What Writer’s Dream About… Or #JustMe #SylLit

I always have the most amazing dreams. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a writer and I have an overactive imagination or because my brain needs my hyperactive body to get some sleep and it has to wow me to keep me in REM in order to get things done.

Image result for greedily eating popcornEither way, when I decide to dream – or get some actual sleep, I go into these dream status wishing I had a bowl of popcorn.

I have mastered dreaming to the point where I can wake up from a dream, go to the bathroom and come back to bed to continue dreaming.

I also remake movies in my dream. They become my version of a movie or story scenario. My book Stealing Innocence came from a dream that I remade from a Johanna Lindsey book. (I can’t remember the book name right now)

And then I also redream dreams. I have replayed scenarios, life scenes and entire conversations in my dreams.

Last night I had a redream, but with a little bit extra.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jb1p9K8R4Iw

Trilogy of Terror was about a doll that comes to life when a necklace drops off of it. Terrorizes this woman for the night and then possesses her body.

I have had horrible dreams about the movie after seeing it about dolls terrorizing me in my dreams. It was the same dream over and over again.

In my dream, there’s this small collection of African dancing dolls.

Back then I don’t know what I did to make them activate, I can’t remember that far back, but they come to life and dance around attacking people, holding their mouths open and then vaporizing down their throat and possessing them.

I know, I don’t know where I get it from.

Last night, it was kind of like the same dream, except, around where all these African Statues were dancing (on a shelf in some apartment I don’t ever remember being in), there was this large African male doll with a spear. He was built and looked like a Ken Doll, but dressed like the Doll above in the horror movies.

Along with the dolls, were some carnival type dolls, a small merry go round, and other doll statues.

We were moving, I remember in the dream. My daughters were in this with me and we were somewhere we didn’t want to be.

So I asked them to help me back and warned them not to drop any of my dolls.

My youngest picked up the large black statue with only one hand. I panicked and followed her as she was walking over to the box, just swinging him along. In my thoughts, all I could think about was, “don’t let the spear fall out of his hand.”

Just as she was almost about the drop the doll in the box, the spear fell out of his hand and she almost dropped the doll.

I rushed over and saved him and put the spear back in his hand very quickly. I remember yelling at her for mishandling him and then I lovingly put the doll in the box.

She called me crazy over and acting too serious over stupid dolls.

I ignore her comment and told her I would pack the rest of the dolls.

Something happened and we stopped packing to do something else, but when I got back to packing again, it seemed hours later.

When I went over to the shelf where the dolls were, everything was on the shelf except the African Dancing Dolls. I didn’t think anything about it. I assumed I must’ve packed them in the box.

I gathered the other dolls all in one swoop and took them carefully over to the box where I had placed the larger doll, but then I noticed the larger doll wasn’t there and neither were the African Dancing Dolls.

I got distracted again as I put the other dolls in the box and the next thing I knew I was in bed. I was laying down and I heard a noise. I looked over and I saw the larger African Doll, but he wasn’t a doll anymore. There was this large man dressed like the doll at the end of my bed. I faded out.

Again time hurried up and it was the next day and I was at this like tea party and everyone was dressed in cream.

I was just coming in and spotted the back of a large black man. His head was shaped just like the doll.

He was dressed in a cream-colored suit and he came right up to me.

He looked like a young Denzel Washington from the movie Glory, but he was beefier.

I can’t even remember what we were talking about or what his name was. I do remember him introducing himself to me and us shaking hands and there was this electric between us.

I don’t know what it was, but I really liked him.

There was this time gap again. I was in another house sleeping next to him and I woke up. I don’t what home I was in, but I remember some of the walls on the interior of the place being brick.

I walked down the stairs and the dancers were there, Dancing around the box. They were real life and I suddenly knew my life was in danger. My youngest daughter was with me. I grabbed her hand and ran towards the kitchen to run out of the back door. (How I know there was a back door in this strange house, I have no idea.)

One of the dolls (now a grown woman) breaks off from the dance and chases us.

She catches up, tosses my daughter like a rag doll against the wall and then she’s trying to force my head back and my mouth open.

I’m fighting. I mean really fighting. I’m punching her in the side, yanking out her hair and trying to wrap my leg around hers to make her fall back.

She’s ordering me to give in.

I already know what’s going to happen if I do. Like I said, this was a redream and I remember them vaporizing and possessing bodies.

I push her away and start to run to my daughter, but the tall African man came down some back stairs in the kitchen. (Again I don’t know why I saw this and knew where he’d come down from) he was dressed in his African garb and he grabbed me, slammed me against the brick wall and got his hand around my neck, lifting me a foot off the ground.

“Hold her mouth open,” the woman said.

He looks at her and then he looks at me.

He’s not choking me and I’m begging him to put me down.

He has this look in his eyes as if he doesn’t want to do this and I could feel that this guy really loved me.

But his other hand raises up and starts to come toward my face.

I wake up.

Seriously I did.

That was the end of the dream.

It was really so weird and I didn’t know what to do with this.

I remembered it so vividly, I had to type it somewhere, so I was like, hey, I haven’t blogged a story in a while.

Let me do this.

I’m going to categorize this under dreams, so if I have another, I’ll certainly put it there.

I hope you enjoyed this one.

It rattled me when I woke up. That look in his eyes. So serious, so intense.

It was odd. But very entertaining.

By the way, you can watch Trilogy of Terror for Free with prime on Amazon, by clicking here

My brain tricked me into sleeping six whole hours. Made but glad.

Do you guys have interesting dreams?.

 

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