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messywordsss · 1 year

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Dream a little dream #2

It happens again.

I’m in bed and it’s 5 am. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to anymore.

Suze is sleeping next to me, she rolls over and one of her arms fall over my waist, it grounds me, I’m suddenly not afraid of dreams anymore.

So, I dream.

I’m agitated, there’s a long dark hall in front of me, I can’t breathe properly, my body feels heavy, I’m covered in sweat and I can feel chills all over my skin, well not my skin per se. there’s a tug in my hand, I look down to see a little girl looking terrified. She has these big brown orbs for eyes, full of fear and despair. My mind is still foggy, I can’t recognize shapes or colors, everything is kind of foggy and dark.

I take a deep breathe, focus on the colors, think about the way light and darkness fall over shapes, I remember what people looks like, what beathing actually is and I finish stepping into this new skin of me, this borrowed body I’m currently habiting, I let its own conscious merge with mine, I ask for memories and it gives them to me.

Now I know.

But do I?

-Gwen- the little girl looks at me with tears running down her chubby brown cheeks, I can see her bushy hair now, brown like dark chocolate, small sweaty hands, worn down clothes, pink snickers and a really tattered pink teddy bear -Come here baby- I take her into my arms and I can feel the love and warmth this body exudes for her, I can see swings, beaches, a little pup, Christmases, birthdays, hospital beds and cemeteries, but they’re together, always together.

-Daddy? Are we dying? Is Momma going to be there? - the world gets blurry for a second, this body suddenly feels off, too much emotions, too much awareness of something off going on with them, he is fighting my own consciousness but I can’t let him win.

-No baby, nothing’s gonna happen, we’re going home- and then I hear it. The screech.

I take Gwen’s head and put it in my neck, silently telling this body I’m going to help as much as I can. I turn around breathing slowly and trying to calm myself to face what’s behind us.

-Play…- a small voice echoes in the hallway, the dark walls begin to take green and purple colors, there are no doors or windows, no escape for whatever lurks in the dark -Play with me Daddy- the voice sounds closer and closer but I can’t find its source, I can’t see shit and this body begins to shake like a leaf -Daddy? - a hand touches my shoulder, it’s cold and wet, long long fingers with long awful broken nails, I shriek and start running, Gwen trembles in my arms so I hug her tighter not letting her see or hear anything.

I run as fast as these legs can, the fear rises, control slips, a foot goes the wrong way down, I stumble to the ground but I take control right back and get up immediately, that doesn’t stop me from seeing what’s following me though.

Fucking Pennywise, freaking tall lanky clown dressed in white and red, funny perverted psychotic smiles, orange crazy eyes and a big fucking fair hammer in its hands. I know it’s not the real deal, Pennywise is just a fictional character, but this thing looks a lot like him, covered in bloody with its sharp teeth going on every direction.

I look forward again, cursing and screaming internally, the fog around the walls dissolves some more and I can see a dead end ahead of me, I rush forward anyways, maybe I can shape this, maybe this IS just a dream. I hold on even tighter to the little girl in my arms and pay little to no attention to the voice on this body telling to stop. The wall comes closer and closer, I close my eyes and prepare myself…

And then I open them again.

There is no fog, the ceiling is white, the walls are covered in drawings and posters, my body is my own, my sweat is my own, the hand on my waist is small but not chubby or child-like. I don’t scream for that wasn’t a nightmare, and if it was, it was not my own. I do not cry, they’re still alive. But I do get angry, I want to do something.

-Good or bad? - the hand on my waist tightens, the bed shifts and a light is turned on.

-Bad, I wanna go back – I hear a tired sight and then Suze’s footsteps as she goes to the kitchen to make some coffee while I begin my reentering process.

The process is not really that fancy or a real process per se, I just think about what happen and I let myself fall into it again. I begin by remembering the little girl, Gwen, the chubby cheeks, the small sweaty hands, the fear in her eyes, the comfort she was searching for in her father’s arms. I think about him, how it felt to be inside him, how his conscious welcomed me looking for some help, some light in those dark dark halls.

