so obviously, the blog is about dreams. my dreams to be exact. not the abstract ones that i'm supposed to have to guide my life, but the nonsensical/insightful ones that i live when my eyes are asleep. good thing my brain is always awake and that my memory has served me well. i hope to document as many of my deams as I can. I also want to try to document dreams that I had years ago, that are still vivid to me. This is one of those deams...
It starts off in my childhood home. I'm looking out my bedroom window, onto the backyard and pathway between the houses on the block. If you're not from the northeast - houses tend to have alleys/walkways between them. it's interesting.
anyway, i'm looking out the window when i realize how quiet the neighborhood is. this is very weird considering i lived in semi-urban part of northern NJ just 3 blocks from the hudson river. no planes landing at la guardia, no cars honking in the dead of night, no fighting/yelling from the neighbors, no rowdy "guests" at the strip club a few doors down. just silence.
my parents aren't home. no one is home, i'm completely alone. just then, everyone i know is walking down the pathway in nothing but towels. they look green and sickly to me. like zombies. they look up at the window and acknowledge seeing me, but no one says anything. they all file in to the house next door. the strange house where the older women used to live. the house that's been empty since they passed away. the house i'm scared of.
i decide to check it out. i run downstairs and into the backyard. i run through the gate and catch up with someone. they tell me to go home, that this isn't for me. i won't listen. i'm convinced that whoever is keeping these people away from me is reasonable and will listen to my request to return my friends and family so, i follow everyone into the house. i'm still confused why they're all naked wrapped in towels.
we're in the house. more green. green walls, air, people, everything. all of a sudden, the count walks into the room.
i can't breathe. it's him. it's that strange little man with the funny accent who won't stop counting. i hate him.
the count comes over and puts his arm around me. tells me how happy he is that i've joined them. takes me upstairs. i don't remember saying anything except "no". over and over again.
he straps me onto a metal slab, tells me it won't hurt a bit. as soon as i let him give me the shot (the needle is as big as my head! where did that needle come from!?), i'll be back with my family and friends. i struggle, the straps are too tight. i can't get out, and he's coming closer. all i can see are his teeth and that weird smile of his. the needle is about the break the skin.
i wake up in my dad's arms. i'm sweating from head to toe, and crying.
it's still strange that i remember it so vividly. this must have happened sometime in 1984.
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