Kasha
Slayer In Training
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2001
- Posts
- 1,204
I have been having horrible ones for the last few days. I have always had really detailed, realistic dreams. Which for the most part is cool.. I can usually remember with great clarity what I have just dreamed about. When I am having a good dream..like going to the movies with George Clooney...it's nice to remember it.
But holy God, not these nightmares. I hate it. I wish I could dream in a way I've heard other people talk about hazy, fragmented..or not remembered. I hate to wake up crying, to have this "memory" that my mis wired brain has made up.
I think I need to go to a dream analyzer...This is the nightmare from last night.
I am at my grandparents home. The house that I grew up in. I am chatting with my husband because he is getting ready to leave. When he leaves, I start to help my grandma with some caramel she has made. I am wearing this grey sweater (which I really own) and somehow the sleeve has gotten this mushy caramel crap on it. So, my grandma tries to help me get it off by heating up a butter knife and scraping it off. This doesn't work so I take it off and take it to the laundry room.
Then I walk down to my room, and make up the bed. I hear the door and I know my dad has just come over. I start hurrying around the room getting everything cleaned up so I can get out of there before he comes to the back of the house.
As I start to leave the room he comes in. He says that we can talk now. I say what...he says we can talk now since you've lost weight. I say what the hell, fuck you I don't wanna talk to you.. I walk out of the room into the living room where my grandparents are sitting. I say..tell them what you just said, that you would talk to me now since I have lost weight. Oh God, fuck you blah blah. At this point I start arguing with him telling him I don't wanna talk to him and cussing him out. Anyhow, then I go and kiss my grandparents and go to leave.
I walk to the frontdoor and see my dad sitting in a chair. I reach into my pocket and pull out a handgun. I hold it up and squeeze the trigger. Click, no bullet. So, I try again. Click. I think oh shit, and then I look my father in the face and he says I'll show you how to shoot a gun..kinda menacing. I hear my grandpa saying Oh god,oh god. I know that my dad is gonna shoot me, so I start to run out of the house. While running I put my hand in my pocket and grab my keys, because I am thinking to myself that people in scary movies that are getting chased never have their keys ready. So I am at the car, putting the key in the locked door when I hear a gunshot.
I drop my keys and start to run. I hear another gunshot and see the bullets flying past me. I fall to the ground, I can smell the dirt and grass. I start to crawl when I see our neighbor come out and yell what's happening.
I stand back up while still trying to get away. I look back and still see my father walking slowly toward me shooting, but I look over to the house and I see my grandpa come out and he has a gun. He shoots it up in the air, like he is trying to get my dad's attention. I see my dad stop and turn, I think he is going to shoot at my grandpa.
I start running towards him to stop him. We meet in the street and I stop right in front of him. He says I am the best father in the world and then he shoots himself.
Then I wake up..hysterical crying, heart pounding.
Fucked up right.
But holy God, not these nightmares. I hate it. I wish I could dream in a way I've heard other people talk about hazy, fragmented..or not remembered. I hate to wake up crying, to have this "memory" that my mis wired brain has made up.
I think I need to go to a dream analyzer...This is the nightmare from last night.
I am at my grandparents home. The house that I grew up in. I am chatting with my husband because he is getting ready to leave. When he leaves, I start to help my grandma with some caramel she has made. I am wearing this grey sweater (which I really own) and somehow the sleeve has gotten this mushy caramel crap on it. So, my grandma tries to help me get it off by heating up a butter knife and scraping it off. This doesn't work so I take it off and take it to the laundry room.
Then I walk down to my room, and make up the bed. I hear the door and I know my dad has just come over. I start hurrying around the room getting everything cleaned up so I can get out of there before he comes to the back of the house.
As I start to leave the room he comes in. He says that we can talk now. I say what...he says we can talk now since you've lost weight. I say what the hell, fuck you I don't wanna talk to you.. I walk out of the room into the living room where my grandparents are sitting. I say..tell them what you just said, that you would talk to me now since I have lost weight. Oh God, fuck you blah blah. At this point I start arguing with him telling him I don't wanna talk to him and cussing him out. Anyhow, then I go and kiss my grandparents and go to leave.
I walk to the frontdoor and see my dad sitting in a chair. I reach into my pocket and pull out a handgun. I hold it up and squeeze the trigger. Click, no bullet. So, I try again. Click. I think oh shit, and then I look my father in the face and he says I'll show you how to shoot a gun..kinda menacing. I hear my grandpa saying Oh god,oh god. I know that my dad is gonna shoot me, so I start to run out of the house. While running I put my hand in my pocket and grab my keys, because I am thinking to myself that people in scary movies that are getting chased never have their keys ready. So I am at the car, putting the key in the locked door when I hear a gunshot.
I drop my keys and start to run. I hear another gunshot and see the bullets flying past me. I fall to the ground, I can smell the dirt and grass. I start to crawl when I see our neighbor come out and yell what's happening.
I stand back up while still trying to get away. I look back and still see my father walking slowly toward me shooting, but I look over to the house and I see my grandpa come out and he has a gun. He shoots it up in the air, like he is trying to get my dad's attention. I see my dad stop and turn, I think he is going to shoot at my grandpa.
I start running towards him to stop him. We meet in the street and I stop right in front of him. He says I am the best father in the world and then he shoots himself.
Then I wake up..hysterical crying, heart pounding.
Fucked up right.
