more dreams

Dreams
Current mood: restless
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

Marion and I entered the wooden house, where the only light was from the moon and was broken into ghastly shapes by shadows.

We were exhausted, had been traveling forever it seemed, and needed a place to rest. Not a moment after we entered Marion was collapsed on the couch, sound asleep. I took a moment and adjusted to our surroundings. Whispers reached my ears and out of the corners of my eyes I saw things moving that shouldn’t have been. I struck me that the house was haunted.

I walked through the living room into an adjacent corner in a dining hall. I felt, for some reason, that although through the rest of the house spirits were actively making themselves known, this corner, this ledge, was safe.

I laid my head down on the ledge and moved my body into a position of rest. Through exhausted eyes I noticed two small statues were sharing the ledge with me. They seemed miles away but I could make out the shapes in the shadowy moonlight of a man in his 20’s, dressed in a white shirt and a black vest, tuxedo pants, with his arm outstretched, his fingers pointed towards me. A girl obviously of Spanish origin stood behind him, a small figurine, carved with a red, slinky, to the floor gown of simple silk. She had a worried expression on her face...and as I drifted off to sleep, I heard a voice speak to me as if in a dream.."beware of the prince, he comes when you least expect him...*

I came bolting out of sleep wide awake as if someone had poured cold water over my head. I knew I had to wake up at that exact moment or something aweful would happen, I looked up and almost touching my knees on the ledge, inching towards me slowy were the two figurines, the male one leading, fingers pointed towards me...I tried to move myself off the ledge quickly but it was too late; reality swirled and I entered another world..that of the prince and his spanish queen.

Now I find myself in a different reality. I’m at some kind of party, it seems to be a party that is occuring before a wedding, instead of after, for some reason. I’m in a small dancing hall, in a house of not of gigantic portions, but a large house, wooden, and there are people surrounding me. I see, across the hall, through the couples arm and arm, a man, the prince, who it seems, isn’t a prince at all but the would-to-be groom, and he’s getting drunk, and laughing, and seems to want to cause some chaos. It hits me that he’s not in love with his would-be-wife, and that he’s getting out of control drunk with some secret wish to ruin the wedding before it will occur. All of this occurs to me in a moment no longer than a few seconds, then his eyes come to rest on me, and at the same time I realize I’m dressed all wrong for this party, in a slinky red silk dress, and my hair, it’s dark, spanish dark....

He grabs me in his arms and spins me through the waltzing crowd, not paying any attention to the rules of the dance, spinning me, twirling me, and I find myself, like in all dreams, like in all seperate distant realities, not entirely in control or understanding of my actions, because of course I am me, but I’m not...and I’m laughing, laughing in his arms, I know it’s wrong, it’s all wrong, there is his fiance, in her white dress, watching me, her wine almost spilling out of her tilted cup, her hand seems to have forgotten it as she views the scene before her, a harlet in a red dress spinning her future farther and farther away from her.

Now I’m in his bedroom, and he wants to show me something, urgently, fumbling he opens the closet door and reaches into a box, he’s pulling out something, what is it...but I know already because I know how this story will end. He’s pulling out fireworks, and a candle, for lighting. And I know he’s naive to the end of it all because he thinks he’s living this out for the first time. But I know, through some divine intelligence that this poor statue lives out this story every night, again and again, same ending, which results in his death. I know if he takes out the fireworks, and the candle, he will light it near an aluminum can of gasoline, and blow himself up in the process. Yet here he is, urgently showing me what he intends to do, and he doesnt even know that his endless, repeatable death is in store. I reach up, distracting him with my words and grab the candle from his hand, trying to change something in fate, in the future of this prince, something to save his life, change the story. He doesnt notice my actions but as sure as I am alive, it changes everything.

We go ouside and the story proceeds. I sit on a chair on the porch and I know that this Spanish girl has already fallen in love with this prince. He is drunk, though sobering up a little and he is eager for me to watch the display he has planned. Completely ignoring now the rules of engagement, which would place him inside with his soon-to-be wife, his attention is only on creating more chaos.

He reaches down and from some source pulls out a light. I still feel reasurred because i hold the death candle in my palm. He lights the firework near the aluminum can. It goes off, I hold my breath, nothing happens...the second one soon follows, its a five firework show, one should race quickly after the next into the sky for its turn in the display...

He has backed away from them to watch, but there is a problem, what’s this?

The third one wont go off, it’s stuck, I see him as if in slow motion moving toward the can, the flame, and I jump up to run to him, desperate to save his life....I see my own destruction before me...

And this would be the end of the dream if I ever died in my dreams. However, I have never died in any of my dreams, and I tend to find a way to end them on a happier note.

The end of this dream is truly anti-climatic...

somehow neither one of us die in the explosion, yet the chaos is enough to cause major confusion, during which we escape in an old pickup, hand in hand, and drive off to our new life together. there is a part later on where we drive down a hispanic street and we see a sign over a club that says "gringo night, saturday." the prince isnt used to our world and askes me to explain what gringo means, and i tell him "white people"...this part makes me laugh a lot.