My Dreams of Last Night
Last night the dreams I had were like something out of a movie. It was morning, the air was crisp and I was at a petrol station. It was common news that there was a modern day Hannibal on the loose and for some unknown reason I knew who he was, and he was looking for me next. I waited and watched the men approaching a stationed officer for trivial reasons and then I saw him. A skinny kid, in a denim jacket, pale, with dark hair.
I don’t really remember how we started talking or why, but he somehow got me into his car and that was when I felt I lost all control. I knew that I was going to be killed and eaten by this unassuming skinny kid. I tried to talk my way out of his beat up old mini, but eventually I could see that he was not going to let me go.
So I jumped out of the moving car, I thought for sure that I was going to die. As I ran however, it felt like my legs were super sonic and as all dreams happen I naturally assumed that the beat up old car would catch me in no time. But it didn’t, and he got held up talking to someone.
The terror I felt was so acute. It was all I could do to stop from hyperventilating, but I was determined to save myself any way that I knew how. I saw a large black man and asked him if I could hide out in his house and seeing how desperate I was, he let me.
I randomly asked him how many wives he had and he said two. His house was decorated by his first wife a stylish black lady, and I saw the second wife vacuuming the floors, a menopausal white lady a little thick around her middle with auburn curls atop her head. I took all this in as I sprinted to the third and top floor of the house and climbed to the top of a bunk bed.
I waited. I just sat in the tower of the house looking out the window for the hannibal. I knew that he would be looking for me. I was surprised he had not caught me already.
From a slit in the curtains I saw him talking to a person on the street, and he happened to look up, and with super sonic vision he saw me, and threw a seemingly flaming rock that smashed the window, and all my composure was gone again.
I went down to meet him, terrified as I was. He had smashed through the front door and burglar gate and was roaring with rage. He was going to eat me.
All I remember after that was talking to myself, crying to myself trying to compose myself, when suddenly, I decided that I didn’t have to be eaten. Then my vision went black like an old television screen from the 90s and I ripped him apart limb by limb with my own hands.
My second dream was similar in that this huge dread locked man was known for hurting and killing in a mixed martial arts setting and had once before tried me, and I narrowly escaped ran away, but this time I fought hard even though I was scared to be killed and over powered I kept going back and every one cheered me on, and we ended up drawing, and then becoming friends.
Talk about violent dreams.