Recurring nightmare: Skinrider

This is one that I had recently, but because my schedule has been so messed up, I couldn't tell you when. It's a recurring dream, one I usually have when I'm tired, and in a lot of pain. I was really little the first time I had it, with the dream taking place in the first house where my family lived. We moved from that house when I was four, so it's likely the first time I dreamed about this monster, I was close to that age.

I'm in my room, putting laundry away. I'm home alone right now, but where the rest of my family has gone is not on my mind. I'm thinking about what I can get done before they get back, knowing that I have a couple of hours.

I turn to go down the stairs, and hear a noise down by the door. It sounds like there is someone moving around in my living room. At first, I don't panic about this, because when the neighbors in the next apartment go down the stairs, it sounds like there's someone hitting the wall. I think that maybe it's just one of them. Then, I remember that last week, an old lady opened our door and walked into our apartment looking for our neighbors. My husband had to argue with her for several minutes before she would accept that our apartment was just an apartment, not the landing at the bottom of the stairs to the one-bedroom next door. Maybe she is back, and that was what I have been hearing. She was pretty adamant last time... I am afraid this time she might get violent.

I decide to sneak to the edge of the stairs and peek around the wall, to see if I can see anything at the bottom of the stairway. The point of view won't give me much - it's a pretty narrow space - but from the right angle, if someone is standing down there, I'll be able to see feet and legs, and the person won't be able to see me. I carefully and slowly sneak over to the spot where I'm going to peek, listening the whole time to make sure I still hear the noises. I figure if it gets quiet, I've been heard, but the whole time, I can still hear movement.

I inch around the wall, carefully keeping my body obscured while I peek down the stairs. There, at the bottom, I can see a pair of bare feet and legs, extending on up beyond my vision. My stomach clenches in fear as I see them.

It's obvious that there is no skin on them.

Instead, I see gelatinous looking red flesh, glistening in the light so that I know it's moist. I can see blood vessels and tendons. As I'm reeling from the shock of what I've seen, the creature suddenly bends down faster than I can move, and stares up at me with huge, bulbous black eyes. Its whole body is just like its feet... skinless, moist, and glistening. I can see that it has a knife in one hand.

As soon as it spots me, it starts climbing up the stairs, growling and snarling, showing jagged, uneven rows of teeth in its over-sized mouth. It moves quickly, getting halfway up the stairs before I can even move. The only thing I can think of to do is run to the bathroom, where I shut and lock the door. I don't know how I know, but I know that this thing is here to steal my skin so it has something to hide inside of while it does terrible things that I would never do. It's not only going to kill me, it's going to kill me in a torturous way, and then afterward, it's going to make me look like some kind of monster.

In the bathroom, I look around for a weapon. I realize I'm not going to accomplish much with the safety razors. I dig in the cupboard and find Epsom salts.

The phrase "salt on an open wound" occurs to me. I start thinking of a plan, as I hear the creature shuffle down the hallway to the bathroom. I have a big cup in there that I use for rinsing the tub when I wash it out. I grab that, dump in some salts, and run water over them. I keep the bag of salts open.

Having not been able to run the water enough for it to get hot, I am not seeing the salts melt very fast, but enough has dissolved to do what I want. I stand back and let the creature break open the door. As soon as it steps into the bathroom, I throw the salt water on it. The creature screams, sounding like a colony of angry bats. I grab for the knife, but the creature pulls its hand away from me. It looks furious, using its free hand to try to wipe the salt water off of its skin. As it lurches toward me again, I throw a handful of dry salt, hitting it right in the face and chest. It screams again, and I take the opportunity to push it into the tub, so that its head smacks hard against the tiles. I dump the salt onto it as it continues to thrash and scream in the tub, then I run down the stairs to try to get out of the apartment. As I get to the bottom, I realize I forgot to disarm the creature. Turning, I see that it's all ready at the top of the stairs, crawling across the carpet, heading for the first step down. I've slowed it down a bit, but it is still determined to get me.

