21 September, 2008, 1225 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

When I was little, sometimes I had night terrors.

The one that comes to mind first occurred when I was about twelve.  I was dreaming about the Spice Girls being shadows on a wall in my room.  For some reason or another, I was terrified and I couldn’t wrench myself from the dream.  I couldn’t wake up.  And I heard thunder and lightning.  Then I really woke up, and the power was out due to a thunderstorm and I was shaky and sweaty and tense and frightened.  I went into my mom’s room.

Another one was a reoccurring dream that happened frequently when I was about seven.  It took place in our apartment.  Every night I went to sleep, a vampire would sneak in through a window.  He looked like a stereotypical vampire–black suit with white ruffles near the throat, a red amulet around his neck, deathly pale face, slicked-back black hair.  He was very cartoon-like, but the fact that he was a vampire was terrifying.  His goal was to steal my musical teddy bear, Mu.  I felt that I needed to protect Mu because I knew that the vampire wanted to replace him with an evil teddy bear that looked just like Mu, only with red eyes.  Or else he wanted to bite Mu and make him evil.  But I was scared of the vampire.  That’s when I began sleeping with the covers up over the back of my head, with only my face peeking out–I didn’t want to be bitten.  It’s a habit that’s stayed with me, but the rationale behind it is lost.

I had another fully cartoon-like dream where a dinosaur was chasing me.  Sometimes, it was on a black background.  Sometimes it was on a brown background.  And I could see myself and the dinosaur running right forever, just like in a cartoon.  At the same time, though, I couldn’t really see myself.  I wasn’t in my body.  I just knew I was a caveperson and I was running from a T-Rex.

More recently, I have had a few nightmares, but I don’t remember them.  I just know that I attempted very hard to rouse myself from sleep, only to find that I was paralyzed and couldn’t move, even in my half-conscious state.  That terrified me more.

Last night, though, I had a trilingual dream.  I was journeying through a country full of narrow cobblestone roads between buildings.  I recognized this counrty as the Czech Republic.  I’ve never even seen photographs of the Czech Republic.  I rode a moped, but I couldn’t get on it right.  One leg was hanging off funny.  It felt awkward.  I watched myself from behind as I rode the moped.  At one point, in a “town square” sealed off by tightly-packed cobblestone buildings, I fell off the moped but didn’t really hurt myself.  I journeyed through the streets for someone to talk to, and found vendors speaking French.  I found a friend and had a conversation with him in franglais.  And then I made a new friend and kept asking him, “Parlez-vous anglais?”  And I knew that he did, but he pretended he couldn’t and he really wanted to speak French even though he couldn’t really grasp it, so I spoke to him in French only.  It was effortless.  We went on a journey of sorts to a nearby cobblestone hotel, and our mission was extremely urgent.  In the lobby, we found his grandmother, and she seemed to love me and she gave me gifts.  She led us through a labyrinth of sorts, and at the end, there was just a solid wall with a window in it.  And you could see the sky and beautiful things outside, I knew, and I looked through it but I couldn’t see out.  I could just see my body, an out-of-body moment.  But I knew that I did see out of the window.  And there was lots of ceremony and crying, because apparently this was my only way to get home and I wanted to go home but I loved them.  And then I pushed on the wall and I was back in the lobby.  Only now, I could use the front door of the hotel to go home.  The carpet in the lobby was red velvet.  I remember that.


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