Dream Journal 7

April 2nd 2005

Dream #1
I’m standing in front of what looks like a doorway, but behind it I can only see thick blackness. I’m not sure where I am, or where the doorway leads to, but something is compelling me to walk into the darkness. It takes me a few minutes to work up the nerve, but I finally do, step into the black nothingness that gapes open like a jaw, ready to swallow me whole. As I step further into the blackness, the door slams shut behind me. I jump, and a knot of panic forms in the base of my stomach. I want to scream, but my throat is dry and won’t work. Suddenly, a candelabra across the room ignites, and I am bathed in the soft glow of candle light. I am in a room, an older room, and everything appears to be covered in either dust or cobwebs. There is a table with a picture frame sitting upright on it, next to the candles, and there are several paintings against the walls. Directly in front of me there is a large staircase which leads up to a double set of doors. On my right is another doorway. Next to the table there is a coat rack. I walk over to the candelabra, the source of my light and salvation from the unending blackness, pick it up, and pick up the framed photograph. The picture is covered in dust, and the frame is made out of a heavy silver covered metal. There is a green rust or mold creeping in on the edges of the frame, and the dust is thick. I used my hand to wipe the dust free, but it leaves a smear of blood across the glass protecting the picture. I must have cut my hand and not realized it. I use part of my shirt to wipe the photo clear, and there pictured is a woman, dressed in a large formal gown, one of those old timey looking gowns, maybe from the civil war era? I’m not sure, but it certainly wasn’t modern. The woman looks to be in her mid fifties, her hair is pulled up in a bun, and her face is a scowl, her lips pursed in anger. Certainly not a pleasant looking woman by any stretch of the imagination. Suddenly, her face shifts slightly, her skin appears to twist and shrink, and almost decay and becomes skeletal, her expression suddenly changing to a wicked looking grin. I’m so startled by this that I drop the photo, and the glass breaks. I hear laughter suddenly, from behind me. I whip around, but there is nothing there. I next walk over to one of the paintings and begin to wipe off the dust. There is a man in his early twenties looking angrily down at me. He is dressed in a formal suit, with a vest. He has a mustache, and his hair is slicked back, and he’s wearing thin framed glasses. It takes me a minute to recognize the face, but it looks almost exactly like Barry, from works (or from my mind I guess). Underneath the painting there is a small, ornate metal label that reads “Sir Henry George (illegible, I think the word starts with an “R” or a “B”)”. I begin to back away from the painting, and I hear a voice behind me whisper “Welcome Home JD!”. And then I wake up.

Dream #2
I am in my old house, living with my mother. It's the middle fo the night, and all of the lights are off. I have a younger brother (for some reason) and outside of our house are hundreds of soldiers with machine guns. They're trying to get into our house to kill us, but as long as we keep the lights off, they can't come into our house. My mother and I are lying on the floor on the second floor of our house (our real house didn't have to floors). My brother is there, and I'm trying to come up with a plan for us to escape. Downstairs, I remember that my mom has several shotguns, so I ask her if she still has them. I begin to plan how we'll escape. I'll run out the front of the hosue with a shot gun, start shooting,a dn while I'mn distracting the soldiers, my mom and brother will escape out the back. Sure, I'll probably be killed, but at least they'll be safe. I stand up to go to the stairs to go down to the basement to get the guns, when I trip over the coffee table. My younger brother, trying to help, switches on the lights, which allows the soldiers to enter the house. One of them runs up the stairs, and I recognize him from junio hgih school. He turns and shoots me in the chest, and I fall over, dead. And then I wake up.