It's dark, and I'm running. I don't know what's behind me, only that if it catches me, I'm going to wish I were dead. Terrified, I pick up the pace, trying to lift off from the ground, but the oppressive atmosphere seems to be holding me down. A tree root reaches up and snags my ankle, tripping me. I go down hard, smacking my face on the packed dirt of the path, and I hear a familiar laugh behind me. Turning, I realize it's not a monster. It's him, not someone I have to fear. I sit up and reach out, sobbing with relief as he wraps his arms around me, telling me it's all right now. He's not going to let anyone take me. I only have a moment to feel safe before he sinks his teeth into my throat, and I realize the mistake I've made.
I'm jolted out of the nightmare, waking in my room, tucked under the covers and surrounded by darkness. Sitting up, I look at my alarm clock. It's past time to get up. I'm going to be late, and everyone will be mad. I jump out of bad and dig for my clothing, intending to drag it all on at top speed. I hear a noise behind me as I grab for things. Turning, I see him standing in the doorway. He asks what I'm doing, reminds me what day it is, and I feel silly for panicking. I don't have to be anywhere. It's tomorrow that I have to get up early. He crosses the room quickly, pulling me into a gentle hug, telling me he came in because it sounded like I was crying in my sleep.
As I hesitantly tell him the nightmare, he responds with soft kisses to my forehead and words of comfort and reassurance, that he would never let anything hurt me. When I finish talking, he kisses me deeply, taking away the last vestiges of the night's terror. Feeling better, I lay my head on his shoulder, briefly opening my eyes as the sun starts to come up. He's there, standing in the doorway, shock and hurt on his face as he watches me holding onto someone else.
I turn toward the monster in my arms. It's laughing. I shove, then push energy into my hands, jolting it over and over until it's burnt to a crisp, nearly blinded by tears of shame and horror at the realization of what I've been kissing crashes over me. I turn to run to him, but he turns away from me and begins to walk away, shoulders slumped, sadness in the voice that floats back to me, "If you ever really loved me, you'd have known the difference." I run after him, but by the time I reach the doorway, he's gone.
In his place is the monster I was just attacking. I turn and look, and there on the floor in my room is my love, crumpled in a heap, his final pain still showing in his dying eyes. My shoulder is clutched in a huge hand. I feel myself spun around by the force of it, to face my attacker. The monster draws back and punches me hard in the chest.
I woke from this with pain in my chest, and palpitations like I haven't suffered in years. I have an irregular heartbeat, but it's been determined that it's non-life threatening. It doesn't usually hurt.
For several moments, I could hardly breathe as my chest alternately pounded and squeezed. I focused my mind on it slowing down, slowly forcing one breath at a time using a breathing technique that is normally for singing, pulling the air in with my belly instead of my shoulders because I couldn't get my chest to expand.
Finally, the feeling passed, and everything settled, but that was really scary. I probably should go to the doctor, but the last time this happened (and it has been a few years,) they couldn't find the cause, and I have no insurance, so I'm not going to be able to afford it.
Anyway, the pain is gone, and now all that's left is the guilt of having not been able to distinguish which character in the dream was whom. I can't seem to shake that.
Oh, and for the record... I don't even have an alarm clock. When I need an alarm, I use my phone.
Showing posts with label doppelganger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doppelganger. Show all posts
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?
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: Doppelganger
When I was really young, I started having dreams about running into an exact or nearly exact, but wholly evil copy of myself. There are a few specific ones I remember, but I also remember that the theme was a frequent occurrence. I still have doppelganger dreams now, but they are much more rare than back then.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I am in the kitchen with my Mom. She sends me to get something from my room. I go down the hall past the bathroom, turn, and go down the hall to my room. The door is closed. That's odd, because normally I don't keep it closed, but I dismiss it. I open it to go in and get what I am after.
When I open the door, I see myself sitting on the bed across the room from me. Sitting with my other self is my mother. My other self looks upset, as if she's been crying, and she is snuggled up to my mother. I realize that can't be Mom, either, because she's out in the kitchen. The realization of that actually is scarier to me than the sight of my double. Then, my double gets off of the bed and begins slowly walking toward me, her jaws working hungrily. I back out of the room and shut the door. I run back down the hallway. I hear the door open as I near the end of the hall. I turn to see the doppelganger standing right behind me, mouth opened further than it should be. One physical difference between us is that her teeth are like shark's teeth; there are rows and rows of them, and they all come to a point. I try to push her away and she grabs my hand and bites my finger.
