The shaking eyes

Age seven. Nightmare.

I was running around the street of barrington in this dream, playing on the sidewalk. It felt just as if I was awake. I ran in and out of the old house, looking at Grandpa's paintings. Then I wanted to get out of the house, which suddenly felt so oppressive that I couldn't breathe.

I could hear my parents shouting from upstairs. I ran out of the house, down stairs that didn't exist for that house, and out into the sidewalk.

When I went to the sidewalk, my father's father--Yie Yie--was standing there in front of our neighbour's house. I looked at him and froze. His body was convulsing, his mouth was foaming. His eyes were shaking, changing colour in the sockets--not like the irises were changing colour, but the whole eyeball. He spoke words I didn't understand and was falling apart, and I was terrified. I wanted to go help him but I had no idea how to even walk to him because my feet stopped working. His eyes went from cyan to magenta to yellow to orange to blue to red to white to nothing.

I woke up in cold sweat. Downstairs grandfather was sitting and reading the Chinese newspaper, and when I hugged him tightly he was very confused.

The rape of the dragons

Age 17. Nightmare. This dream was dreamed on February 28th, 2011.

Copied from my art blog:

"I was running with the Ensemble. I think I was Colleen. Maybe it was that I'd been thinking about her for her birthday (the 22nd of February), but I was her, and I was flying while being buffeted by the wind. I was killing dragons.

Maddie kept screaming something. In my dreams I see her a lot, screaming always, pointing and warning me of danger ahead, her red hair billowing. Silver was hitting the dragon, Skye was dancing below it with daggers in her hands; I don't know where Valor and Aidan were. And Yoshua would not be there; he had refused to hunt them with us.

I think Lale was there, but not wholly. I could feel him at the edge of my vision.

He doesn't exist in my dreams where there is a lot of light.

These dragons were not good. Ethically, they were not good. They were not sentient; they did not think. They were cruel and unjust and fought for the sake of fighting, killed for the sake of killing. I was flying and panting and there was so much sunlight in these marble-pillared ruins that I felt ill. Chaotic grass littered between the fallen Roman pillars, dropping off into a sheer cliff into Poseidon's sea. But I kept fighting them amidst blue sky, white clouds, and crumbling rocks. There was nothing in my hands; I commanded my friends below, and killed with a thought.

Somewhere after we killed a red-scaled, slithering dragon, it writhed and shot a beam of fire. I saw Lale then, just a dark shadow, slicing it's belly open, but I saw a claw come down to crush him, so I shouted. The shout tore the dragon's talons in two.

I felt something extremely heavy slam into my side. I careened and tumbled forward and was flung into darkness.


When I woke up I was on a yellowed street in the dark, lit with nothing but street lamps. The yellow stung my eyes. I was afraid. I kept trying to call the Ensemble, dashing between buildings, knowing that they were also frantically looking for me. At home (oh, home) they were celebrating the defeat of the dragons, yet Maddie kept anxiously calling out for me, also searching in the darkness. I spoke to myself to drive the fear away. Come this way, they won't follow you here. Stop. Run. Go.

But something was chasing me--dragon riders? Who knows? There was a girl with blackened eyes and skinny limbs like a jack-in-the-box, wearing monochrome clothing, twins with red flaming hair and wide grins, and a man with short silver hair and wide shoulders and a malevolent smile. That was all I remember of them. There were many.

I kept running between the buildings, my heart beat crashing like a dying bird in my chest. I felt naked, vulnerable. I could not fly. I think my wings were broken. Colleen's wings, at least. I was pretty sure I was dreaming as her.

And then they cornered me at a school building. The silver-haired man grabbed me, slammed me up against the wall with these bright, grabbing things, like a mass of white shadows. The jack-in-the-box girl was laughing hysterically, like it was the greatest joke, and I saw the red of the twins pop like a bubble of blood. The man was upon me and I watched him as he rammed into me, and spears of pain shot through my womb, and he was laughing too.

And then they were screaming and screaming, and I felt no more fear. There was pain and nausea in this dream, even though the pain was muted. I collapsed on the ground, too tired to move. They were screaming and running because he was here. He tore the darkness to pieces with his own darkness, his eyes black with rage. He gathered me--her, now. I was no longer her, expelled at the height of her pain, the rape. I was watching them, anxious and relieved that he found her. She was crumbled in his arms, barely breathing, weeping, and he kissed her brow and held her close.

Lale found her, a minute too late. But he would be there to sew her back together.

What a strangely romantic dream.

Sorry, Leen. I put you through something weird again. XD No rest, even in my sleep, hmm?"

The violet ghost

Age seventeen, strange dream.

This dream was last night's dream.

I was running through Castle town--it was a very crowded, dirty, and dingy place, filled with scraps of colour amidst swaths of oppressing gray. I could hear people shouting as the evening market was drawing to a close. In my dream, it was night time and it was getting colder, and I was looking for someone very specific.

I was running down an alley between two brick buildings, shivering in the dampness. I stopped in front of a stall, shouting "Cat soup!"

In the cauldron that the woman was stirring, cat heads stared at me, all of their eyes green. There were tabbies and spotted kittens and cats, all of them with their flesh open to the boiling water, all of them looking up at me. One of the cats shook it's head and meowed in a warning, pointing to the back.

Aaron was sitting amidst the living cats, stroking their fur and holding them to him. He wasn't the one skinning them and killing them, only speaking to them softly. He looked up at me and his face bloomed into a very beautiful smile, and he looked like he missed me. He said "You're alright!" as if I had been in danger, and I felt sick to my stomach, because I really was in danger. Aaron let me sit down beside him and hide in the cats, all who watched out for me--but slowly they were getting cooked by the woman who sold them as soup. They did not look resentful, only solemn and alert, and I felt only a slight wallowing sadness when they were pulled away from me.

I crept out of the alley, heart pounding, looking up and out at the gate of Castle town. There were so many more gates--it was like a repetitive wall, one lined up after the other. I felt safe in there, but I knew that something was looking for me.

All of a sudden this violet tendril grabbed my foot. It dragged me out of the gate, one, then two, then three. I screamed for help for just a second; suddenly I was the princess, terrified, not helpless but definitely helpless in that situation. But then the scream stopped, and I felt furious. I pulled a sword out from my rib, and cut the violet ghost that was trying to take me away.

I kept pulling backwards, back into the gates, and the ghost followed me as I backed away, looking and laughing at me. It was a swarthing, magenta-lavender mist in the gray of my dreams, and it advanced on me.

I cut it. Once. Twice. Then it was gone. Then these crystal skeletons charged through the gates, glittering light blue and without visible skulls, but I cut those down, retreating farther into the gate and farther into the castle. I shook with delight, feeling the chorus of happy voices around me spur me on as I protected the place with my sword.

Then I took the remains of the violet ghost, and started shaping it with my hands. Suddenly, a cake of brown and lavender formed between my fingers--higher and higher, it was plain and undecorated at first, but the cake grew like a staircase climbing up. The icing was lavender, like the ghost.

A little fairy--some kind of little person, at the side of my vision, floating in the grayish sky, excitedly laughed and said "We're almost ready!". It started to decorate the cake with fruit, making it go higher. The cake was sagging under the weight.

The people started eating the cake, cutting from the top down. And for some reason, I didn't eat. I only backed away as the scene faded into darkness, feeling at peace and empty and knowing that I will sleep more.

Then I woke up, after a stagnant period of darkness.