Chris Miller
10-31-2011, 01:22 AM
I just dozed off about nine-thirty tonight, after a late supper of sausage, baked beans and deviled eggs. Yes, bad idea.
Anyway....this dream has the singular distinction of being one of the most pleasant, one of the most weird, and one of the scariest I've ever had, all rolled into one.
It started out on the third floor of a mansion, that as nearly as I could reckon, had eight floors. Some of the stairways were really weird and may have passed more than one floor, and some seemed to have two stairwells per floor. Yeah...
The mansion seemed to have been built around the turn of the 20th century, and still had all the original furniture and fixtures. It did have electric lights at least. The third floor was really interesting for a few reasons. There was a massive room in the center of it, maybe thirty yards long and fifteen wide, with pallets of boxes on the west wall, and a man with a forklift moving them around. The floor seemed to be made of gorgeous bronze tiles, maybe eighteen inches square each, and covered the whole floor. On the east end were what appeared to be somewhat dilapidated shacks built into the house. The roofs needed a lot of work.
That's where my dream started, on the third floor. The whole place gave me a giddy thrill, and I ran up the stairs to go exploring. I went all the way to the eighth floor. Everything up there was a bit dusty, but otherwise in excellent condition. At the east end of a corridor, I opened a door into a well-lit and well-maintained parlor with a sunken floor in the middle. There was an old lady and a little girl there, dressed in clothes appropriate to the early 20th century. I sat down on the edge of the higher floor next to a beautiful mahogany nightstand with gold fittings.
The old lady produced two large bottles of delicious spiced rum. We talked at great length and each finished off our bottles, but I have no idea what we talked about. She was really nice though. All the while the little girl just sat there playing with her teddy bear, humming a tune. My mother showed up at the door, carrying a baby that looked like my sister did when she was a baby, and said it was time to go. I followed her all the way down to the third floor, when all of a sudden my steps started to sound squishy. I looked down, and I had turned into a very attractive woman, and was wearing a rather strange-looking diving suit. I took off the flippers and boots. I must say, as a woman, I had really nice legs.
Anyway, I had this overwhelming urge to get back to the room on the eighth floor. I told my mother to go ahead and leave, and I'd catch up with them later. I still had my regular voice. On the way back up, I turned back into my old self. I got back to the parlor, and the old lady and little girl were still there. The little girl appeared to have aged three or four years, but nothing seemed amiss. Then a man showed up and introduced himself as Chaz. He was wearing a nice suit and tie, but looked like he hadn't shaved in about three days. He was a pleasant fellow, though. The old lady gave me a bottle of this lemon-flavored vodka, and produced one for herself. We chatted some more, and drank the whole bottles again. Neither one of us was affected by the alcohol.
The old lady disappeared, and Chaz and I left the room. The little girl closed the door behind us. We walked to the other end of the eighth floor, into a sort of trophy room. We talked guy talk for a while, and then a storm blew up outside. It was thundering and the wind picked up like a sonofabitch. I looked out the south window, and somehow my vision telescoped down into the driveway. There were several cars there, with my truck in the back, and all were rocking back and forth in the high wind. It must've been blowing close to a hundred miles per hour.
The little girl screamed from the parlor on the other end of the corridor, and Chaz and I went running to help her. A couple of doors on the north and south walls blew out and the wind pushed us back, slowing us down. Then Chaz disappeared.
I'm not entirely clear on what happened next, but I'm pretty sure I was blown out of the house. I ended up on my back in the middle of the road, unhurt, and it was night time. The wind and thunder had stopped, but it was still raining a bit. There weren't any clouds in the sky that I could see. My truck was there, and the roof had been ripped off and all the windows smashed. A towtruck was hooked up to it, but nobody was around. The little girl was there in the back seat, slumped over the same teddy bear, unmoving. I started crying, and after a while, the little girl smiled. I recovered immediately and looked at her, unable to speak or move. The more I looked, the more her smile looked like an evil smirk. I said, shakily, "Oh my God, are you alive?" She opened her eyes. They were a burning yellow. And she said, "Yes...I AM!" and rushed at me so fast she was just a blur. I screamed like hell, and just as she touched me, I woke up.