The pain woke me. I am pretty sure that the cause for this dream was the pain of a broken finger, which I remember happened when I was in the second grade. By the time I was in high school, that finger was starting to show signs of osteoarthritis. My other fingers are doing the same now that I'm almost 40, but that one got a 20 year head start. I'm guessing the head start is was caused by the injury.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I'm in my room. I've been sitting and reading, and I'm getting kind of hungry. I think I'll go get a bite to eat. I get up out of the beanbag I'm sitting in, and turn to leave my room. As I turn, my eyes catch the tall mirror on the dressing table at the other end of my room, near the door. My reflection looks wrong. It takes a moment to realize that it's because the hair color is wrong. I have dark brown hair, and the girl in the mirror is blond. I move closer, and notice that she also has really, really pink eyes... and sharp teeth. She's baring them at me.
I bolt toward the door, which takes me right past that mirror. As I run, the doppelganger runs toward me in the mirror. I'm terrified. I run out the door. As I cross the threshold, I feel something tug at the back of my shirt, but it lets go. I slam the door, hard, and there is a thud on the other side.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It's mostly a normal day. I have errands to run. I have things to deliver, things to pick up, and people to check on. I go about my normal routine, write down my list, and lay it on the kitchen table. I get my breakfast together and grab something to read while I'm eating.
When I'm done with breakfast, I reach for the list, but it's gone. It's not just not where I put it. It's also not on the floor nearby, not on any of the chairs, not in the trash, and not in my pocket. It occurs to me that maybe, without thinking, I used it as a bookmark . I can see myself telling my friends about that later and laughing. However, it's not there, either. The paper has just vanished.
I'm frustrated by the loss, but I guess it's no big deal. I decide that I don't have time to write the list again, but writing it the first time kind of fixed the stops in my memory.
The first place I'm going is to pick up a check at the newspaper. I have to cash it before I can run my other errands, or I won't be able to cash it until tomorrow. When I get there, the secretary tells me I was all ready there earlier, and picked it up then. I know that I wasn't, and think that maybe my Mom picked it up. We look a lot alike.
I head home, but she's not there. My brother is up, though. He tells me I'm too late to apologize for what I said earlier, that I'll have to wait until she comes home. I don't know what the heck he's talking about, but I don't have time to deal with it right now. I have to deliver something to a friend for a school related project, and she's only going to be at home for a couple of hours between activities today. I head to her house.
When I get there, my friend is unhappy with me. She says we're done talking about it, and not to try to fix things. When I ask what she's talking about, she tells me I was just there and told her I don't have the item for her project. I tell her that's impossible, that I just came from home, and I have the object right here. I hand it to her. She acts like I'm either crazy, or trying to make her feel like she is. We part on kind of edgy terms, but agree to just call the situation weird.
This continues for all of my errands; every place I go, I'm told that I was just there a few moments earlier, and had done or said something to upset the person or people involved in the errand. If I was supposed to pick something up, it's been taken. If I was supposed to deliver something, it's no longer expected. Everyone on my list looks at me like I'm an absolute nut.
The whole day, I am a step behind my double, never running into her, always running into the fallout from whatever it is she did. At the end of the list, I go home. When I walk in the door, my whole family is in the kitchen, talking worriedly. They all turn to look at me with surprise. I ask what's wrong, and my brother asks me how I got there. When all I can do is give him a confused look, he tells me we all just had a huge fight, and I locked myself in the bathroom. I hear the bathroom door slam open, and everyone jumps and stares in that direction. I get chills, worrying about what I'm going to see come down the hallway from there.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The second one first happened when I was in about the 5th grade. We'd just moved me into an upstairs bedroom, and I wasn't used to sleeping up there. The third one started when I was in high school. There were more, but those three are dreams I had more than once, and which have stuck with me for a long time.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I am in the kitchen with my Mom. She sends me to get something from my room. I go down the hall past the bathroom, turn, and go down the hall to my room. The door is closed. That's odd, because normally I don't keep it closed, but I dismiss it. I open it to go in and get what I am after.
