Part I
It begins
visually, well of course it does but this dream thrived on it compared to most
dreams I have. The clarity of each
moment nearly fooled me that it was a true memory of mine. Green grass matted down forming a six-foot
wide meandering pathway with dense high foliage to either side is the first image. I was walking this path although not
used enough to be considered a trail, for there was no dirt streak as commonly
found. The environment was that of
I-80/94, a highway, in which these hilly grassy paths ran along either side. Although like many dreams it was a
distorted version. The highway was
busy with traffic moving to and fro although on the grassy path you’d never
know for there was no noise to be heard.
At this point in the dream I only knew I was going somewhere without
knowing its ending point. Now that
common occurrence in dreams happens when the scene shifts without notice or
explanation.
Part II
A
low ceilinged, small room now becomes the surrounding area. The lights are dim, in fact half the
fluorescent lights don’t even work and one set of them flickers. The dream is darker now, with a sense
of insecurity creeping about. I
look around and realize this is a business of some sort. There are used DVDs and various video
games for sale on a couple racks nearby.
At this point I am aware that I am married with a baby at home and after
I’m done in this shady-looking shop I will return on my way home to them. It was but a split second this
information passed into my mind then returned to the dream. Without knowing how I came to
understand I was in a poor part of town, in my hometown actually, although the
area I was in wasn’t slum at the time but the dream doesn’t paint it that way.
Two
grey-headed men ran this shop. I
turned to see one of them amble off into a back room then I shifted my attention
back to the racks of merchandise.
Indiana Jones, with Harrison Fords mug occupying the entire cover caught
my eye. It was an image from
Raiders of the Lost Ark I’m sure of.
I also saw Wii cases but no memorable titles. At that juncture I was suddenly at a low counter in the same
shop facing one of the unrecognizable grey-headed men. The dream had propelled me further but
not quite enough to change scenes.
He twiddled a five-dollar bill (USD) in his fingers, gave a sneer, and
then handed me one-dollar bill in return.
I knew that couldn’t be right although said nothing, the dream seemed to
know (it was fixing it, I trusted the dream), the other grey headed man
counseled with the other upon agreeing to warrant me one more dollar bill which
seemed to end any further debate.
Which
item I had supposedly bought I did not know, nor does it have any further implication
in this dream. Before leaving, and
not entirely sure when this thought popped into my mind, I had a feeling
getting robbed could be a very real possibility in an area such as this. However it didn’t seem as big a concern
as it should have been. I
continued on my way worry free.
I
stepped outside and turned right which would have been the correct direction to
return home even in this mock hometown of mine. Upon glancing around I’m at the corner of roughly White Oak
& 173rd. The
building I left doesn’t exist.
Instead houses make up the space but not here. I see a man, a broken mangled chain linked fence
behind him with weeds sprung up here and there to help create this now unsafe
atmosphere. He wore a tan beanie,
had a black goatee, stood short and did not appear friendly which happened to
make the scene suddenly frightening.
He pulled out a wooden handle pistol from his right pocket holding it
straight at me. I thought
immediately, “It figures I’d get robbed after thinking about it.”
He
demanded my belongings, I obliged by sliding my left hand into my front left
pocket, where I never would keep my wallet but here it was along with a tablet
cell phone. The wallet was brown
and leather, a gift from my mother a very long time ago, I still use it
today. The tablet-like phone, I
don’t know where that came from. I
knew it wasn’t my phone but the dream told me it was so I accepted it
readily. The slick surface of the
phone face rubbed against the wallet, making it difficult to take only the
wallet out. I was intent on not
revealing the phone I know not why at that point. The goatee man hurried me with a spray of quick shouts. Eventually I pulled the wallet out
alone and handed it to him. My
hands were up. I pleaded with my
eyes, to scared to chance a word.
There were only some fifteen dollars in the wallet, which now dawn on me
why I gave it over instead of the phone as well. I chanced giving over as little as I afford to lose. The phone vanishes from thought now and
never returns to the dream.
The
man slowly lowered his gun exasperated, disappointed at the amount no doubt. He
then looked different, he no longer appeared unfriendly or mean but rather
guilty as if he didn’t really want to be robbing anymore, as if he was
pressured into it and wanted no part in it anymore. No words were uttered.
The man turned and ran away from me, beyond the miserable chain linked
fence, across a diagonal set of railroad tracks. To go away from the dream for a moment this man’s behavior
resembles Draco Malfoy. Inwardly
he is struggling which life he wants, one of good or bad nature. This could be due to watching the Harry
Potter string of movies over the past month. It seems reasonable enough a connection.
Why
I half followed after him I don’t know, I stood upon the tracks, which were
elevated as on a hill looking down as the man ran into an old warehouse a few
hundred yards away. These railroad
tracks replace a bike path in reality.
