Slight stinging sensation

There doesn't seem to be anything to hold the street together any more. It seemed so solid that I'm surprised to see it disintegrate like this. First, the buildings crumble, then the smaller structures, the lamp posts and traffic light, the cement trash cans, and the fence around the parking lot. The sidewalk turns to dust, and the street melts into the ground.

I'm left in a dry, dusty open area with huge rocks, giant plants that are like brown cacti without so many spikes, and a dry river bed. On closer inspection, it looks like these plants are dead, and possibly petrified. This whole area seems totally barren. Nothing here is green.

I put my hand on one of the rocks. It's extremely warm. The ground is warm, too. It's daylight, but nowhere in the sky do I see the sun. I am not surprised. There is no place like this in Ohio. I'm still feeling horribly angry, but I'm also wary. This place is unfamiliar, and I don't know if anything else is here.

As I step around a boulder that used to be part of the parking garage, looking toward the area from which I saw them disappear, I hear a noise behind me. Before I can turn, I feel something impact against the back of my armor & shield, and I'm thrown forward. I curl up and roll onto my side to see that the impact came from the stinger of a huge wasp that is close to half my size.

There are scorch marks around the base of a stinger as long as my arm, where energy discharged from my shield seems to have burned the wasp. It rises in to the air and circles around, then hovers over me. The stinger appears to be poised for use, but the wasp appears to be hesitant to approach. It buzzes angrily, as I stand up and look at it. I'm waiting to see what it's going to do, but I'm also pulling energy from around me. The spikes in the outer shield stand out, arcs of energy crackling between the points. I feel like an electric porcupine, but at least the bug can't touch me without getting hurt.

Slowly, the shape of the wasp changes, slimming down, wings shrinking, head shrinking, front legs becoming arms. As it sinks toward the dirt, the face begins to look vaguely human. He stands on 4 legs, the stinger still sticking out behind him, staring at me with those injured-looking eyes. I stare back at him. I hear a low growl, and then he's moving forward again. He gets just a few inches away from the ends of the spikes in my shield, and stops. He looks furious.

He kind of belches, then vomits a viscous, black ooze over me. It doesn't touch my body, hovering on the edges of the spikes instead. I feel pressure, like fingers are pushing on my skin. The ooze slides down to the ground, and soaks into the cracked dirt beneath my feet. The attack was totally ineffective. I'm feeling simultaneously triumphant at having had no problem resisting his effort, and confused as to what he was trying to do.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me jerks upward hard and fast, knocking me off balance. As I struggle to right myself, it lurches side to side, up and down, tossing me around like a rag doll. I'm thrown to the ground, and can't do anything about how I fall. I feel my head hit a rock when I land, and for a second, I'm completely stunned.

I find myself on my back, with him on top of me, using his six limbs to pin me to the ground. His little tiny mouth opens, and keeps opening, until his jaw has stretched wide, and his chin is down by his chest. At the same time, he motions that stinger forward toward my gut. He bites down on my shoulder and thrusts the stinger in, only to shriek in pain and leap away from me.

The shield wasn't gone. It looked like it was gone, but it was still there. It was just flattened up against my body during the moment when my focus was dimmed. Now, the stinger seems bent at an awkward angle. I'm guessing that it's broken.

I take a few steps toward him, still crackling with energy. I haven't actually done anything yet, and he's all ready battered, bruised, and burned. He backs away from me and belches more goo on the ground.


This time, I jump into the air and try to hover. It takes concentration away from my shield. The spikes don't shrink, but they sag a little. Trying to distract him, I throw an energy ball, but the expression on his face changes.


I can see from my vantage point that the earthquake isn't very big. It only affects a circle about 15 or 20 yards across, the edge of which doesn't reach where he's standing. He wasn't shaking the ground under his feet, only under mine. I decide to try something new.

Staring at him, I mentally focus my energy behind him, moving toward him from back there. I pull at the energy that is in that area, and then push it toward him with as much willpower as I can muster. The effect is a strong gust of wind hitting him from behind. He keeps his footing, but his upper body falls forward, and his face slams into the ground. The wind breaks up before it gets to me.

He quickly rights himself, giving me a livid, hateful glare. His nose is bleeding heavily. He bellows at me and dissolves into a pulsating swarm of normal sized black wasps. The swarm expands, spreading out to surround me, and then they all dive in at once, bombarding me with vicious little attacks, hitting so hard that the impact of each one against my shield sounds like raindrops hitting a window. The horror of being overcome by a swarm of angry, stinging wasps is too much, and I find myself falling to the ground, trying to cover my head with my hands, even though not one sting makes it through the shield. I try to concentrate on adding energy to zap them, but it just won't move for me.

