As long as I can remember I’ve been a lucid dreamer. My mother taught me the trick when I was a little girl and thus I took control of my dreams.
When I am actually dreaming I direct and cast and write my dreams. I read books, I travel the world I send my cast on epic adventures that often become the stories I tell later.
Hell I’ve even rolled the credit screen on particularly great dreams..
But the point is, one does not really have nightmares often when one can just shout ‘cut! redo!’ I mean it’s not to say I make my dreams all sweet and sunshine. NO. I hate that. lol
I love a juicy nightmare. I will stop one that is just mildly scary and turn it into something that would make Freddy Crougar proud.
But last night I couldn’t do that. Last night I was helpless in my own dream.
I saw the people I care about all happy and was thinking it would be one of those sappy dreams that leave you grinning when you wake up and thinking ‘gods I’m such a dork weee!’
But then faceless gray people came and started ripping them apart. I rushed in to try and save them, shouting at the grays to stop but there ended up appearing more. And more came and there was a sea of faceless grey things. No matter how I screamed and fought I could not escape and could not get to my friends. I just kept fighting. Swinging my weapons and fighting even as voices laughed at me and told me it was useless, I would never succeed.
I woke up screaming in rage…