get hurt.

Once more I found myself unable to clearly see his face as reality came crashing in with my bewilderment.

I wasn't in the classroom anymore, I was in my bed, my mind grasping at the scene I'd just left, whilst trying to figure out why I woke up.

Oh.. I had to use the loo. Not the usual way my dreaming mind wakes me to relieve my bladder but I wasn't going to deny my body the need. In a slumber-drunk state I shuffled to the bathroom across the hall, did my business and rushed back to bed. I don't even remember if I bothered to flush, though I do know it was dark outside, and in my room, so I was safe to crash back into my mind and hope it knew how to pick up where I left off. 

Dreams like that one can't be forced.

Hours passed.

The only fragment I remember was turning a dark concrete corner to see a blank slate-gray door open as the man who'd been on my right previously walked out of it and right up to me like he was expecting me.

"Ready to do it again?" He asked with a smirk, near enough to me to make me crane my neck back to look at his face.

Curly brown hair, tight, fluffy, and as respectably long and lazily ordered as his friend, or where they brothers? As I got to his hazel-green eyes I noticed the smile in them that was no-doubt still on his lips but when I tried to look I was sucked out of my dream again.

"Damn it." I mumbled out loud, laying in my bed at the bits of daylight telling me I needed to get up and do human stuff.

I write this, because I hope to get the conclusion to this dream, or some kind of answers... besides the usual underlying impression I'm about to go into an apocalyptic war...

|| another_proser ||