Figures my most vivid dream in days would feature a CHAINSAW

… And let’s not forget the maniac wielding said chainsaw.

Except, in this case — at least at one point — the chainsaw-wielding maniac was ME.

You again? Haven't you got anything better to do?

You again?

We were trapped inside a tall octagon of a building by a psycho maniac who was trying to make us like him by terrifying us into losing our minds.

We fled from floor to floor, looking for an escape. He was downstairs, below us, so our flight took us upwards at last to the very top floor, where we found a landing surrounded by eight doors leading into different rooms.

One of the doors was ajar. In the room beyond, someone was screaming. Heart exploding with each beat, I walked over to the door and pushed it further open to reveal a brightly lit operating room, its sterile white walls splattered with red. There was a man strapped to the operating table, and another man with a chainsaw busily cutting him in half. The man on the table — it was my boyfriend.

I shrieked. But how? He’d been right behind me. I whirled to look — but no, he was no longer among the small crowd who stood behind me, looking at me with hollow, pitying eyes.

I turned back to the operating room — but the maniac with the chainsaw was gone. My boyfriend was, too.

(Note: boyfriend not a real person — I’m happily married in real life.)

Later on in the dream, I found the chainsaw — and my boyfriend. Miraculously, he had survived the chainsaw’s bite and was running around with me trying to escape with only a roll of bandaging wrapped around his waist. Because he was injured (and because I found it first) I insisted on holding the chainsaw. I wanted my hands on it should the maniac jump out of the shadows at me. I could tell my boyfriend wanted to take it from me and that made me nervous — like he wanted to make sure that HE was better protected than I was.

We had a friend with us — a guy. He’d found a knife and a lighter. We suspected that all these things had been left purposefully by the maniac for us to find. Why??? We wondered. To give us weapons that might make us feel complacent, might make us think we had a fighting chance? Or to give us the chance to fight with each other for ownership of the weapons?

I know the bad guy is just trying to get us to kill each other — and I’m terrified he’s going to succeed.

After a great deal of effort we finally escape the octagonal building — and the outside world is even more terrifying than the prison we’ve just left. Everything is moving in creepy slow motion. Leaves are fluttering in the air, caught suspended in their eternal fall from branches down to the ground. The people walking along the sidewalk are moving equally slowly. It’s like I can’t notice them moving when I stare at them full on but when I glance away and look back I can tell they’ve moved slightly. It’s terrifying.

Later on, after I wake up and fall back asleep, I’m back with my boyfriend and the other guy. We’re hiding in a one-room building in the middle of a desert. The inside of the room is painted a bright robin’s egg blue. We know the bad guy is still chasing us — there’s no way we can shake him, and we can’t stay in the house because there’s no way he’s NOT going to check it out since it’s the only building in any direction for miles and miles.

We’re thinking about making a run for it when all of a sudden through a wide window we see a black line rising above the slope behind us. It’s an army and it’s bearing down on us fast.

It’s HIS army — and it’s coming to get us.

It’s too late to run, so we hide hopelessly in lame places in the bare one-room building. My boyfriend hides beneath a rug — the other guy hides in a closet. I crouch down beside the window, telling myself I’ll find a better hiding place soon, but first I have to get a better look at the bad guys. Because they look funny, they don’t look like soldiers on horses or even troops marching — these troops are crawling, men and women dressed in black crawling on their bellies along the ground, moving as fast as alligators.

Horrified, I back away from the window, planning to crowd into the room’s one closet with that guy — but then I realize that M2 is out there, my BABY is out there, and I fling open the door and run out into the desert to rescue him before the horde descends upon us.

I can hear my boyfriend and the other guy calling after me, but I don’t turn back to look.

… Next thing I know, we’re back together, running up sand dunes, moving at full speed and just managing to stay one dune ahead of the pursuing horde. I rescued my child, but now it’s M1 that’s with us, and I’m helping climb up the hard face of the sand dune we’re scaling. As I boost him up to the next handhold, I risk a look behind me. The horde is gaining — they’ll be on us before we get to the bottom of the sand dune we’re climbing. If only we could reach sanctuary in time!

And then we do.

At the top of the sand dune, we find a nice, hot, steamy hot tub with plenty of room for all of us. As soon as we dunk ourselves in the water, we’re automatically home free, the horde can no longer touch us. They can’t even come anywhere near us. So I spend the rest of my dream splashing in a hot tub with M1 and two strange men, one of whom is supposed to be my boyfriend.

Beats being cut in half by a chainsaw.

1 Comment

  • By barriesgirl, August 12, 2009 @ 2:36 pm

    And I thought my dreams were arranged in long narratives…very cool! If you ever have a chance check out one of mine. They have a tendency to be long and detailed, too.

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