At this point, I'm thrown into a totally different experience. I'm about four years old, swinging on U-shaped  metal bar set into the end of one of those A-framed, back yard swing sets, at my parents' house. I can see them standing nearby, chatting with someone. I'm watching an odd little bug that is hovering in front of my knee. It's long and skinny, a little over an inch, shaped kind of like an ant, but with wings, and a more pointy butt. As I keep swinging, my knee is getting closer and closer to that bug. I think I want it to land on me.

Suddenly, I feel burning pain in my bare arms and legs as hundreds of them attack and begin stinging me. I hear my mother shriek at my father, and the two of them grab me, fighting off the bugs, and run toward the house.

The pain is really intense, and it draws me back to the fight. I don't know if I've dropped my shield because of the panic attack, or if they've broken through, but the stinging continues. The natural response of thrashing around kicks up a cloud of dirt, knocking many of the wasps away from me. I find more loose dirt and throw it into the air, hoping to make flight more difficult. I desperately reach for the nearest energy and focus on rebuilding my shield, but I'm afraid I'll trap some of them inside of it.

I take the energy into myself and then try to push it out in all directions in a totally unfocused blast, hoping to turn myself into a human bug-zapper. Instead, it comes out at first like sweat, creating a wet layer on top of my skin. Working with what I have, I harden that. The stinging stops. I put my back to a big rock and try to force myself to focus, despite having a case of the creepy-crawly-heebie-jeebies over all of these wasps. I can still feel them crawling all over the outside of that thin shell.

I close my eyes and picture just the rock that is behind me, how still and hard and solid it is. I find its energy and begin to draw on that. As I do, I can feel the shield getting thicker, until I can no longer feel the tickle of little bug feet on my skin. I'm about to work on the spikes, when I realize I can't hear the bugs any more, either. I open my eyes.

He's just a few inches away from my face, staring at me intently, like he's studying me or something. There is blood encrusted on his lips from his nose. He doesn't look angry any more. His expression is really hard to read. For a moment, I forget attacking, and just stare back at him, trying to analyze his face. I settle on possible curiosity. It's hard to tell.

"Doesn't that hurt?" He glances down at my red, bumpy, wasp-stung arms.

The question pisses me off. Of course it hurts! I'm sure he's aware of that. Why the hell is he asking me?

I throw back at him, "How about your nose?"

He says, "It's broken." His tone of voice sounds totally unconcerned. He might as well have shrugged his shoulders, and added "Meh..." to the statement.
He doesn't look extremely bothered by the pain, not like I am, but it occurs to me that if I'm able to hide that about myself, he probably can, too.

He reaches one hand out toward me, and I zap him. He jerks his hand back, sticks his finger in his mouth, and looks annoyed. I cross my arms. I'm a little stunned to see such a human gesture from him. I feel like a stubborn little kid standing up to a big bully. I set my jaw and draw more energy from the rock behind me.

He stands up, turns around, and walks several feet away from me, turns back, and shoves both hands toward me like we're in a pool, and he's trying to splash me. I don't see anything coming my way, but I feel something wash over me with incredible force. Everything I can see, except him, seems to be breaking apart and melting.

The next thing I know, I'm laying on the couch in my living room. It's dark, and I don't know what time it is. I'm not sure what that was about, but when it happened, I instantly woke up. I have the feeling I was shoved out of the dream state.


I called and talked to my mother about the part of the dream involving the swarm of wasps and the swing set. She said she was surprised I still remember that. I was only 4 when it happened, so it's been over 35 years. I told her I didn't remember, I dreamed it, and it seemed really real. According to my mom, there was a nest in the swing set. Each time I swung that U-shaped bar back and forth, it ground against the top bar, vibrating the nest. No one saw the wasps until they found me and attacked. 


No wonder they creep me out so much!

Spiders!

I am at my parents' house with my mother. It looks the way it did before the last twenty years of renovations. We have just finished putting something heavy away in Mom and Dad's room, and are about to head back to the kitchen. We still have to cook something before the guys get home.

Mom mentions that there have been more spiders around than usual lately, and I should watch out for them. When I open the door to leave the room, there in the hallway is one as big as a cat. It looks like a fat black garden spider, except for its size.

I shut the door.

Mom asks what's wrong, and I tell her about the spider. She is highly allergic to spider bites anyway, and I am sure that one this big would kill her. She asks if I can step on it, and I tell her how big it is.

In the closet, there is a huge can of bug spray, as long as my arm. Instead of a button to press, there's a pump in the back of it, like the old fashioned kind people used to use in their gardens. I grab that, and make Mom move away from the door. She is theorizing that the spider must have come up from the basement, as if it's normal for a spider that big to be anywhere in our house.

