A folding chair in the middle of the basketball court by my house
sometimes, my life makes as much sense as that chair. no one understands.
This is a really long text post but this dream freaks me out the more I think about it. Can you guys tell me what you think?
Ever just have a dream? And you’re 100% sure that you’ve had a dream, but then you wake up and you just can’t remember what it was? Or, even more upsetting, you know for sure you dreamed. But, for whatever reason, you only remember bits and pieces of it. Trivial things. Like you remember something was blue or what hairstyle that person had. But it’s nothing important. The dream was trying to send you a message and you totally forgot it. Or maybe the message was so terrifying or strange. So incomprehensible that your brain just chose to redact it from memory.
Like, for example. I had a dream tonight. I know I did because I remember very few details. It was storming. Like wicked bad storming. Lightning pulsed in the sky every fifteen seconds and rain came down like the angels just left the tap on. That kind of storm. But it was weird, Even though the lightning was directly overhead, the only noise was the wind tearing at everything. And it was dark. Like midnight spilled ink on itself. But it was only 4 in the afternoon. Where I live, we only get storms like that every couple years but this is a dream so anything is possible.
I went up from my room in the basement to look out the side door of the house and saw an old woman crossing the soccer field across the street, heading straight for our house. I went upstairs to the kitchen and heard a radio. We don’t have a radio up there. Anyway, I head back to the door and start to shut it just as the old woman is about to knock. She retracts her arm like she’s irritated and I open the door. Like I was afraid of upsetting her. She asks me if she can come in and I open the door wordlessly. Now, when she comes in, her clothes are completely dry. Like, bone dry. I can almost hear the fabric crumbling like stale bread. And she smells like bleach. I motion for her to make her way downstairs and she turns on the television and turns it to the news. The signal on the tv is choppy and the reporters words come out in clipped phrases. I can barely catch what he’s saying. “The storm is getting worse. Much worse. For those of you caught in it, find shelter immediately.”
I glance away from the screen to look at the old woman and see that her clothes have become dark. Her pink coat is now damp. Like she was rained on. I didn’t question it but in the dream, I remember wanting to get away from this person. So I went upstairs to the kitchen. But it wasn’t MY kitchen. It was my fathers. I haven’t lived with my dad since I was fifteen. He’d killed himself after my parents had divorced and I hadn’t gone back to the house since the people came and cleared out all his possessions. But I remember the kitchen. It was dark in there, which made sense since it was partially underground, but I noticed there were dirty dishes. I went into the living room and I had managed to walk back into my current place of residence. I recognized the living room and dining area, but the ceiling had been raised higher and the windows were much larger. I also noticed it was sunny out. The sun had painted pink-peach lines on the walls from behind the curtains.
I saw my mom laying on the couch playing a game of scrabble on her kindle. My sister was in the recliner reading “It” by Stephen King. I asked mom where the dishsoap was since there were so many dishes and she only motioned with her hand to the spot under the sink. I turned and went back to the kitchen and I found myself at my dads again. I started the water and put on my mp3 player (a habit I’ve found makes housework go faster) and began my task. I remember that the song skipped frequently and changed in tone and pitch like it was being manipulated. But at the time, it seemed normal.
I don’t know when she got there, but the old lady was at my side like she’d been there the whole time. Her clothes were soaking wet at this point and she’s left a puddle on the floor where she stood. I smiled at her, taking one earbud out so she could talk. She talked on about things that, at the time, made no sense. Now they sort of do. She talked about how there’s often a rainstorm during a really dramatic part in a film. And how sometimes the protagonist or antagonist dies in battle and suddenly the storm stops. Being the media junkie that I am, I see her point.
It was around this time that it had begun to rain inside the kitchen. Raindrops fell into the soapy sink water and created more bubbles with every soft plip that they made. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the brightly lit living room had disappeared and instead there was a great wall of dark blue-green water. There were large beings swimming around in it, but I couldn’t make any of them out.
The woman had started sobbing. Great big tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks and into the water that was now knee deep. I did nothing to help her. I just kept on washing dishes. Scrubbing old bits of unnameable foodstuffs off of the plates and utensils. I glanced out the window above the sink and saw that the sun had started to shine, while inside thunder had began to roll through the small room.
I registered above the confusion and noise that the woman had started to say something, but I just can’t remember what is was even though she had screamed it at me. She had no color left in her eyes. It was like her iris and pupil became one thing. One inky black mass in a sea of off-white.
She’d grabbed me by the upper arms and began to shake me. I remember it hurt a lot. She screamed in my face. “The answer is right in front of you! It always has been!” Then there was a great thunderclap and her face shifted into something I don’t quite remember.
A great howling had started and all the water was suddenly gone, sucked out the doorway and the woman right along with it. It was quiet then, accept for the sound of singing birds.
Well, guys. There it is, My whole kooky dream laid out in one massive text post. I really want opinions on this okay? It was really freaky.
How are you guys doin’? :3
Sorry for not posting Headcanons n’ junk lately. My internet at home has been out for a few days. I’m staying at a hotel tonight so that’s how I’m able to post things/ answer asks/ reblog things now.
I’ve been working on a (guess what) Homestuck AU with a friend by the name of regdardin. I’ll be posting stuff about that soon once I get everything up and running.
What else… Oh! I’ll be going out of state July 5th. Where I’m going may or may not have internet. I’m banking on the hope that it does. :/
Anyhow! Just wanted to keep you guys posted.
Just took that massive God Tier quiz. I am, apparently, the Sylph of Mind. That’s actually really accurate.
Attention to my Followers
I know I’ve been seriously slacking in putting up head canons and that blows because it’s what you follow me for.
But today is fathers day and I sort of… *how to put this delicately* don’t have a father? Not one who’s alive anyway. I’m just sort of being depressed and tired and really busy with family stuff.
So I apologize! Your regularly scheduled DaveJohn/ DirkJake/ whatever else head canons will resume in broadcasting soon!
