Okay, first off, if you clicked on this from Twitter, thank you. No, don’t worry, this won’t be a diatribe against the 140-character universe (I enjoy having an account there). What I want to share in this post is something that I would normally share on Twitter, but the nuance of trying to make it fit within 140 characters would confuse even me. Don’t worry too much, this will be a quick post… but it will also be rated “R” (“under 17 not admitted without parent or adult guardian”). Okay, here goes…
What I’m hoping to get some thoughts on from all you amateur dream analysts is this creepy dream… okay, nightmare I had last night. This was a real dream, by the way. What I recall from it is going into a nice house in a nice neighborhood with my sisters. The house had 2 floors (at least), spacious rooms (mostly unfurnished), an elegant staircase… and images of creepy monsters. I mean, really scary, blood-curdling figures. Paintings of monsters that were right out of horror movies and were posted in almost every single room of this house. (I would say these paintings appeared to be done up in real blood, but I don’t want to freak you out.)
Naturally, upon seeing these monster images in this dream, I was creeping out. Yes, my sisters had looks of concern on their faces, but I wasn’t as calm and collected as they were. I felt shivers running down my spine and I was breaking out in cold sweats. I really started creeping out when these monster paintings suddenly started to appear on the floors we were walking on. Yeah, at this point I was tip-toeing all around the house. I want to recall my sisters in this dream found their way out of the house, but I couldn’t; I was running up and down every floor searching for an exit I couldn’t find.
At one point, I was making a turn around the staircase bannister when suddenly… a monster from one of the paintings was standing in my path, as if it leaped out from the painting. And it started to chase me. Naturally, I started to run in the other direction, but the monster was gaining speed. It started grabbing at me from behind. Knowing very little in the way of martial arts, I responded by delivering my own flails and kicks. And I was delivering a round of kicks when…
I suddenly woke up. *whew* And I realized I was moving my right leg around as if I was about to deliver another kick to this monster. Well, first thing I thought of was I was glad this dream was over with. Secondly, I had self-proof that I have a tendency to toss and turn when I’m sleeping, which would probably serve as a warning to any future lover of mine. The next things I thought of were what time it was (“Only 12:45 in the morning?”), that I had a need to go to the bathroom (sorry for getting deep there), and why it was starting to rumble thunder outside (“Oh, geez, is this storm going to keep me up all night?”).
One other thought I had: I remembered coming across something on the internet Sunday afternoon about Amityville, New York, which led me to something about the real-life(?) horror story that played out in an elegant house there. So, before drifting back to sleep, I resolved never to bone up on creepy horror stories in supposedly idyllic places on an idyllic summer afternoon.
Luckily after all of this, I did manage to go back to sleep… only to be reawakened by another big early morning storm that swept through Madison. So, please pardon me if I have an uncontrollable fit of yawning all day; believe me, it was a rough night.
So, all you amateur dream analysts, was I right in presuming my own Amityville Horror dream was the result of coming across a horror story I shouldn’t have?