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Horrible, no good, very bad Dream

I'm thirteen or fourteen years old, somewhere in Texas. I'm coming from some sort of large gathering of folks, likely family; I should be negotiating for a ride home, but don't want to head home yet, so I'm just hanging out in the back of someone's pick-up truck. I'm planning to probably hang out at their place for a while, and then get a ride back home somehow. It is some time after noon, not yet towards evening.

We drive for a bit on dusty roads. I peer through the back of the cab window and watch the driver in the rear-view mirror. I don't recognize her, which doesn't bother me too much. I figure I'll just walk home from wherever she stops, if need be. Then I notice that I don't have shoes on, nor a shirt, so couldn't do public transportation (specifically, BART). But still... I can walk.

We get to where she's going, and I hop out of the truck, startling her. She apparently hadn't noticed me the entire time, but does recognize me. She tells me I shouldn't be there and asks me if I'm all right. I assure her I am and will just walk home. She gets a strange look in her eye and tells me that I should start quickly. I walk, somewhat randomly, around curved streets with names I don't recognize, labeled in a manner I don't recognize--I don't know this town at all, don't know which way to head to get to somewhere I will recognize; but I figure I should be able to just walk a given direction and find some sort of stronger civilization (I'm deep in the suburbs, on the outskirts of rural).

The first few turns I take lead me to a dead end, which doesn't seem right for the area. There's a big cement wall holding up earth to my left, a barbed fence in front of me; to my right, a slight alley running behind a mansion, which itself dead-ends into thick bramble. Behind me, turning around, is a long, long, long staircase up a hill. I hadn't come that way, or... perhaps I'd started to daydream. But I needed to turn around, because I was likely deep in someone's private property. [[The grounds look oddly like some sort of 3d first-person-shooter, and I especially notice the staircase, walking up it and trying to compare how that felt with how it felt in a video-game, wondering what I could do to make a video-game more realistic.]] The lady that I'd sort-of-hitched a ride with is behind me. "You shouldn't be here," she says frantically. "Do you need me to call 911?" The sky is now dark, and lightning flashes.

"No, I'll be fine," I say uncertainly. I'm looking around trying to figure out what to do, about to run up the rest of the stairs, when she screams. I turn to look at her, and behind her, behind her a good ways, is a man that I'm sure is her husband; he's in a wheel-chair, but seems hale and normal besides, though a bit thin.

"Get out of here!" he commands.

I run, and fall; suddenly I'm on a side passage that is not heading up the stairs; I continue to run. I enter the mansion, and start looking around. I notice a lot of abstract art, hung in clumps here and there, and think that I should send them some of mine. [[Now I'm convinced they have to be some sort of relation of mine, that I almost recognize them--an Aunt and Uncle, perhaps, in some distant manner.]] Then I start to notice some of my art hung here and there, and wonder how they've gotten it. [[There's a slight disjoint as the art they're hanging is stuff I didn't do until I was twenty-something; it "feels" odd to me, but I don't get more than that]].

The man is in front of me, standing, with a look of ancient consternation on his face. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" he screams. This takes me aback. I run, scramble, scamper, and am out the back of his house and back to where I'd seen him in a wheelchair. I don't really notice the scenery in my haste, don't notice how I get out of the house. I probably couldn't duplicate the effort, at least not on purpose. Outside, the couple is a bit calmer, standing together. They tell me that I have to beware the creature... it's somewhat like a giant slug, giant to the size of a rottweiler, and moves with a speed somewhere inbetween. They have it trained following a ball that bounces with a life of its own, but the ball likes to play with children. If the creature comes too near me, it will destroy me. The ball will lead it to me. The ball is bouncing towards me.

They tell me to kick the ball a ways back, but not too far (as I'm about to kick it over the fence to try to confound the slug forever)--the slug will simply go for the closest living body. So it's a game of kick the ball away, but not too far away, and run a bit, and kick the ball away, but not too far away, and run a bit. The ball bounces back quickly, barely keeping the slug away. I'm having more trouble navigating the stairs than either the ball or the creature.

I slip.

I come to in a house that I know to be mine, with cuts and scratches and bruises all about. I'm about to see if I can move, whether I have any broken bones or whatnot. [[I wake up]]

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
niyama
Feb. 12th, 2004 06:45 pm (UTC)
Ouch! Futility, misdirection, condemnation, fear. That one was a stinker! Well done writing it down though.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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