A black man looked at me then at the other man, he stood about halfway
to each of us in the middle. He
shouted something to the other along the lines of “he saw you.” It was meant that I had seen too much,
of what I do not know, because now the dream told me it was time to go. I made my way down the railroad tracks knowing
I would be followed. The scene
blinks now and I am now in an entirely different area.
Part III
Its
night now and I’m in an unknown backyard.
I deduce I’m still in the poor unsafe neighborhood. The same sense of insecurity from the
last part remains. I bump into
someone at this stage and he appears Latino. He reminds me of someone I knew long ago, from high school
although I can’t confirm it. It’s
impossible to make out who it is.
Its as if he is blurred from head to toe, only being able to make out a
couple features. He knows I’m
being chased, again no idea how, and we quickly form a plan to thwart my pursuer.
My
mystery friend takes cover near the house off to our left. Not long after the man from the last
segment with the gun has found me.
I’m too far away from the house for a successful ambush so I plead at
the man who edges closer to me with gun aimed, I back away slowly until my
friend is able to spring upon him unawares. We wrestle with him and loose his gun away. We have him down and defeated but we
make to run as the dream tells me that there are others still pursuing me. Its possible the fear and panic also
told me to flee, either way this scene ends.
Part IV
My
surroundings take quite a turn now.
I’m in a vacation type of city environment, a combo of Florida and
Branson, Missouri. I’m now
entering a building and at last feel safe. The atmosphere is booming, many people around, the sun
shines through the windows, giving me a sense of protection against the people
of the night. The shear relief at
being somewhere secure is amazing.
I turn a corner to enter a room from a hallway and see another familiar
face from my past, Mike Zubrick, he looked as he did the last I saw him some
five years ago or so, grey haired, in good shape for a man nearing seventy. I worked with him in my late teens and
early twenties at a pizza place, my first job. He was a genius at math and sort of a mentor to me on the
job – I’ve always respected him.
I
grabbed him desperately by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth shouting
his name a few times. It was then
I realized how torn and tattered my cloths were I was dirty. How long have I been on the run? What has happened since the last scene
of this dream? Finally my old friend
recognizes me and I learn he works at the job I have most recently quit which
happens to be another pizza place.
I worked there from mid-twenties to early thirties. His cloths are inside out but I see the
logo that represents the corporation he works for on his sleeve. Like mine his cloths are ripped and
holey as well, although I ignore that.
As I’m talking with him about who knows what, dialogue is sparse in this
dream. People talk but the words
aren’t recognizable. Mike shifts
into another old man I worked with.
One moment I see him clear as day, I turn my head casually away from him
for a second and when I turn back he is replaced with…
Art,
a man who had similar qualities and features as Mike, he worked with me more
recently at the second pizza place and being sixty years of age. Aside general appearance, a knack for
math and being a mentor figure at work they are usually who I think of first
when I think of my two jobs I worked at in my youth. It only made sense in the dream I viewed them as the same
person. Nearing the end of this
scene, in the hallway I arrived from, the man with the gun lumbered down the
way. He was trashed. He had a
bruised eye, swollen cheek, and was just in a worn beat up state. He passed by not showing anything on
his face except a blank expression void of any thought. He hunched as he walked, never saying a
word, just shuffling along.
Could I have been the one who pummeled him so? The thought grieved me. Then I walk outside as the scene shifts ever so slightly. It remains the same part however.
Looking
down the street, the bustling is gone, people are scarce, and the sunlight is
blocked by overcast. The buildings
look rundown, abandoned and unsafe.
I’m back in the wrong neighborhood, I walk down to the corner, and I see
some shady characters. I glance
overhead to see a sign it reads ‘Cinema’.
It’s broken and a wreck – its been closed for years. I have a queasy feeling, like a
twilight zone moment where I’m destined to not make my way home. I decide to go back inside. When I get to the door, its glass, I
can see through it. It’s not the
same place inside either, no surprise.
I open the door and step in, I feel uncomfortable at once.
I
walk forward to see a man sitting at a table facing me. As I near him I discover I know him,
Its Wyatt Titus jr. Instant relief
flows through me. It is
astonishing what one small familiar piece of what you know can calm your nerves
in an otherwise alien place. I
take a seat and we talk. He
informs me he knows a way to get me home, us home. He talks as if we’re trapped, trying to escape where we
are. I pay no mind I just want to
leave. As the conversation goes on
it becomes apparent Wyatt isn’t being truthful, it becomes clear he plans to
turn me over to my pursuers, the shock stifles me, I didn’t want to believe
it. The dream ends.
This
dream occurred on February 17, 2015 and to this day has stayed fresh and crisp
in my mind. What is it that makes
certain dreams memorable? I don’t
know if this dream has any substance to it but the urge to pull it from my mind
and present it here had to be done.
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