Dream Journal

Dec 16. - Opening the Wrong Door

*Spiritual warning I guess? I will reference religious beliefs of mine in this story, so if you don't like that, you've been warned*

As usual, my dreams tend to time skip, teleport me into different situations, all with hazy in-betweens. 

Somehow, my dream started out with me standing outside of my house on the concrete outside the back door as, for some reason, a collection of teenage male athletes were using our property. One boy came out first, alone. He was African-American and had black hair that was tightly strung into a bit of a square cut with the sides handsomely shaved. His face was strung into a flirtatious smile and I awkwardly talked with him for a while nervously. 

Pretty people intimidate me, okay?

I don't even remember the conversation, but when someone pretty talks to someone, sometimes a weaker person may fall victim to their magnetic charm. Luckily, before anything could jump past simple small-talk, the rest of the athletes, loud and laughing, came and surrounded their friend, separating us. At the time, I felt a bit disappointed, but now as I type this, I must recognize that I definitely wasn't operating in the right state of mind.

Time-skip. Hazey. I think I saw a chicken somewhere.

I was inside my house in the laundry room. A TV with a VCR was hooked up to the wall. Inside the VCR and playing was an episode of Gravity Falls. I've never actually really watched Gravity Falls past a couple episodes, but I am aware it has a lot of magic and supernatural stuff in it, and not always the light-hearted kind. I don't even know how the TV show, being fairly modern, even had a VCR tape version, but hey, dreams usually don't follow normal logic anyhow.

In this particular episode (keep in mind, this was the dream tape, I doubt there's anything like this in real life), there was a common knowledge I knew, somehow, that at the end of this episode, right when it would be ending, a ghost girl fades into existence on screen. I was curious, so I had myself leaning really close to the TV, holding my finger on the pause and play button, rapidly pressing it over and over so I could just get the screen on it the last second. I felt a bad, eery feeling already, but curiosity, as it does most of the time, won out. I witnessed a Gravity Falls figure began to show up on the dark, flickering screen. 

While I was so focused in on this, the room had switched without my noticing from the laundry room to my bedroom and I was lying on my bed, leaning off the edge to hit the TV buttons. Something worth noting - right now, in real life, my bedroom is unspeakably messy, but in the dream, it was as clean as it could be. I was comfortably in the middle of my bed.

All I had time to observe was that I could make out was the figure's dark shape. It was a girl with her arms outstretched in the air. The image itself was not scary (then again, I did not have the opportunity to make out the girl's face), but I had opened a door. 

The room suddenly felt so much darker, and a pinning, disabling pressure gathered in my gut. Images began flashing in my vision... not on the TV or in the room, but in my head, as I flashed in and out of reality as I could barely perceive the stuff going in on the room around me. 

The images flashing was a zoom-up of a well-lit living room table, perhaps one you might see in a stock image if you googled "living room" on images. The table was empty for a moment, but then a dark-colored, almost black figurine appeared. It was a small, statue-like figurine that never moved, but each time my vision flashed back and forth, its position moved a little closer. There was nothing remarkable about its appearance; the only distinguishable thing about it was that it was a male person wielding a sword. Though nothing about the image itself pointed this out, my senses were somehow immediately able to know what it was. It was a demon. A demon coming for me. Fear was consuming me and my bedroom was going crazy.

The pushing point was when my bed began moving. One side of my bed, the side opposite of my head where my feet were, began to raise in the air, my senses going wild with painful, stabbing anxiety and fear as my body began to slide somewhere dark head-first. 

Then I cried out, without even thinking about it, "JESUS!" 

Then... it stopped. A gigantic pressure all around my body that made me barely able to move, one I didn't even perceive was there until that moment, immediately lifted. My bed dropped back to normal, but it didn't literally drop, for if it did, my bed would be shaken and my body would probably bounce. It practically immediately switched positions back to being stably on the ground without the actual process of lowering it. My bedroom felt less dark and I could finally see and feel the light in the windows. 

My vision continued to flash in and out of this moment, though, back to that living room in my head with the dark-colored figurine with the sword whom I knew was a demon. 

The figure was closer than ever, and I felt a tightening of fear, which immediately disappeared when I realized I wasn't alone. 

Facing away from me was another figure of the same dark-color. It was also a man, practically identical to the demon except for being in a different position. It wielded a sword also. This figurine was not my enemy but rather my savior, my hero. It was an angel, an angel wielding a holy sword who had come to save me. Though I actually never saw the figures themselves physically move, every time my vision flashed back and forth from my bedroom, the two figures got a little closer, both of their still, stony facial expressions hardened into war-faces of rage and battle. By the time the two figurines were close enough to touch, my vision stopped flashing, and now I was just in my bedroom. I had nothing to fear, though, for I knew which one had won. I relaxed, knowing I was safe, and appreciating the relief that came with it. Glory to God, Glory to Jesus, my saviors, my protectors, ones whom I pray to grow closer.

Then I woke up. 

Though I have been often having a great deal of violent dreams within the last couple years, the difference between me shrugging it off versus feeling creeped out and terrified is the aura of the dream. And this one had a heavy, dark atmosphere, one that made me feel terrified and terrible. I hadn't had a dream like that in a long while.

I think what I did the night before is what triggered it.

In the dream, when I was watching that Gravity Falls tape, I knew I was doing something that wasn't a good idea but my curiosity overpowered that knowledge and pushed through, wanting to keep seeing what was going on. The exact situation (not the literal situation but the context) happened. I looked at something I shouldn't have, something horror-related, and kept looking at the stuff until I had seen all of it. I could feel a small voice in my head, one urging me to continue and know all there was to know, and another voice, one sadly smaller, desperately urging me to wisely stop.

After I did that, before I went to sleep, I thought to myself, I feel like a doll who is broken up in many pieces and its her fault. Yet rather than my pieces being strung about with some missing, God is holding every piece of me in the palm of His hand, telling me that if I stay patient and faithful, I will soon be restored.

I drew a photo of the idea (if you guys wanted to see it, I suppose I can post it). I examined the picture. Her face was sad and tearful but she was smiling anyway, humiliated. Her dark, short hair was choppy and messy like it had been badly cut by a crooked tool and different limbs of hers had fallen off. Yet she was wrapped in two large hands, turning her over and carefully examining her, protecting her from losing herself.

Aaaaand now I have a story idea that I can't tell whether I want to make into a short story, a story poem, or a comic.

Today has been such a strange day.