The world shifts and so do I.

There is no more fog, but there are no more halls either. There is a room, grey walls that don’t quite reach the floor, the floor is tile, white tile. Three of the four walls are completely bare, the one in front of me has thing attached to it, handles, bars, knobs, some hangers, rope attached to rings in the whit ceiling, and many other things that weird me out.

-Play Daddy- man I hate that voice, my right hands closes around a smaller one and I look down at Gwen, she doesn’t look as scared as before, more like determined, like she knows something I don’t, something I haven’t placed yet.

I take a second look around, between the floor and where the actual walls start there is at least a meter of distance and there is literally nothing holding the walls to the floor or the floor for all I can see, we could be floating in space and I wouldn’t know or doubt it. This is not my world, I don’t know its mechanics, its laws or its reality, maybe I haven’t had enough time to accept it, maybe this body doesn’t accept it either, maybe Gwen and He aren’t from here either.

The maybes swirl around my mind while I try to focus on the many objects displayed in the wall in front of these two bodies and three consciousness. And then I see it, a small tiny tinny duct high in the wall.

-Climb Daddy – Fucked up Pennywise 3.0 is on a far corner, hammer swinging in one hand, pink teddy bear in the other.

I walk ‘till the wall and look at the stuff attached to it, I put my hand on one of the handles but I noticed it’s not screwed into the wall, it looks like its just resting in there by some magic. I pull. It comes of the wall along my hand. I curse. We’re fucked. Well, they’re fucked.

None of the things in the wall are actually screwed into it, they’re just glued, maybe He can make it, but not the girl, the girl will die, this wet soggy version of Pennywise is going to chew her and spit her and play with her little body like a little pup playing with his favorite chew toy.

So I take a different stand, you see, some stories have to be played a certain way, you can’t just fuck around with them, saving the ones you like and killing the ones you don’t, but it’s okay to fuck up from time to time. Dreams are like that for me, I can let them play themselves, or I can actually step up and play around.

-Let’s play- I grab one of the big handles in the wall, the one like looks like an old rusty tube and I smile wickedly towards fake Penny.

Best thing is, he looks fucking terrified, and I may get caught for this, those fuckers following may get me, and fuck me up, and maybe even Suze if she doesn’t fuck them up first, but as I look at this freaking nightmare being terrified of the little narrative change I’m about to make, I can’t help but laugh and enjoy MY narrative.

……….

-Fucker? – I open my eyes tiredly, there’s a cup filled with delicious black coffee in front of me and I take it like its ambrosia and I’m some kind of thirsty mythic god.

-Dead, left him like that ass that called you a whore last week at the bar- Suze laughs and smirks like the little devil that she is, she has a pad on her lap and a pencil in her hand, a spare one into her scarlet hair keeping it up and away from her face.

-Host? – she gets her serious face on as I sit with my back to the headboard.

-Black, 36, male, dark brown eyes, out of shape, maybe poor or maybe that world was in bad shape, had a daughter with him, Gwen, 6, black too, chubby cheeks, brown eyes, dead mother, some kind of sickness – Suze starts sketching the new characters as I keep saying the little things I remember before it’s too late.

-World? Situation? - Suze switches from time to time to the second pen to take notes, letting her hair fall on one of her shoulders, like the blood that was covering that fucking clown.

-I don’t know, it was weird, some fantasy some not, dark, scary, foggy, there was a clown, Pennywise-like, it was fucking terrifying, I had to change the narrative, we´re probably being traced right now- Suze finishes sketching the new characters and takes notes in the new world two, she puts the number #231 on the top of it and hangs it on the wall alongside #015 the Superhero world.

