Saturday, October 15, 2011


I had to run away from this man who, at the time, seemed something like Voldemort. I had discovered the jewels that, when shined on by the sun, would call forth spirits I would have to battle and was attempting to either protect or hide them. Brandon and Marilyn Newberry were there with me and we split up to cause confusion- he didn't know who had the jewels. I was trying to go to places where no one would ever find me. I was first at a sports writers convention and Sarina Grasham was trying to hide Brooklyn by pretending she was her own child, but I quickly realized that I was going to be found out if I stayed there because he knew I loved sports. I headed to Home Depot, where no one would ever suspect me, and Susie Holderfield was there and told us we could hide in her car. I was going to move some items from my car to hers when I realized my car was gone. That only meant one thing: he found me. I realized I was at the Home Depot in Needville, and that was a major mistake because I used to work in Needville; of course he was going to look for me there! I then received a phone call that said, "Nice to see you again on highway 8 in Needville, Texas". I saw him driving towards me and then his car disappeared. I went back to the church where this all started and began walking up the windy staircase. He was still on the phone with me. "Why did so few people help you?" he asked. "Because humanity is evil. Because we are selfish and no one wanted to put themselves in danger. Because we are full of hate." At this point I couldn't tell if I was speaking what I really believed or what he wanted to hear as if I was trying to trap him. Sarcastically, as I reached the top of the stairs, I said, "I'd love to thank all of the people who didn't help me". As I spoke these words, I saw all my family sitting in a small chapel, praying for my success. Then, from both the phone and from within the very place I stood, he said, "Let me thank them". At that moment I was sure I had looked into the face of the devil. He looked like a very light-skinned bald middle eastern man with a goatee and a hint of British accent. I knew I could not have outsmarted him and I shouldn't have relied on myself, my skills and my friends to defeat him. I couldn't trick him or trap him, and I nearly lost my soul for it.

That's a pretty intense dream to have. Especially since it couldn't have lasted more than 2 hours. I was awake at 6:30 when Brooklyn started crying and went back to sleep and dreamed THAT until 8:30.

I've always had more vivid dreams than the people around me. The first dream I can remember probably happened when I was around 4 years old. I was playing outside and came in to wash my hands. When I turned on the water faucet in the downstairs bathroom, instead of water coming out, thousands of bumblebees flew at me. I ran upstairs to escape them but found a t-rex in my parents shower and a giant killer butterfly living under the bed.

A famous middle school dream was about the Blue Bunny People. Hanson had been kidnapped and turned into blue bunnies and I had to save then. I also had a series of dreams with my friend Lindsay in them. These dreams were very revealing to me; every time I liked a new boy, I had a dream that Lindsay killed them in new and intriguing ways. These came to be known as the "Communist Lindsay" dreams. It was around this time that I bought a Sigmund Freud book on dreams. I had already had so many memorable dreams and wondered why oh why oh why I had. They play out like a movie in my mind. They may have pieces of nonsense in them, but they follow a storyline.

My senior year of high school I would walk into 1st period Government everyday and one of my friends would say, "Alright, what'd you dream this time?" Nearly each day I had something new and exciting for them. Then they'd all talk about how they didn't ever dream, or didn't remember their dreams, or they dreamed in black and white, etc. etc.

I've always been fascinated with dreams, and yet I wonder if it's a blessing or a curse that I have and can remember them so well. I didn't want to imagine what the devil looked like between 6:30 and 8:30 this morning. I didn't want to imagine Kirby being born stillborn (I was about 9 for that dream) and I never wanted to dream that someone broke into the house and shot my mom in the head (Maybe 10 years old. She was lying in a pool of blood with bloodstained popcorn around her and the Twilight Zone on television in the background). Morbid, yes? Yes. I'm tired of dreams like this. I'm tired of nightmares.

Maybe it's because I'm so imaginative. I once imagined my house (and drew blueprints for it, no less) looking like a Discovery Zone/Leaps and Bounds mixture. My room had the rope spiderwebs in it along with a trap door. My parents room had slides that you could slide down into the piano room which was a huge ballpit. There was a hole in the upstairs hallway and a fireman pole to slide from the second floor to the first which dropped you off right at the monkey bars.

I imagined being a child actress in Hollywood living with Brad Pitt, who adopted me as a daugther.
I imagined nursing Matthew McConaughey back to health after a hunting accident in the woods.
I imagined being the first female NHL player. I was goalie for the Dallas Stars, and Mike Modano fell for me. I was older in these last two imaginations, obviously.

Now my imagination is used for potential crafts; Christmas cards, baby shower decorations, show choir dance moves and lighting, and future vacations for my family. And as cliche as it sounds, I'm living my dreams. I have a husband who cheered with us at a high school football game last night and then took turns with our daughter kissing her baby doll this morning. Not many guys are willing to go on either end of the spectrum like that. Brooklyn is the sweetest girl I can imagine. She is a dream child. We have money, food, shelter, clothing, and love. We have everything that we need so I don't have any reason to dream for anything more.

If my mind knows that when I'm awake, how come I can't make it realize that when I'm sleeping? I know I'd feel more rested if I could only watch movies in my waking hours instead of 24/7. Plus, my dream movies are a little too avante garde even for me most nights.

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