dream

01.12.2025

it started in a bar. i was a girl sitting it a warm, charming dive. i remembered looking like a mix of myself and my aunt.¹ glancing up from my drink and to the surrounding patrons, someone caught my eye. rather, someone's keychain did. it was a ceramic, tag-shaped keychain.² it captured my attention because of the style and imagery. i recognized it, first, as what i immediately thought was was work of my favorite ceramicist. before long, the man whose clothing it was attached to met my eyes and began to strike up a conversation about it. i made my claims of recognition, but as the words came out they felt like a lie. i stopped and second-guessed myself. he noticed my confusion, but seemed to ignore. he quickly asked if i would like to accompany him and his friend to a party. i felt wary but also compelled to accept almost immediately. i remember looking to my glass as i scooted my seat away from the bar. it was empty, though i couldn't recall finishing it during our conversation.

there is a party, indeed. kind of like a block party or festival. it's night time and clear, but there is a chill wind and the pavement is damp from a rain that had ended not long ago. the atmosphere is... mystical. there are people dancing to a rhythmic, percussion-heavy performance that is accompanied by chant-like vocals. i did not feel safe nor unsafe. there, i begin to dance with the man. it is during this dance i feel immense emotions and experience a kind of mental cataloging of my adult life up to this point: here i am, a married woman dancing loosely with a man i only just met. here i am, a child of humble parents bringing them shame.³ the dance becomes fevered. the setting has changed. there is much candle light and we are no longer on a street, but in a sort of auditorium, posted up on step-like structures like the ones in vegas shows. our clothes, too, have changed. we are all in white or black garb that i cannot completely make out, but i can feel it's scanty nature in the form of the chills on my legs and stomach. the dance, again, morphs. this time, into something ritualistic and seemingly perverse. still, however, i am not scared nor happy. i am merely existing in this moment and guided by the hands and undulations of this man i do not know.

then, i recall, i do know him. in fact i know all of this. i realize i am not scared because i have done this before. i remember the dark and wet street we began on, and i remember this stage. i have engaged in all of this before. i remember this man. he is my husband, but not from here. not from this plane. all of this behavior launches us into metaphysical existences, eventually. where, over the course of this dance, we exist in a bubble outside of this reality. we love each other and live long lives. we feel joy and sadness and build a truly wonderful coexistence. we share everything. we have the same favorite ceramicist. we talk about the love for the artist's use of bold glazes against otherwise neutral and raw tones, and of their simple yet intentional depiction of birds. we guess about what that could symbolize to them, and in that, we disclose what it means to each of us. but i don't go back here this time.

i blink and awake alone on the street, as before, but there is no one. looking behind me, i now realize this is the street directly in front of the bar. i shake off a feeling of loss that i cannot place the origin of. i don't seem to remember anything that just happened, or at least i don't feel like it happened at all. i do realize, though, that i need to walk across the street to the hospital and check on the night nurses. there seems to have been a large storm that just passed through and i'm worried it might have knocked out the power over there.

this hospital can hardly be called such. it's incredibly small, more like an urgent care facility in size, but i know that they really only handle long-term care. i assume the larger hospital in the city sends them recovering patients to free up beds early and keep turn around high, but i don't know that for sure. i'm just there to check on the building. when i walk in, it almost resembles a ski lodge. the front interior walls are made of logs and, even though the remaining interior structure is much more modern, the entryway accents carry the woodsy and natural theme throughout. to my immediate right, there is opal and another night nurse, whose name i don't know, getting their shoes on for their upcoming shift. opal is a clam, gentle woman who is slightly taller than me. her clothes are clean and bright, she has a soft smile, and her permed, auburn hair sits high above her shoulders. i speak with opal about the lights which are indeed out, at least in this area. she assures me that other equipment is working, mentioning that there have been issues before with the generator that is tied specifically to the overhead lighting. sometimes, apparently, it takes a while longer to kick in than the other generator. i tell her that i will step outside for a while and to come out to grab me if the lights do not come on before her shift officially begins. she agrees, and suggests that she will go herself to the basement to check the fuel level of the generators just to be sure.

