Dream 44

I was laying in my bed in my home in London and I woke up. This was a false awakening, although at the time I didn't know this and assumed I really was awake. It was dark, but with enough light to see - which would have been true of real-life, as I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, shortly before dawn. The room appeared exactly as it does in real-life. However, I was on the other side of the bed (from that which I normally sleep) and alone, although I did not question this at the time. Suddenly I became aware of someone else being in the room. It was a tall skinny man with dull grey skin and blonde hair, parted in the middle. He did not resemble anyone known to me in real-life. His arms and legs looked extremely long and quite flat and although I could not see his penis, the parts of his body that I could see (he was leaning over me) were completely hairless. At this stage I was terrified as I still thought I was awake. The man got on top of me and started struggling with me. I tried to fight him off. He put one hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming. I wasn't sure if he was trying to rape me or simple wrestle me. I was under the covers. I looked at the window and saw that the curtains were open. On the glass of the window was an opaque coloured glass plaque depicting me as a young girl. I seemed to look at it for ages and it was very vivid, although difficult to describe in words. The background was white and the picture was not particularly realistic. For some reason this scared me more than the strange man on top of me. It gave me an ominous feeling of dread. I looked away from window and towards the door. My nan, PC, was standing there, in the doorway, wearing a pale pink nightgown. She was talking gobbledygook, saying random words without meaning. She wasn't wearing any glasses. It was at this point I realised that I was still asleep and dreaming. It was the fact that PC wouldn't possibly be in London which triggered this. I looked at the window and again saw the plaque. The strange man was no longer on top of me (I'm not sure exactly when he disappeared, but I realised it after the second time of looking at the plaque, shortly after the realisation of the false awakening). I wished to wake up. I scrunched my eyes. I was now lucid, but I'm not sure I really appreciated this fact as I could have willed myself to get up out of the bed and explore (as I always promise myself I will do next time I am lucid following a false awakening - the sensation and visualisation of the strange man on top of me may have been as a result of sleep paralysis - the way my subconscious brain chose to communicate that feeling to me in the dream). I thought to myself (lucidly): 'if I wake up the plaque will be gone from the window'. It seemed to be of greater concern to me than the fact I had been attacked by a strange naked man!

I was then in the downstairs of a house in Sheringham - it appeared to be a mix of a room in the former home of my childhood friend MS (although I have only ever been in that room - which had a piano in the corner by the door to my recollection, although my visits dated back to 1995/6). There was a white-framed bay window and pot plants on the floor. Through one of  the long narrow windows which were either side of the main bay window, I could see two young men crouching on the grass outside, looking through into the room. I thought they were looking for me and I felt very threatened. I crawled on my hands and knees out of the room, certain that they must have seen me. I sat by the front door on wooden floor, a position from which I could look through the doorway into the piano room and see the window through which the boys were watching. However, I thought I should also check through the letterbox to see if I could see anything else. The brass letterbox was up an inch or so and on closer inspection I could see a pair of eyes looking back at me. I felt scared and moved away, wondering if the person looking through the letterbox had seen me, although undoubtedly they must have, as we were inches away from each other, looking face-on at one another. 

I was then standing on a platform above a large empty warehouse. The lights were very bright and there were orange-brown wooden floorboards. The scene looked pixilated, similar to the graphics of a computer game. To the left I could see nothing but a dark warehouse wall, and a further expanse of the same platform I was standing on. To my right was a set of PVC doors leading to another room and on the ground, a young woman. She looked very similar to me, although not identical. However, if I describe her basic appearance - petite with a curvy figure; long, thick black frizzy hair, tried back; olive skin; casual dress - there is little to differentiate us. I felt threat from her, as if she had malevolent feelings towards me or we were enemies somehow. I realised she was the person who had looked at me through the letterbox in the previous scene. I thought to myself that it would be a good idea to shoot her. I tried to imagine that I had a gun, but there was none in my hand. I then noticed, looking to my right at the girl, that there was a massive poster of  Tupac Shakur on the wall behind the girl, and as I kept looking, realised the warehouse was now kitted out as a large, now brightly-lit, domestic kitchen on the left side (where previously there had been nothing but wall and platform). As I looked back at the girl, I saw that she had (or had become, as I could not see her at this point) a huge weapon (the size of a bus) made out of shiny black metal. It was difficult to tell exactly what sort of weapon this was, as at the same time it resembled both a canon and the barrel of a revolver gun. The weapon wasn't placed directly on the floor, but rather seemed to come up out of the floorboards. I anticipated an explosion and immediately I saw the canon/revolver blast a huge canon ball/bullet towards the left. The explosion had an animated, cartoon-like quality. I looked to my left and saw that side of the warehouse/kitchen blow up like a bomb had gone off there. I thought to myself that there would be some form of 'recoil' or something which would hit the girl (as I had originally wished that I could shoot her, not that she should have her own weapon), and sure enough, as I looked at her or the canon/revolver (it wasn't clear if I was seeing her or simply the large weapon), the wooden floorboards began to curl up towards her, as if something was pushing them up from beneath (they looked like shavings of wood, and this seemed to happen in slow motion). Then, as the floorboards reached the girl/weapon (they also seemed to resemble a tidal wave) she blew up in another cartoon explosion. I actually saw the girl this time - she was flying up in the air horizontally, at the time the explosion went off, just a few inches above the 'flames'. She was wearing a white top. Her arms were stretched out behind her head and her mouth was in a wide 'O' shape, as if she were screaming, but I could hear no sound. I'm not even aware of any noise being heard when the two explosions occurred.

I was then standing in a serene conservatory setting, with antique furniture and lush plants. Sunlight was streaming through the window. My stepdad was seated in an armchair. I was wearing a short mint green silky dressing-gown. I said I wanted to show him my new dress. I took off the dressing-gown and underneath saw that I was wearing an extremely short white dress which looked like a long T-shirt. My stepdad said that he thought the dress was too revealing. I then went upstairs. These stairs were the same bare wooden stairs as in my real-life London home. I was barefoot. As I got to midway up the staircase, my stepdad's head burst through the stair directly above the one I was standing on. The wood splintered away. It was reminiscent of Jack Nicholson's head bursting through the doorway, screaming 'Here's Johnny!' in The Shining (1980) or the images of 'ceiling cat' I had accidentally found whilst searching for images of dogs on Google the day before this dream. I was shocked. My stepdad told me that he could see up my skirt because it was so short. He seemed to be angry with me. His face was redder than usual, as if he had sunburn.

I was then in a community centre. It was daytime. The room (sparsely decorated, with a long table running along the left-side wall) was filled with young men and women. I saw the girl who resembled myself (letterbox/explosion in warehouse). She was wearing black trousers and a white crocheted top. She seemed very happy and I no longer felt animosity from her. It felt as if we had made peace. She ran off, out of the room, followed by the other young persons who had been standing there. I watched them and felt content. A middle-aged woman (not known to me in real-life - she had a long tartan skirt and mid-brown hair in a low bun and looked quite frumpy) said to me: "She's an Irish Gypsy, she needs to be with her family."