For just a few seconds, I sat there in the darkness. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw the little girl's reflection in my television screen.
Anyway....this dream has the singular distinction of being one of the most pleasant, one of the most weird, and one of the scariest I've ever had, all rolled into one.
It started out on the third floor of a mansion, that as nearly as I could reckon, had eight floors. Some of the stairways were really weird and may have passed more than one floor, and some seemed to have two stairwells per floor. Yeah...
The mansion seemed to have been built around the turn of the 20th century, and still had all the original furniture and fixtures. It did have electric lights at least. The third floor was really interesting for a few reasons. There was a massive room in the center of it, maybe thirty yards long and fifteen wide, with pallets of boxes on the west wall, and a man with a forklift moving them around. The floor seemed to be made of gorgeous bronze tiles, maybe eighteen inches square each, and covered the whole floor. On the east end were what appeared to be somewhat dilapidated shacks built into the house. The roofs needed a lot of work.
That's where my dream started, on the third floor. The whole place gave me a giddy thrill, and I ran up the stairs to go exploring. I went all the way to the eighth floor. Everything up there was a bit dusty, but otherwise in excellent condition. At the east end of a corridor, I opened a door into a well-lit and well-maintained parlor with a sunken floor in the middle. There was an old lady and a little girl there, dressed in clothes appropriate to the early 20th century. I sat down on the edge of the higher floor next to a beautiful mahogany nightstand with gold fittings.
The old lady produced two large bottles of delicious spiced rum. We talked at great length and each finished off our bottles, but I have no idea what we talked about. She was really nice though. All the while the little girl just sat there playing with her teddy bear, humming a tune. My mother showed up at the door, carrying a baby that looked like my sister did when she was a baby, and said it was time to go. I followed her all the way down to the third floor, when all of a sudden my steps started to sound squishy. I looked down, and I had turned into a very attractive woman, and was wearing a rather strange-looking diving suit. I took off the flippers and boots. I must say, as a woman, I had really nice legs.
Anyway, I had this overwhelming urge to get back to the room on the eighth floor. I told my mother to go ahead and leave, and I'd catch up with them later. I still had my regular voice. On the way back up, I turned back into my old self. I got back to the parlor, and the old lady and little girl were still there. The little girl appeared to have aged three or four years, but nothing seemed amiss. Then a man showed up and introduced himself as Chaz. He was wearing a nice suit and tie, but looked like he hadn't shaved in about three days. He was a pleasant fellow, though. The old lady gave me a bottle of this lemon-flavored vodka, and produced one for herself. We chatted some more, and drank the whole bottles again. Neither one of us was affected by the alcohol.
The old lady disappeared, and Chaz and I left the room. The little girl closed the door behind us. We walked to the other end of the eighth floor, into a sort of trophy room. We talked guy talk for a while, and then a storm blew up outside. It was thundering and the wind picked up like a sonofabitch. I looked out the south window, and somehow my vision telescoped down into the driveway. There were several cars there, with my truck in the back, and all were rocking back and forth in the high wind. It must've been blowing close to a hundred miles per hour.
The little girl screamed from the parlor on the other end of the corridor, and Chaz and I went running to help her. A couple of doors on the north and south walls blew out and the wind pushed us back, slowing us down. Then Chaz disappeared.
I'm not entirely clear on what happened next, but I'm pretty sure I was blown out of the house. I ended up on my back in the middle of the road, unhurt, and it was night time. The wind and thunder had stopped, but it was still raining a bit. There weren't any clouds in the sky that I could see. My truck was there, and the roof had been ripped off and all the windows smashed. A towtruck was hooked up to it, but nobody was around. The little girl was there in the back seat, slumped over the same teddy bear, unmoving. I started crying, and after a while, the little girl smiled. I recovered immediately and looked at her, unable to speak or move. The more I looked, the more her smile looked like an evil smirk. I said, shakily, "Oh my God, are you alive?" She opened her eyes. They were a burning yellow. And she said, "Yes...I AM!" and rushed at me so fast she was just a blur. I screamed like hell, and just as she touched me, I woke up.
For just a few seconds, I sat there in the darkness. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw the little girl's reflection in my television screen.