The Saving Dream

So for the last few nights I’ve been having nightmares. Not particularly horrid ones but just ones that make it nearly impossible to sleep. The ones that you wake up afterward not scared but serverly confused and/or angry. I never remember much of them, but I do remember the uncomfortableness of them all. This was probably the most absurd one.


I was in my bedroom—with all the mess and darkness. 100% realistic looking. I was in bed. Next to me, near my closet was a man and woman, they were fighting. Vicious punches and tearing at each other. There is no clear winner. They are just fighting. I didn’t do anything. I just watched. They weren’t hurting anything in the room (which is impossible as there isn’t room to swing a cat in there). They were just beating each other. Then he picks her up and holds her up high and shoves her to the ceiling. She instantly is unconscious and her dress begins to get wrapped up in the ceiling fan. She is going to die from this. I know this. Despite being the person who caused this, the man starts to try and save her and pull her down but she is very twisted in the fan. Her limp arm drops down from the fan with a billow of white chiffon fluttering behind it. I jump out of bed and rush to pull her down, to save her from the fan that will chop her unconscious self up and kill her. I reach and grab to set her free from the dress.

I wake up standing in the middle of my room, my hands are smarting, knuckles slightly bleeding and covered in dust. My bedsheet and blanket are completely wrapped around my feet and all I can think about is “Where is the woman? Did she die?” It was then that I realize that I am awake. The woman was a part of a dream and that I just jumped out of bed and stuck my hands into a moving fan. A MOVING FAN!

Sigh.

I told my dad this and he laughed. "Welcome to adulthood," he said and then he laughed some more, "A moving fan..."