I wake up like that quite often. My dreams are vivid, full of quickly changing scenarios, moving characters and gripping plots.
Dreams or should we call them nightmares – the one’s where I wake up with tears streaming down my face. Those dreams are full of sorrow, regret and resentment.
Nightmares where I am hurt by someone close to me. Someone that in real life is my dearest friend.
That was my last dream-nightmare. I woke up sobbing and inconsolable, trying to put behind me the web-thin curtain of a bad experience, bad dream.
Luckily, both dreams and nightmares alike – I forget them easily and quickly. Real life is just a flutter way from the neverland of dreams.
I don’t usually remember my dreams very vividly. Do you know this feeling when you’re dreaming and you take part in some event , this moment when you start to realize it is a dream, it ends abruptly and you wake up? When something like this happen I remember the dream for about a minute and then the memory quickly escapes from me quickly and lightly like wisps of summer cobwebs.
What I do remember about my dreams is that I always seem to be running. Chasing after something or being chased. I much prefer the former to the latter for obvious reasons. When I am a hunter I feel exhilarated, empowered and invigorated. When I am the prey I feel fear, dread and weakness.
From what I can recall I am usually trapped in the maze of high flats with indifferent facades. I follow the weaving way between the buildings seeking salvation and safety. There is a moment when amidst the empty streets I pass a man. A man that looks like nobody and like everybody at the same time. A man that is watching me when I pass him. He follows me with his dark, unfriendly eyes. I try to put as much distance between us as I’m able to.
Then suddenly I drop something. Something I didn’t even know that I held in hand in the first place. A key maybe? I look back and suddenly the man is no longer firmly rooted to his place but rather starts sprinting in my direction. That’s the moment in which shivers run down my spine and my pulse quickens. That’s the moment when the most primal instincts kick in and I know only one thing – run. I need to run as fast as I can, run far away, get away from the danger, get away from this man.
So I start running and I even manage to make a couple of quick steps.
But then unexpectedly my moves become constrained and I feel as if I’m getting stuck in the mud or tar. My moves are slower, my legs are rapidly dancing in the running motion, however my whole body seems to slow down, seems fixed to one spot. And it means that inevitably this man will catch up to me. In fact he is getting closer, so close I can feel his presence next to me. I will get hurt in a moment.
And then… I wake up. I shiver safe in my bed, in my bedroom, in my home. Safe. But still scared of the creation of my imagination.
Daily prompt from: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=621760814517910&set=a.599260846767907.1073741825.175634409130555&type=1&relevant_count=1.