That Night I Had The Strangest Dream..... That night I had the strangest dream.... I was walking. The background was unrecognizable. All I knew was that it was dark, meaning it was most likely night unless I was in some closed naturally dark place like a basement. But soon I realized I wasn’t in a basement but outside, and it was indeed night. My shoes crunched underneath; I was walking on a gravel strip of some sort. It was freezing out as it was, as still as a statue, but adding to the angry gusts of wind, I was literally dying to my own cube of ice where I would be entrapped in the middle like a bug in the middle of an amber piece. I looked wildly around, and got a better picture of where I was. Around me, I could make out the sketch of bushes and tress. Up in the sky, I began to make out some faint stars, but there was no moon, not even a crescent sliver. It was out of my vision I guessed, probably on the other side of the sky though I didn’t bother turning around to check. I could sense it; feel it crawling like a centipede along the back of my spine. I continued walking, shivering and looking around. I seemed to be in a forest of some sort. The woods. After another inspection, I confirmed my first inkling. I was in a forest of some sort. Not reacting to that conclusion in any particular way, I continued walking. Suddenly, there was a loud rustling in the bushes beside me and I looked that way. When I had looked, everything was still. Confused, I looked up to the sky and saw an owl flying by, flapping its long, feathery wings, hooting. Then it was gone. All of a sudden—I don’t know what it was that made me feel this way—I was strongly compelled to turn around and look at the sky behind me, where the moon supposedly was. But shining high in the sky, in replace of the moon, was a large, shimmering silver disc. I stared at it as it began rotating and rotating closer and closer to me until it was right above my head, about 20 feet away. I was paralyzed to my spot. I stopped breathing and just stared. A loud clanging, dawnging sound and the next thing I knew was bright, blinding white. All I saw was white, white, white…. When the whiteness somewhat cleared, with fear rushing through my heart, I saw the faint sketch of people….thing…beings of some sort, standing over me. Their skin was a dark peach and their heads were inhumanly large. It came to me, almost popping my heart. Night. In the woods. The big, shiny silver disc. In the sky. Coming down at me. The giant clanging, gawnging sound. The blinding white light. The dark peach colored skin. The inhumanly large heads. They were beings from a different planet. They were aliens. I had been abducted by aliens, and I couldn’t begin to image what they would do to me. And as an ear-deafening drill whirring sound arose, making my hair stand on end on the back of my; neck, a large, sharp drill held by one of the aliens, slowly coming in on me, to be inserted into my mouth and down my esophagus and God knows what else and where else---I screamed and started convulsing insanely around. I couldn’t move my body. Not an inch in any way. Because, I realized, I was stripped naked and strapped down like a schizophrenic patient coming from a brutal, unexpected outburst with one of the nurses, and being called in for electroshock therapy—referring to the old days, that is. I screamed and screamed and as the drill began scissoring down into my mouth, down my esophagus cutting up everything into little strips of meat, I knew I wouldn’t ever be able to scream again. * * * * I woke up with a start, looking desperately around. It was just a dream I told myself, just a dirty old nightmare. Where am I? In my room....Oh. Ok…. Drenched in sweat, I fell back into bed only to feel uncomfortable and unpleasantly strange. It was like I had just come from a long swim in the salt, spit, phlegm, piss, shit infested ocean and came out all sticky to dry under the sun to make me feel even more stickier. I jumped out of bed and went straight to the bathroom, there, straight to the shower. * * * * When I came out, clean and dried up, I didn’t feel like doing back to bed—or even staying inside. I felt like going outside; it was so hot and stuffy. I needed to go outside. I needed the fresh air and the freedom. In here, I felt like I was baking up in an oven, even though I had just come from the shower. And the nightmare had taken it’s toll on me and shook me right up, so I decided to go out and take a walk, shake away the feelings of dread and nervousness in me. The paranoia. Besides, it was a Saturday, I didn’t have any school tomorrow, and I really saw no harm in going out so late and just taking a little stroll to ease my jumpy nerves. There was virtually no harm so long as I didn’t get caught by my parents sneaking out of the house. But that’s what the fire exit was for, something my father installed almost a year ago. None of us had used it. Not even once. Yet. But I guess there’s