when i step outside, there is a large bed just beyond the hospital entrance. it is comically large. it has the surface area of three parking spots. this, however, is not unusual. in fact, i recall seeing how untidy it was on my way in and i came out to fix it. as i begin, i receive a call from opal. she just wants to chat on her way to the basement, as it's dark and lonely. we start talking about the weather and i yank the huge comforter to smooth it out. opal asks if i can see if any other businesses in the area are experiencing a blackout. given how late it is, no other surrounding business are open so they wouldn't have their lights on, but as i am telling her this i take a look around anyway. not far off is a specialty college, one for advanced mathematics. i round to the other side of the bed, and notice someone sleeping in the large bed. apparently this is not surprising, but i attempt not to wake them as i continue to rearrange the blankets.

it's at the point where i can fix the bed no more that i lean on the side of it and ask opal if she has heard any of the local rumors about the school. when she tells me she hasn't, i take the opportunity to warn her of a man i had heard was roaming around the area, presumably with less than savory intentions. it's said, albeit with much embellishment, that he is either a former professor or student who was banned for his strong fixation on hypnotism. he believes that certain number sequences accompanied by certain sounds are the keys to successful hypnotism, and even mind control. the college expelled him when he disturbed many other students and staff by attempting to persuade or even force them to undergo his hypnotism attempts. i included, too, that there are some odd missing cases going about and popular gossip indicates that this man might have something to do with it. all this was shared with a tone suggesting that, of course, this is probably really silly but we should still be careful of strangers in the area. opal agreed and thanked me for the warning. by this time she had reached the basement stairs and as she descended, the lights kicked on. still, she confirmed the fuel levels were good, and that she discovered the spare fuel stock was more than enough to get them through the night. i thanked her, said my goodbye, hung up the phone, and began to walk home.

the walk was not remarkable, except for a creeping suspicion that i was not alone. however, i had made it back to my house without incident. it was cold inside, as i'd left the a/c on. i hurried off my outer clothes and made my way to my bedroom. the walls were paneled with cheap, fake wood and the carpet was a muddled mix of brown and dark orange. the rooms were all small, and my bedroom was no exception. there was room for only my futon, twin bed, and oak vanity. i felt uneasy as i entered, so i locked the door behind me. as i paced the small distance from the wall to the futon, i felt as if i should call opal back. her shift still didn't start for about half an hour, so maybe she could calm me a bit. i did so and we spoke about her pre-shift routine. eventually, though, there was a clatter at the bedroom door. i got up to face it, and i could see it being forced open. my eyes, almost in slow motion presumably because of the immediate panic, panned up the body of an extremely tall man and met his sunken eyes. he almost looked like he could be anyone's uncle, or younger grandfather. his skin was wrinkled and sagging slightly. he had a ball cap on, blue in color i think. but the expression on his face was cold, frightening, and devoid of any emotion you could name in the english language. he continued to force the door, but it was not brutal or shaky. it was smooth and deliberate. it as almost as if he could have opened it easily at anytime, but he was choosing to do it slowly for flair. it was still partially closed when his hand came through the door holding a pocket watch by the chain. i was terrified and confused. yet, i almost wanted to laugh at this toon-like scene. before i could choose how it act, he swiftly opened the door the rest of the way. i backed up quickly, falling onto the futon. i could hear opal asking if i was okay thorough the receiver inches from my ear. the man reached toward me and i screamed. first, the sounds would not come, then i began yelling for my little brother, riley.⁴ then, for my mom. then, for anyone. i don't know if opal or the man said anything in those moments because my terror was deafening. as he closed in on my face, he opened his mouth. in place of teeth there were grotesque, black, bristle-like things. they moved like tentacles and made an audible noise as they rubbed against one another.

and then i woke up, whimpering apparently.

#adult #bad #dream