I woke up screaming.
The dream was... well the first time I had this dream I did not remember much of it; there were two people, which the dream kept switching the point of view, and one of them died. What was so unnerving thing about it was what I did remember of the dream, was so vivid and sharp it was like I was there, and could feel the person's emotions.
After I realized I wasn't in any immediate danger I assessed my surroundings and found that I had made it back to my apartment somehow. Upon trying to remember how I had gotten back, I found that the last thing I was able to remember from that night was after finding myself pulled over in the car.
The logical side of me was saying that there was obviously something wrong with the situation and that I needed to leave. However soon after another side of me reasoned that there was obviously a reason I would have written what I did in my notes and was where I was, and so should figure out why it was important to myself. After deciding this I got out of the car and... blank.
In the midst of rubbing some feeling into my face, trying to wake myself up further, I noticed why my arm felt like it had been dragged through a thorn bush:
I had no fucking clue where it had come from or who drew it on my arm, it could have been myself for all I knew. The odd thing about it besides the drawing itself, is that my arm was completely sore and red and the drawing was overlapping itself as if someone had been re-drawing it on my arm as it faded.
No comments:
Post a Comment