Shadowfiend23 @ Wrocław

I had a strange dream that I was in some kind of battle royale situation. I was locked inside a small village – where it was always twilight – and I was forced to kill every other combatant in order to escape. I won’t go into the details of the battles, but suffice it to say that it was brutal. I used my lucid dream abilities to stop bullets, to teleport, to throw spikes, to throw boulders, etc. I stood alone at the end of the competition in a square built for the winner. The commentators starting chiming in, saying how I was a monster for slaughtering the others so mercilessly. But I disagreed. I told them that I had done what I needed to, in fact, that I had beaten the system. I then raised my hands and wished for everyone to come back from the dead. And come back they did. So I had found a way to get everyone out of the arena alive – no one died in the end. The dream leapt forward one year, and I recognized one of the girls from the battle. She thanked me for saving her, telling me that she would be forever grateful.

I remember having many nightmares when I was little. I probably had a normal amount of them, but I felt like I was the only person in the world having so many nightmares (you don’t know much about other people as a kid). Anyway, one night when I was about six or seven, I remember having one particularly scary dream. A dream where I learned one of my first lucid dream tricks – how to prematurely end a dream. (and how to split infinitives : )    )

When the dream started, I was in the kitchen at my mom’s house. It was the middle of the night, which was probably inherently scary to me at this age. I was watching my sister Molly fold clothes in the living room. She was putting the folded clothes into a laundry basket that was sitting on top of a stool. Everything was normal at this point, but I remember feeling like there was an evil presence in the house. Something I didn’t understand. Suddenly, Molly started freaking out, seizing and thrashing all while dashing to and fro inhumanely quickly. Like a hummingbird. She collapsed in a heap, knocking over the stool with the laundry basket on it. The clothes formed a grinning face, with slanting, derisive eyes. I knew that something was wrong. Just then, I heard my dad laughing from somewhere downstairs, near the laundry room. But something wasn’t right. His laugh was too loud, too hearty. He sounded insane. I knew that he had been possessed by a demon. I started to become panicked. I decided to run up to the master bedroom, but as I ascended the staircase, it started to stretch up and up infinitely while also becoming frigid, icy, misty. My stomach dropped. I was paralyzed with fear. Just then, I decided, “No. No, no, no. I don’t need to go up there. I don’t like where this is going. This dream is not fun, and I don’t need to keep having it.” So I shut my eyes tightly, and squeezed. Squeezed as hard as I could. Suddenly, I woke up. In real life. And I was relieved.

I continued using this trick when I was younger, and I grew to love it. When I realized I was having a nightmare, all I needed to do was to squeeze my eyes in the dream, and consciousness, my old friend, was persuaded into staving off my tormented slumber – for a while, at least.

So I’m not sure how many posts I’m going to end up doing here, but I thought that it would be fun (for me and for others) to write down some of my dreams, the lucid ones especially.