inside my head (at night) is an eerie place…

Sometimes I have ridiculous dreams. I almost always have incredibly vivid ones. This means that quite often I end up having ridiculous dreams that are incredibly vivid and occasionally a bit terrifying. Last night? One of those nights.

(There is the faint sound of tinkling, cheesy dream music. The world begins to pulse and fade until a new, unreal world appears before you…)

I was sitting around a table. I do that a lot. Sit around tables. There were other people there. People that usually don’t sit around tables with me. For one, my grandpa who has been dead for all but four years of my life. We’re chatting about mundane things. About the weather and what we had for lunch. Suddenly I realize we are in a hospital. All around us the noises and sterile smells that come with said buildings waft about. Sure, it’s a hospital, but it also seems to be a dormitory. Friends are playing poker in the corner. People from my childhood are milling about a courtyard and wandering in and out of apartment style rooms. My leg hurts. I look down. My bad knee is acting up again. I curse as I realize that I don’t have any crutches on hand. With a serious look on his face, my grandpa hands me two large, adjustable crutches that are shaped like wire whisks. I thank him. Pretty soon I decide to test out the crutches. Even at their smallest setting they are slightly too long and they hurt my armpits, but I deal.  I tell my grandpa to take care of himself and listen to the doctors, then I kiss his cheek and wander off.

As I’m riding elevators up and down between hospital floors and strolling through different wings, I stop every now and then to look around me. My friend Charlotte is wearing a nursing uniform and I muse to myself that I had no idea she was a nurse. Then I go to speak with her. She is tending to my friend Crystle who appears to be suffering from some sort of illness. They both greet me and we chat for a while. Charlotte states that she is getting off work soon and asks if the two of us would like to join her downstairs at the coffee shop for a drink. We both agree.

Stepping into the elevator, I realize I’ve gone up further than expected. The top floor. That button is bigger than the rest and the seven inside of it is in a fancier typeface. I say, “This is a very short hospital.” The two girls laugh and agree. Looking around I find an easy chair to relax in while we wait for the elevator to start its descent. It is a very large space we are in. There is a mini bar and coffee table. The counters have lamps. It appears to be more of a living room than an elevator, but that does not strike me as odd.

I go over to the button panel again and press the button for the ground floor a second time. Nothing happens. The lights flicker. There is the buzzing sound of electricity and fuses being blown in the air. Soon a voice comes over a speaker, “There is no need to panic. The elevator is experiencing technical difficulties, but we have called an emergency team. Again, do not panic! All will be sorted soon.” Turning to my friends I say, “Sorted is an odd word to use.”

There is a snap. The world shifts. The elevator begins to fall. Charlotte is standing on top of the counter and we tell her to get on the floor quickly so that she is not pushed into the ceiling. Crystle and I are both holding onto the lip of the same counter, our knuckles turning white. We hit the bottom but we are outside in the courtyard somehow. We blink and look around. My knee still hurts, but I appear to be okay. There is no emergency crew. An odd looking lady walks over to the now glass elevator doors and pulls on them until they open and then she walks away casually as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I leave, my friends do not. They both stay chatting with each other and insisting on waiting for the paramedics.

I wander back into the ground floor of the building. I see my friends still playing poker. I see my grandpa still sitting at a table, only now he is eating what appears to be a large bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Josh walks over to me and tells me he is going to get some coffee. He then suggests that I ask for free coffee since I do not have insurance and therefore cannot be seen after my accident. He says the coffee will calm my nerves. The barista greets Josh pleasantly and tells him about a deal on a certain candy he had wanted another time but they had not had in stock. They exchange banter like old friends, but I don’t recognize her. I take my turn at the counter and stumble over my words asking for free coffee. The barista laughs and says she cannot comply to my request unless I have been seen by a doctor. I sigh. Brandi and James wander in and offer me change to buy a cup. I refuse it and walk off.

All of a sudden I realize I’m bleeding. A lot. My body feels broken. I reach up to touch a sore spot on my head and it stings. When I pull my hand away, it is covered in blood. I’m light headed, but I can’t ask for help. Instead, I head over to my grandpa. I sit down at his table. He says warmly, “Welcome back!” However, he does not mention my injuries…

(Everything slowly begins pulsing again as the real world comes back into focus. The cheesy dream sequence music can be heard once more.)

Sometimes, I have ridiculous dreams.


3 thoughts on “inside my head (at night) is an eerie place…

  1. How nice to have a pleasant visit with Grandpa. I see him in my dreams once in awhile but we seldom get to talk. Your dream makes me think of the kind that I have.

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