Dreaming

Dreaming

I toss and turn endlessly in my sleep, my dreams haunting me. I try to
banish the nightmares from my subconscious.
I wake abruptly and find myself gasping for a drink, for anything
liquid and cold to ease my sore throat.
Desperate, I leap out of bed and grab the empty glass off my bedside
table. Its contents had been consumed earlier in the night without
enough haste, so now I would have to go to the bathroom. As I walk down
the corridor I find that my delicate cotton nightdress has been soaked
in what appears to be sweat, but may be something more sinister. The
pictures on the wall speak to me as I hurry onto the bathroom, talking
of nonsense. Nonsense of time forgotten. Unfazed, I reach for the door
handle.
I grip.
I turn.
I push.
I find myself falling through the floor and onto a pile of soft,
multicoloured cushions and lay for a second feeling the cool spring
breeze across my face. After what seems like an eternity I pick myself
up and find myself surrounded by smiley faces. The brightness of their
yellow colouring blinds me momentarily, but I blink rapidly and soon
become accustomed to their aura-like glow. I realise that they are
singing to me, the black lines of their mouths opening and closing, as
they mimic the circus tune, a memory of my childhood.
"Da da da-da da-da! Da da der da!"
I join in, laughing, and find that my nightdress has turned into a
baggy clowns suit, with stripes and breaches, and a big hoop around my
middle to make me look fat. Thinking the faces want me to perform I do
a cartwheel. My hands feel the harsh grit of the newly formed circus
ring as I turn upside down. When my feet are firmly on the ground again
I look up and see the colour fading from the faces, until they become
colourless. The lines blend together and fluffy white clouds are
formed.
Unnerved, I happily frolic and skip along the clouds, my feet sinking
a foot within them before finding solid matter. To my delight some of
the clouds begin to form shapes; dolphins jump in and out of the
remaining clouds, and a unicorn runs along side me. I laugh at the
mythical creature, the twisted horn stretching out ahead of it, further
than I imagined. The unicorn stops, and motions for me to climb onto
it. I do so, and we begin riding as fast as the non-existent wind, with
the summer suns harsh rays beating down upon my back.
As I ride the clouds darken, becoming a threatening grey, and I find
myself falling again.
Falling.
Falling.
I land on a giant marshmallow, the size of a beanbag, and a cloud of
sugary powder fills the space around me. I stick my tongue out and
taste the sweet air. Pleased by the taste, I manage to grab a handful
of the melt-in-your-mouth sweet before it starts bouncing along the
ground.
The marshmallow morphs into a bright orange space hopper, and I hold
onto the handles, for fear I should fall of as we pick up pace.
The space hopper turns into a rickety horse-drawn cart, and I see a
sign as we enter the dark woods, the brown autumn leaves swirling in
the wind created by the cart as we go. The sign reads 'Chistlehurst',
the town where I used to live, and a smile spreads across my face as I
realise.
"I'm going home." I say out loud.
The two elegant white horses, with rainbow manes and purple hooves,
make steady process. On an impulse I look behind me, and see two pink
bunny rabbits running close behind. The creatures were about the size
of large dogs, and their limbs flail, somehow elegantly, as they run
along.
Laughing at this I turn around again and see the woods thicken before
me, darkening as the winter clouds close around us. It takes me several
more turns before I realise that the bunnies have disappeared.
Disheartened I pout, before turning back around. The rain begins to
fall. The blood red droplets fall onto my white dress, which has
replaced the clown suit, permanently staining it. Chilled by these icy
ruby droplets I lean over to reach my wolf fur shawl.
As I do so, I catch sight of the pink rabbits. Unbeknown to me, they
have run up beside the cart and are running alongside it.
As their fur was stained red, the rabbits appeared to be transforming
before my eyes. Firstly they were ageing rapidly, their pink fur
turning grey, like an old woman's hair. Next the long floppy ears began
to shrink, becoming smaller and smaller until they were two identical
triangles on the side of their heads. The bodies become lean and toned,
and the creatures, that appeared to be greyhounds, continued to
happily, and comfortably run along side.
Suddenly, I realise that these were no dogs. As they snarl at me,
bearing their yellow fangs I knew that they were in fact, wolves.
Panicking, I shrug the shawl off my shoulders, in a vain attempt to
rid myself of the smells, which may have been left by the fur, and in
turn angered the wolves.
I saw the glint in their eyes as they prepared to pounce. The woods
fell away, leaving a brick path, and I realised I wasn't going home.
The road stretched out before the horses, which had turned black to
blend in with the surroundings. That was all that was left.
Darkness.
As the wolves prepare to pounce I see a gate ahead of me, the gates to
hell, and above a sign, it reads 'Chistlehurst. Welcome Home'. The
wolves' paws were outstretched as they pounced, sailing towards me.
They landed on the seat, and one held me down, with a paw that had
grown to half its size. It played with me, turning me this way and
that, until I was laid to rest on my front. I knew it was time, and let
out an ear-piercing scream.

* * *

In reality my back arched as, within my dreams, the wolves sunk their
teeth into the delicate flesh of my back.