She gets out of the bedroom and a couple minutes later I feel the house shifting, the bar and the apartment on top start moving like a Rubik’s cube and then we’re gone, off to some other part of the world where the people need a pub to go to drink and spill their secrets, a place where we’re going to stay until I dream of another world that needs a change on its narrative to save the hosts I end up liking.

-I hate my job – Suze fall on the bed again and turns the lights off.

-Sweet dreams little keeper, we both know you wouldn’t have so much fun with another dreamer – Suze groans and flips me the bird as I leave the room to start breakfast.

#dreams #nightmares #actually dreamed this #writeblr

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messywordsss · 1 year

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Dream a little dream

There used to be a boy. He was a dreamer too.

His name was Derek, I never told him mine. He was kind, a cheerful soul, just a dreamer nothing more. But he had something I had long lost. Innocence.

He was 11 years old while I was 21 years old, he used to call me Big sis whenever we faced some trouble in our little travels. We would meet in dreams, our own dreams, the only place where dreamers are gods, where we find each other. Derek was the son of two humans, but he was special, he had a great life, all the toys he could ask for, thousands of nannies and friends, but he had no siblings. And we always want what we can’t have, that’s how he found me. He wished for a sister, and then he appeared in one of my dreams.

I was dreaming about a zombie apocalypse, it wasn’t ideal for a little boy to be there, he never quite understood the concept of death, but he knew there was a moment in life where people ceased to be there, they were removed from this realm and he also knew that that moment wasn’t the same for everybody and that some people liked to rush it. Derek used to think that when someone died on a realm, they would simply be reborn into another, to him dying was like closing your eyes to one life to open them in another the next second, different body and mind but the same old soul.

He made me believe in reincarnation, he gave me a whole new way to see the world, Derek taught me just as much as I taught him. When he wandered into my little domain of dreams he was going to be eaten by a zombie, but with a little murmur all the zombies suddenly stopped eating kids under the age of 15. We dreamers can shape our own dreams, wander around, never being the protagonist but playing more like a god role, it was like imaging simulacrums in our heads but we could actually see them in person, well kind of.

I taught Derek how to have a dream, how to trigger it, I taught him how to manipulate his environment, how to jump in peoples dreams if they were close to us in the real world, I taught him about the world I came from and how different it was from this one. In return, he told me about his family, about some weird dreams he had, how he dreamed of getting into others people bodies, how he could access their memories, he told me about his visits to other realms, and he help me and Suze discovering some new worlds to add to the walls.

But all good things come to an end, back then Suze and I weren’t being followed, we weren’t being spied on, we weren’t on the run. We were just two 21 y/o badass bitches that ran an awesome bar in Norway, had a couple of real friends, a father who visited with gifts and new stories every month and had a shiton of fun every single day. We were on a lucky strike and it was time to come down, and come down hard we did.

I was brought to Derek, first I was in one of my dreams, eating ice cream and watching unicorns fight with beavers and then I was pull of out my domain and thrown into a nasty cell. Derek was just outside of it, his little face covered in bruises and dried blood, he was crying waterfalls and murmuring apologies like he was saying prayers. There was someone else, I couldn’t see them but I could feel them. Another dreamer, someone strong enough to get me out of my domain and into Derek’s.

Derek had told one of his friends about his cool Big Sis, the friend told another friend, who told their Nanny, who told their Boss, a rich piece of shit part of the government. A government that is completely against dreamers, about letting people know there are other realms, the only way they can keep the current situation of our own realm is by not letting people know there are others to go to. No one knows how to travel realms, no one CAN travels realms at will, some people just get pull out of their worlds and thrown into others, they get imprisoned, tortured, studied like a lab rat, just so the governments can know where they come from and try to figure out how to get out. Our realm is dying, it has been dying for the past hundred years and it will die for real in fifty more. No one knows how to save it, so they want out.