a first time for everything. I put on some clothes, and crept out as silent as the night. * * * * Blackness. All around me. Gravel crunching underneath my feet. When I had made it out safely, I crossed the street and walked into the woods. I felt like taking a stroll through the woods in complete privacy, rather than walking along the sidewalks out in the open, below the hot, bright orange street lamps. I sensed more peace in there for some reason, to calm me down. The fact that my nightmare had taken place in the woods about half of it was not intimidating whatsoever, not making me resist going into the woods in the first place on account of fake fears. I knew better. I knew it was just a nightmare, a bad dream, it wasn’t real, and it was completely harmless. But the harmless part didn’t seem so true anymore as I long wandered into the woods and was now utterly, pathetically lost. I was on the verge of breaking down into tears, contemplating waiting for the sun to rise so I could find my way back home easily, though I managed to hold the tears back, and simply put , the woods was just way too creepy to stay in all night. So, gathering all my bravery and strength, I continued walking, looking wildly around, for a possible way out of these ominous woods and back in bed, where I now wanted—needed—to be. I was so afraid I was literally on the verge of peeing my pants though somehow I managed to hold it in and continue walking. Looking. For a possible way out. I could see the faint sketch of trees. Bushes. And up above, the night’s sky. Some stars out, shining faintly, but no moon. I could feel the moon creeping along the hairs of my neck behind me, on the other-side of the sky. A sudden rustling in the bushes beside me. I turned to look. The bushes, the trees, everything was still as a statute; although the wind was gusting psychotically around, whipping and slapping and screeching. I looked up and saw an own flying by, flapping it’s feathery wings, hooting. Then it was gone. Something alien and foreign abruptly compelled me to look behind, at the sky. Long before I did and saw the giant shiny silver disc in replace of the moon start rotating in circles down and down towards me, I couldn’t make out whether this was still a bad dream or whether I was really awake and experiencing this, not only in my mind but in the mind of reality. I couldn’t decide. It was too hard—they were both so alike. In the middle of trying to decide which is which, I was cut short by the blinding white lights. It disorientated and paralyzed me and took me up to their ship. Where the aliens lay hungrily waiting. * * * * My eyes snapped open. Where am I? I looked around. In my room…on my bed… I swallowed and sat up. I continued looking dumbfoundly around as if I’ve never seen my room before. It slowly came to me. I was having a dream—a bad dream—upon a bad dream. A nightmare upon a nightmare. I thought: Am I still dreaming? Is this still a dream? Or am I really awake? In reality? But what is reality? What is fantasy? What is dreams? What is being awake like? How do I know I’m really awake and not just dreaming? How do I know which is which? “Supposed reality” could really be a dream, while “supposed dreaming” could actually be reality? Which is which? I can’t tell. My head whirled and whirled. What if this is a dream and I’m still dreaming? Well then, if this is a dream... I got up the bed, walked to the window, and looked out at the lonely street. I opened the window, the cool breeze gently wafting in against my face. I sniffed the air. It smelled so good, so fresh, though so vague….was it really there? Was it real? Or was it just part of another dream? A bad dream? A nightmare? In the distance, there was a sudden rustling sound in the woods; faint, but detectable. An owl swooped out of the trees, flapping its long, feathery wings, hooting and flew by overhead, over my roof, out of sight. From where I stood, looking out, I saw no moon in the sky, a few faint stars here and there, that was it. Something lingered though: I could feel it; the moon was right behind me; the silver disc was right behind me; the aliens were right behind me, waiting for me to turn around. I did turn around, away from the window, immediately shutting my eyes. I pretended they weren’t there, even though I knew they were, I could sense, feel them; their heat; their presence; I could even see them in the blackness of my closed eye lids. They sent images of themselves, using their minds, thinking the images to my consciousness. I preserved and shut the images out of my mind, as best I could. And never did I dare open my eyes, not even the tiniest sliver. I fell back in bed; stomach first, flipped around, pulled up the sheets over my head. I didn’t open my eyes. And as I felt them closing in on me; as I could feel their frail, pale slivery little hands grab all over me I knew I would never see the light of morning again.
Copyright © 2006 James Collins |