I open the door and run down to the street, where I start screaming for help, but no one seems to be around. I turn and head for the corner, leaving my door open, hoping to find traffic so that if the thing attacks me, I'll be seen. I don't want to run too far, because the thing might still be there when my husband and son get home, and I can't let it hurt them, either.

When I get to where there is traffic, the creature is right behind me, stumbling along with that knife. Now, people can see what is happening, but no one is stopping to help. I stop and turn around, realizing that I'm going to have to fight. The creature slashes at me with the knife, and I try to dodge, but it catches me on the arm, leaving a long gash. I kick at it, and it jumps back away from me. I grab a rock and throw it, just missing the creature. It lunges at me, and I grab it by the arms. Its flesh is warm, wet, and squishy, and I have trouble holding on.

It tries to stab at me with the knife, and I throw it to the side, out into traffic, right in front of a city bus. The bus driver slams on the breaks, but still ends up hitting the creature. Blood splatters everywhere, and the knife goes clattering down the street, landing yards away. People come running now, yelling and pointing. I'm grabbed by two men, who seem to think I've assaulted an innocent person, despite my protests that he was attacking me with a knife, and the fact that his weird face is clearly visible. As the crowd gathers around me, I can see through some of the spaces between them that the creature is still moving.

It's starting to get back up.


This is one of those nightmares, after which, it just starts out feeling like my whole day is going to be bad, you know?

Recurring nightmare: Indefensible

I haven't been sleeping much lately. My schedule is way weird right now - working night shift for two weeks at the job I'm leaving, so that I can work days at my new, lower stress job. There isn't much room for sleep. I've had broken dreams, odd things that seem to disappear as soon as I wake, and one really upsetting one I can't really express. So, here's one that I've had many times before, and will probably have again.

I'm at an event. I'm not sure exactly what is occurring, but the area in which it is happening includes a big portion of the small town where I grew up. There seem to be multiple things going on, including a cross-country race that winds around the entire grounds.

On the ground in front of me is a great big guy. He's battered, severely injured, and unconscious. I know that I'm the one who did it, but I don't know why. I feel like I was pushed or trapped into it doing this, but I know I'll still be held accountable for it regardless, because from the appearance of his injuries, I didn't stop beating on him right away after he was down.

There are people nearby who heard the fight and are coming to see what is wrong. I back away rapidly from the man, trying to hide in the bushes before they see me. I realize I'm covered in his blood. If I don't get out of here, I'm going to be in huge trouble. I run away from the scene, barreling through a maze of snack trailers and equipment until I reach an area that seems to be outside of the event. If I can get a little further away, I might be able to make it home without being detected.

I hide between trashcans to avoid a police car driving by, then run down a series of alleyways toward my parents' house. The whole time, I'm sure someone is following me, but I can't see anyone. Finally, I get there, only to find that my whole family has gathered in the kitchen and is waiting for me. When I enter the house, they lecture me and say they are ashamed of what I've done. I beg them not to say that, telling them that what happened wasn't something I planned ahead, or even did on purpose, just a response to a situation that was inflicted upon me by the victim.

My father tells me that the man died from his injuries, that I punched him so hard in the chest that I stopped his heart. There are tears in Dad's eyes, and he asks me, "Do you have any idea how much force that takes?"

I don't know, but I figure it's a lot. I am filled with dread, realizing I've taken a life. The horror of it doesn't all dawn on me at once... at first, I just feel sorry that the man is dead, and guilty over being the cause. Then, I realize that there will be others affected by his death, people who loved him. And having killed him is a terrible crime. I'll be convicted and sentenced. I could even be sentenced to die as punishment, even with extenuating circumstances. As the reality of the situation begins to weigh on me, my family advances upon me and I understand that they mean to turn me in to the authorities. I turn to run, head out the door, and flee across the yard, pursued by everyone.

This is when I usually wake, feeling despondent, thinking about what to do next and how to survive, knowing that I would either have to hide forever, or turn myself in and face the criminal justice system. Upon waking, this dream stays with me, usually for at least a day, sometimes two or three, causing a sense of impending doom, and strong feelings of guilt, anxiety, and depression.