Dreamers can travel between realms through their dreams but they happen at random, real traveling in dreams its unconscious. Yes, we can find a way back if we try right after waking up from it but we just have a couple of seconds before we lose the tread. The government doesn’t know this, they don’t know shit, they think they do but boy they’re wrong. They hunt us, they study us and then they disposed of us. We keep in the shadows, we flaunt other magics or we act like common cunts, but they always find us anyways, and they found me once.

I was kept on Derek’s dream for a week, they boy and the other dreamer were being kept asleep through an induced coma, they forced me to stay there, body and mind slowly deteriorating with every passing hour but I was tougher than they thought, as long as I could keep Suze and Murph safe I was willing to die, it was our pact, we would die for each other, for we were everything the other had.

On the real world, Suze had to keep us hiding, Murph had come back to help and they had to keep the bar moving, changing locations every twelve hours, fed my body, move it and search for a spell to pull me back.

Through that week they tried to get information out of me, they could get my location just because the strong dreamer could track my real body but the rest had to come from me, the dreamer wasn’t strong enough to get into my mind, they couldn’t break my body, their beatings were nothing like the ones I used to get from the rich back into my world, even Suze would hit harder whenever I messed with her drawings. Derek was deteriorating though, they wouldn’t let him leave and the other dreamer didn’t want to get me to his own mind, he was probably afraid of the silent girl that searched every corner of the room looking for something to kill him with.

Then Derek started disappearing, he was dreaming for real while still being on a dream, his mind began splitting into two, the boy that had to keep me there and the boy that was habiting other people in different realms, he started forgetting who he was, minutes were days for him, his brain became a scrambled egg. On the seventh day, he couldn’t do it anymore, he was on the floor sobbing like a new born, he begged the other dreamer to let him rest, he was only 13 years old by now, Derek wasn’t strong enough to dream for a whole week, no one was.

He disappeared a last time, came back a couple of minutes later with something on his hands, he learned to take objects into his domain on his last trip but it didn’t last long, he looked like a little old man, his dark brown hair had white sections, his eyes were diluted, he fell to his knees in front of my cell, told me about his trip, a steam punk city, tons of weird people with weird clothes and cool artifacts. Derek was crying once again, he got a hand inside my cell and held my own with an iron grip, he murmured a last apology and then stabbed his own heart with a laser dagger. Derek smiled at me as he pushed me away. Away from his domain and towards reality.

I woke up sweaty, missing a couple of pounds around my body, with Suze cuddling my side and Murph smiling at me from a chair on my other side. It took me a month to get completely back from my own mind, to understand Derek’s death, to accept it and keep on living my own life. We started running after that, the government knew me but I knew the essence of their dreamer too. And it took me and Suze only a month and a half to find him and kill him, a laser dagger through his skull.

………………..

And now? Ten years after Derek’s death.

There is a girl.

At first, I don’t know where I am.

It’s a street, a merge of streets I know combined into one, there are no limits, just white fog in the distance, there are plenty of people walking around, checking shops and talking to each other. All the faces are undefined, they all look like merges of different people. But in the middle of the street there’s someone different, their back is facing me so I can’t see their face, they have short brunette hair in little waves that rest upon their shoulders, a small petite figure, casual jeans and a t-shirt that barely covers their backside. There is something about them that makes me realize they’re out of place, they’re not mine, not a part of mi imagination or my domain. Another dreamer.

I follow them. They never turn around; I can’t see their face. I look around, faces I can’t place look at me weirdly. The dream stops but the other dreamer keeps on moving as if they didn’t notice what’s going on. This is not my dream, they’re interfering, I can always see my peoples faces when I’m in my domain but now I can’t. This dreamer is in my head, they must have wandered in here and then they decided to start playing around.

I follow them, I make the dream go on, people look more real now, I concentrate and the street becomes clearer, there are other streets crossing this one in different intersections, I can see inside the shops, cars start going through the street. The dreamer doesn’t bother looking around, they just keep walking.