I hold the handle in one hand, and open the door with the other. The spider, which is in the same position it was the last time, twitches but does not do anything else. I swing the can up into position with the one hand, and grab a handle on its side (that was not there before) to aim it at the spider.

The spider turns to face me, and I blast it with the spray. It backs away. I advance, and spray again. The spider curls up on its back with its feet turned in. I motion mom to come out into the hallway.

I carefully approach the spider. It looks acid-burned, but nothing else the spray has hit does. I kick it, and it goes bouncing down the hall, without responding in any way. It is dead.

I turn to tell Mom the spider is dead, and see another huge spider in the corner over the door to the bedroom. Quickly, I grab her arm and draw her around behind me. I spray that spider, and it falls to the floor. It has yellow stripes, like a tomato spider. Its front legs fly up in the air, and it raises itself into a defensive position.

I spray it again, and it backs into the corner. It seems to be trying to use its front legs to wipe off the spray.

Mom and I back up, until we are standing in front of the doorway to the hall to my room, where there seem to be more huge spiders of various kinds. They are all over. We realize we need to get out of the house. I have chills. I'm really creeped out by spiders, but I'm more afraid one of them is going to bite my Mom.

I give the giant tomato spider one more shot with the spray, then pull Mom down the hallway toward the kitchen. There aren't any spiders in this hallway, but as we pass the bathroom, we can see an enormous wood spider sitting in the bathtub. Its legs hang over the sides. It twitches as we move past. As we pass the living room door, I see that the room is full of webs. There are at least seven spiders in there, and one of them is all red. Another looks like it might be a black widow, but I can't see its underside. We move into the kitchen, and I spray the walls and floor behind me in hopes that it will keep them from following. Oddly, no matter how much I use, the can continues to feel heavy and liquid inside it keeps sloshing around, so I'm not worried about running out.

In the kitchen, there are just as many spiders as in the living room, but they are all off to one side. There is at least a six foot buffer between us and the nearest web. Just in case, I spritz a little of whatever is in the can in that direction, hoping to deter them from coming any closer to us. The nearest spider retreats to the far side of its web and puts its legs up. At the same time, I hear a scrabbling sound behind us.

The big wood spider has climbed out of the tub, and I recognize the markings. It's not a wood spider, it's a wolf spider! Huge, dripping fangs hang down in front of its face. This is a hunter, and it has heard, or felt, our footsteps. It has stepped in the spray, and is sliding around on injured legs, but that won't stop it from coming after us. I spray a bunch in its direction, and yell for Mom to go out the door. She steps into the family room with me on her heels. I look over and see three fat jumping spiders across the room from us. Grabbing the door, I throw it open. We're going to be ok . We can get outside and shut the door, and they won't be able to get us. We can call an exterminator from someone else's house. I spray again behind me as I hear the scrabbling noise get closer, and then one of the jumping spiders jumps across the room at us. I spray it, too, and it jumps sideways onto the wolf spider. The wolf spider bites it, and Mom goes out the door into the sunlit and fortunately empty back yard. I turn to follow her, and hear a sucking sound behind me. I realize that the wolf spider is eating the jumping spider. A second jumping spider leaps onto it and attacks it, then springs backward as it gets burned by the poison that is now covering it. I step out the door and pull it closed.

Mom and I run to the middle of the yard, look up, and see her renters standing on top of the family room roof. There is a spider between them and the only way down - the tall, narrow UHF antenna tower mounted into the sidewalk below. It's stalking them, circling around to try for an advantageous angle from which to strike. I yell for the mother, and throw her the spray. She catches it and sprays the spider, then tosses it back to me. She pulls her daughter onto her back, piggy-back style, and climbs down the antenna. The girl's leg is swollen, bruised, and bleeding.

I woke up before I could speak, and immediately felt like I had to go back and let them know what to do. I had thought I'd tell them to go get the girl to the hospital, and I'd wait in the yard with the spray for Dad and my brother, so they wouldn't go into the house. When they got there, we'd go to the neighbors' and call for help. At first, I felt worried because I wasn't there to help any more, but it only took moments to let go of the dream. I have some variation of the giant spider dream near the end of every summer, when the spiders start coming indoors because of the weather. My mother really is allergic to spider bites. Her allergy is severe and can be life-threatening. At Mom and Dad's house, spiders aren't allowed to be there. When we find them, we kill them. Mom even uses a repellent spray around the house and in the basement to cut down on the number of them that come in. Also, they don't have renters any more, and haven't since around 1982. The girl in the dream is my age, but in the dream I was an adult just as in real life, while she was about a 4th grader, the age she was when I last saw her before she and her mother moved away.

I am glad we live in a northern state, outside of the brown recluse area. I'm sure if we had those to worry about, this dream would be so much worse!