When I open the door, I see myself sitting on the bed across the room from me. Sitting with my other self is my mother. My other self looks upset, as if she's been crying, and she is snuggled up to my mother. I realize that can't be Mom, either, because she's out in the kitchen. The realization of that actually is scarier to me than the sight of my double. Then, my double gets off of the bed and begins slowly walking toward me, her jaws working hungrily. I back out of the room and shut the door. I run back down the hallway. I hear the door open as I near the end of the hall. I turn to see the doppelganger standing right behind me, mouth opened further than it should be. One physical difference between us is that her teeth are like shark's teeth; there are rows and rows of them, and they all come to a point. I try to push her away and she grabs my hand and bites my finger.
The pain woke me. I am pretty sure that the cause for this dream was the pain of a broken finger, which I remember happened when I was in the second grade. By the time I was in high school, that finger was starting to show signs of osteoarthritis. My other fingers are doing the same now that I'm almost 40, but that one got a 20 year head start. I'm guessing the head start is was caused by the injury.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I'm in my room. I've been sitting and reading, and I'm getting kind of hungry. I think I'll go get a bite to eat. I get up out of the beanbag I'm sitting in, and turn to leave my room. As I turn, my eyes catch the tall mirror on the dressing table at the other end of my room, near the door. My reflection looks wrong. It takes a moment to realize that it's because the hair color is wrong. I have dark brown hair, and the girl in the mirror is blond. I move closer, and notice that she also has really, really pink eyes... and sharp teeth. She's baring them at me.
I bolt toward the door, which takes me right past that mirror. As I run, the doppelganger runs toward me in the mirror. I'm terrified. I run out the door. As I cross the threshold, I feel something tug at the back of my shirt, but it lets go. I slam the door, hard, and there is a thud on the other side.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It's mostly a normal day. I have errands to run. I have things to deliver, things to pick up, and people to check on. I go about my normal routine, write down my list, and lay it on the kitchen table. I get my breakfast together and grab something to read while I'm eating.
When I'm done with breakfast, I reach for the list, but it's gone. It's not just not where I put it. It's also not on the floor nearby, not on any of the chairs, not in the trash, and not in my pocket. It occurs to me that maybe, without thinking, I used it as a bookmark . I can see myself telling my friends about that later and laughing. However, it's not there, either. The paper has just vanished.
I'm frustrated by the loss, but I guess it's no big deal. I decide that I don't have time to write the list again, but writing it the first time kind of fixed the stops in my memory.
The first place I'm going is to pick up a check at the newspaper. I have to cash it before I can run my other errands, or I won't be able to cash it until tomorrow. When I get there, the secretary tells me I was all ready there earlier, and picked it up then. I know that I wasn't, and think that maybe my Mom picked it up. We look a lot alike.
I head home, but she's not there. My brother is up, though. He tells me I'm too late to apologize for what I said earlier, that I'll have to wait until she comes home. I don't know what the heck he's talking about, but I don't have time to deal with it right now. I have to deliver something to a friend for a school related project, and she's only going to be at home for a couple of hours between activities today. I head to her house.
When I get there, my friend is unhappy with me. She says we're done talking about it, and not to try to fix things. When I ask what she's talking about, she tells me I was just there and told her I don't have the item for her project. I tell her that's impossible, that I just came from home, and I have the object right here. I hand it to her. She acts like I'm either crazy, or trying to make her feel like she is. We part on kind of edgy terms, but agree to just call the situation weird.
This continues for all of my errands; every place I go, I'm told that I was just there a few moments earlier, and had done or said something to upset the person or people involved in the errand. If I was supposed to pick something up, it's been taken. If I was supposed to deliver something, it's no longer expected. Everyone on my list looks at me like I'm an absolute nut.
The whole day, I am a step behind my double, never running into her, always running into the fallout from whatever it is she did. At the end of the list, I go home. When I walk in the door, my whole family is in the kitchen, talking worriedly. They all turn to look at me with surprise. I ask what's wrong, and my brother asks me how I got there. When all I can do is give him a confused look, he tells me we all just had a huge fight, and I locked myself in the bathroom. I hear the bathroom door slam open, and everyone jumps and stares in that direction. I get chills, worrying about what I'm going to see come down the hallway from there.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The second one first happened when I was in about the 5th grade. We'd just moved me into an upstairs bedroom, and I wasn't used to sleeping up there. The third one started when I was in high school. There were more, but those three are dreams I had more than once, and which have stuck with me for a long time.
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