I don't usually have dreams that really scare me. I've had dreams that have made me cry, I've had dreams where I've woken myself up because I was actually laughing out loud, and I've even had a dream in French once, and I don't speak a word.
Last night though, I had a dream that actually scared me, and I couldn't seem to get away from it. This is what happened.
You know all the black and white war photos you see in history classes and such from like, 9th grade on? Well, imagine (or don't, it's sad) that you're watching all those horrible things happen, but not with the noises that go along with them, just silence, and the occasional film noise. Allow me to explain the film noise part. It's like when you watch a movie and you can hear the film turning on the reels...you understand? I hope so...it's the sound that you hear if you stay through the very end of the credits and everything is black...except it wasn't all black, it's these terrible scenes. Everything from the holocaust to my imagination's version of the final battle between the Nephites and the Lamanites. All silent, all playing before my eyes, not like a movie, but like a play, with movie quality...in 3D. In the corner of the stage there's a little boy, also in black and white, and he's about 9, and wearing like, old English school-boy clothes. He's watching the same scenes, while moving closer to me. I can't see his face though, and somehow I know (don't you love how you just know things in dreams?) that if I see his face, that I will die, because this little boy is death embodied.
Well, finally, the boy has moved to the point where he's right in the center of my line of vision, and he starts to turn around really slowly, and I know what's happening, so I wake up, for real. I lay in bed for a few seconds scared to go back to sleep, but I manage to do it anyway.
A few minutes later, I'm in the same dream, and it's only a little rewound from the place that I was when I'd last woken up, and he was still moving towards me, and turning...
And that's how my night continued for a little while, I got this kind of morbid curiosity after a little while, where I wanted to know what he looked like, but I knew I would die if I saw him.
I never did see death, and I'm very much alive today, I'm just wondering one thing:
What on earth did I eat that made that horrid dream happen?
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Funny, I had one of the few dreams I can recall at all last night, too. It was a western. I was a cowboy, (not a cowgirl,) and it started out humorously, with a narrator explaining what I could do in my situation as a cowboy in the Old West, like an adventure game, but real. But somehow it turned into a war movie, too. It's rather fuzzy in my memory, now that it's afternoon, but there were three of us hunkered down behind a hill, tossing grenades and praying we weren't hit by the grenades the outlaws were chucking at us. No spectres of death, though. Thank heavens.
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