A Prisoner in My Own Dream

Do you ever get those dreams, where they don’t feel like a dream, but they feel like something more? The moments where you feel like someone, something is standing in the corner of your eye? By the door-frame of your room, or just outside. Do they seem angry? or do they just want your attention?

In this dream, I was someone else, but also myself. Does that make sense? Let’s explore this further. In this dream, I saw myself, standing there, but he looked different, like the inner me does. But I was me, and we weren’t the same person, or in the same body. We both saw each other, and recognised each other

I was running down a corridor. I felt like something was chasing me. It was dark, and the walls were a cold, dim blue stone. There were doors on either side of the hallway as far as you could see. The corridor was never ending, like a space between spaces.

Naturally, I tried the doors, and with each door I tried I felt something get closer to me, it felt bigger than me. I kept going. The doors were different colours, and I tried every single one. Every single pissin’ one was locked.

I started to sweat, and got a little bit scared. Something inside me woke up and I realised it was a dream. I felt that thing or whatever it was so close to me I could feel it’s breath on the back of my neck, and my hairs stood up on end. I grew desperate to open a door. I closed my eyes and pushed the door as hard as I could, and I fell through it. I quickly got up, and closed it. I felt I was safe, but everything turned black.

There was nothing, I couldn’t even see my hands, and then, when I took another step forward things started to appear, and take shape in front of me. A person was on his knees before me. He was wrapped in chains and they were spread out, to several points around him. The room had three circles, and the closest one had symbols where the chains clung to the floor. He looked like the person from my book, he looked like Thomas, and he struggled, and struggled to get out but nothing made a difference. Every time he tried to break free they tied him to the floor tighter.

There were seven symbols on the floor, and a space stood empty. Still, a chain gripped the empty space. Thomas saw me creeping closer, and it took every inch of strength he had to stand up. He stretched his whispers across the room, “Run, get out of here. You need to go! If they find you–” the women, the people that stood around him, chaining him down, were summoned through their symbols on the floor. Then the outer circle had many more people around them, then again. It was like they were the ones stopping Thomas getting free.

When they approached me, I turned around and went to run but fell through the floor. When I fell, I woke up.

When I woke up, my bedroom door swung open and hit the wall behind it. Something happened last night and I would love to figure out what. But, until next time.

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