And then we’re in a school, they enter as if they own the place, I can see their face, small button nose, soft brown eyes, olive complexion, a girl, a beautiful brunette. I hum, I’ve never seen a dreamer that wasn’t a kid on my dreams, except for the bastard that tried to break me of course, but this girl looks different, as if she’s just exploring my mind.

I enter the school behind her, but as soon as I’m inside I can’t see her anymore. She’s nowhere. Something shifts, I can feel it in my mind, I reach for my real body and I can feel Suze sprawled in the bed, an arm across my face, keeping me grounded without knowing, checky little bastard. I calm down after that, if I can still feel my body then everything’s fine.

The shift becomes clearer, the school is changed, blurrier, I’m no longer in my own mind, this new dreamer pushed me into her mind without me knowing or even feeling it until it happened. I take a look around and I can identify things for places I’ve been, I have never been to an actual school, my realm was medieval and when I got here Murph was the only teacher I needed. But I have seen schools, I have been to plenty in others people’s dreams.

As I walk around, I can see other kids, their faces are weird again, a mix of features that belong to people I’ve met before. They wave at me as if I’m one of their own, I can see a big open hall with thousands of kids in different groups, I go towards them but I can’t find the dreamer. A bell rings, the kids get put in line, sorted by grades, I feel a weird pull towards one the groups, so I follow.

We get to a classroom and an older person starts moving their mouth as if speaking but I can’t hear anything, no one makes noises but I can still hear a little buzz, as if I’m supposed to hear but I can’t, whatever they’re saying is total gibberish to me. All of the sudden the older person leaves, another comes in and starts murmuring again, the cycle repeats itself a couple of times and then the room shifts. I’m outside the school again, everything outside of the building is blank, white fog surrounds everything, I enter the school again, I go to the hall, kids are gathered there again, I go with the same group, the cycle repeats itself all over again.

The cycle goes on another three times. I can’t get out, it’s like she’s telling me where to go and when, everywhere I’m not supposed to go to is blank, complete halls are blank and foggy, when I open a door, I always end up back into the classroom I’m supposed to be in. I start getting angry, I concentrate in my own domain, I imagine a little village, a small poor town full of little kids with furry tails and ears, I remember the smell of pies and bread, the sound of streets vendors, mercenaries with their big weapons and scarred faces. The horses waving through the people with the soldiers riding them.

I open my eyes and we’re back in my domain, the village I grew up on, I bring the dreamer to me, she’s not so exploring anymore, she can smell the decay in the air, she can see pass the playing kids, pass the vendors and the soldiers, she can see the old men beating the small children in the shadows, she can see the dead animals with the moths on their bodies, their organs long gone.

She thinks she got it bad in school, bullying, a little yelling from the teachers, no friends, bad grades, something like dyslexia, but now she’s seeing me, she’s being led towards the church, two guards hold her by the arms as she realizes she doesn’t have a tail or fluffy exterior ears. Our eyes meet and I give her a wicked grin, I don’t know if she’s good or bad but I prefer asking for her forgiveness later on than regretting trusting her from the get go. She looks panicked, she knows what’s going to happen in that church. I stop, I take everything away and I take to a meadow, no flowers, just green grass and mountains in the distance.

-You shouldn’t wander into other dreamers’ minds and change their domains without permission- the girl doesn’t look apologetic but she’s blushing and looking down in embarrassment, she shakes her head letting me know she didn’t did it on purpose -It’s time to leave- her head snaps up, eyes wide with surprise, she opens her mouth but no words come out -Sweet dreams- I whisper closing my eyes, she lifts a palm up with the word “KAI” written on it -Goodbye Kai- she disappears in a whirlwind of white lilies and when I open my eyes I’m blinded by the arm of an small redhead monster.

-Asshole- I murmur pushing her to her side of the bed and resting my head on her back, letting myself fall into a dreamless slumber.

#dreaming #au #whatever #i guess sometimes i have dreams were im other people and they go something like this #more like a retelling of my dreams instead of an actual story #writeblr

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messywordsss · 1 year

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Come write, I’ll be waiting for you

Stop. Stare. Write. Stop. Stare. Write.

What? what do I write about? The girl that looked for a soulmate and found a family? The boy that lost his and then gained another he never got used to? The fear they both faced to learn who they were and what they were doing with their lives. Do I talk about all the stupid shit they did? Do I make it fun? Sad? Pathetic? Do I write about myself? change my language, try another one, see if that makes me someone else, someone who I actually want to be instead of the disappointment I am right now? Do I mask myself as some dumb character, pretending to be the MC of some love story I don’t actually believe in but I fantasize about so that I can avoid life and responsibilities. Do I pretend I’m as stupid as I feel? What the fuck do I do when I don’t want to do anything? When I’m scared of even breathing the wrong way, when everything pulls me down and then I just forget about it because I don’t want to face it. How long until it becomes real? how long until I really forget who I am? How long until I actually know who that person is? So what? Do I write about the woman that left her life to find herself? The one that throw everything and everyone away and then drove until her tears wouldn’t let her see the road anymore. The woman that put her head down and walked into a strange town, asked for a job and pretended to be one more, just another common loner in the small town. And then she meets the love of her life, but she has to fuck up, or maybe he does, then more fuck up by other people and bum, love. It always wins, doesn’t it? Or does it win because we want it to? I could have the characters begging me to die, to live on their own or to run away again, but if I want love to win, I can just let it, because I say so. Because this stories live in my head and I am in control of them when my hands get on the keyboard and I forget about the world to focus on them. On my people. On the ones I can always count on because they don’t fucking exits. So if I say they find love with who I want them to, then they fucking do. And there it is again, what the hell do I write about? why do I curse like someone’s reading this? Fuck. Stop. Stare. Write. Stop. Stare. Wri- no, not that. Write. Yeah, that’s better. Don’t think, you don’t need to, you don’t have to make sense, you just have to put it out there, the other you, the one that understands reality, can come back later and put some sense into it, you don’t have to. Just let it flow. Yeah, just like that. Oh, so now you wanna write about the daughter of the gods, the ones that sound way too viking when you don’t know shit about them? Well, fuck, yeah, let’s do it. She is fierce, she’s careless, she cares though, so much it hurts, it bothers her, doesn’t let her be around other people. She needs to save everyone to have meaning, to save herself from her own head, to keep the voices at bay, to be someone she can look at in the mirror without screaming. Yeah, they’re friends, all of them, she loves them, she will save them. Such a noble hero, uh? She kills half the people in the story? Uh, well, they must have deserved it. Wait, no, no, don’t go. Why are you leaving the hero alone? Wait, no, don’t walk out of the story, she just saved her friend and showed the world who she truly was… Oh, you’re not here anymore. I’m getting tired of this, you know? You always walking out on me as soon as you put down the last word you thought about. I told you not to think. Stop. Stare. Write. Just follow the rules, you created them for fucks sake. Well, I guess I’ll just wait here for another one of you to sh— Hi, what do you wanna talk about? Uhm, a new hero? Okay, alright, let’s do it! She’s strong, good, morally gray, nice. She has powers people don’t know about, a girl she likes and would burn the world for, family and sense of humor? Shit, you have to be one of the best ones that had been here. Woah, wait, you’ve finished the story? She gets the girl and has to face a loss for it? I… I don’t know what to say, none of you have done this before, well two others have but they were pretty average if you know what I mean. Well, uh, it was nice to briefly meet you, hope you come ba—. You already left, okay. Guess, I’ll just sit back here and wait for another one.

#writting #block #bored #novel ideas #i have no idea where this came from #i was just bored and didn't want to work #this is the voice in my head that gets sad when i don't finish an idea i started #also known as my best friend who reads this shit #writeblr

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