Dying in Dreams

Beep.beep.beep. Except I can't see the alarm clock. The alarm clock doesn't really exist. In this place lies disordered lines ] and circles, but mostly confusion. Usually this noise leads me out of my dream world. I look around to see that I am in fact still in my dream world, as if the clock wasn't enough evidence of that. My room IS my room and gives that feeling, at first instinct. Really, it is unproportional windows and furniture I got rid of years ago.

And I now remember that beep. Beep. beep is a sound I haven't heard since 9th grade. Even if I still had that alarm clock it certainly wouldn't be used for the purpose of waking me up from dreams. I haven't dreamt since 9th grade.

In that point of my life I had mastered the skill of lucid dreaming. I could have a normal life during the day and experience the extraordinary at night.

And that's just what I seemed to be doing now since I'm realizing that I'm in this dream consciously. Clocks and computers used to always tell me when I'm in a dream, my mind just can't recreate them right.

I step out of my new room which in the last few seconds I turned into a luxury suite. I want to remind you that what felt like a few seconds in a dream probably isn't even equivalent to one second in the waking world.

I see the world outside my room and think that I shouldn't have wasted those nanoseconds in the real world since I'm probably bound to be woken up by that damn alarm clock in a very short amount of time.

I try to change this scene I see but I cannot. I try many times. I've never had an instance where I couldn't teleport to a new place, or change a hell-like landscape into a fairy tale. So I try to wake up, because in the real world I'm probably missing my shot at breakfast. I cannot wake up and I'm stuck here.

Out of all my dreams my brain chose to trap me inside of this one.
I see human beings. I don't think I could bring myself to even engage with them. You can see through their skin and into their bodies. Their skin is cut up all around, pouring rotten blood. The worst is their black, glowing, angry eyes. In conclusion, I don't think I should even call them human beings. Clear zombies might be even more fitting, but they don't want my brains. They say they want their money back. They clearly need it; they're skinny and they seem to be living in old shacks of cardboard. I attempt to generate money to escape this but nothing works for me.


Looking into their eyes gives me that feeling when my mom used to ask to look through my texts and check my grades. Contrasting from their skinny and weak physique, their deep black eyes give me a feeling of inferiority. These voids of eyes tell me that I will most definitely lose this battle. So I run because it is the only option where I won't have to look at those eyes again.

Lucid dreaming, for me, was like a premium subscription to dreams. You don't have to worry about being chased by creepy old dolls, or falling thousands of feet to your death. I felt like my premium subscription was running out now.

When I tried to sprint away from these beings I noticed I wasn't moving anywhere. These zombies weren't fast but they were definitely getting way too close.

I thought that maybe if I scared myself enough I'd wake up. So, I remain and let these clear zombies approach me. I watch their hearts pump blood rapidly, as they get excited for their victim. I am scared, but not enough. They don't seem vicious, they'd probably just search me for money. For me to wake up they'd have to basically rip me to shreds. I don't scare easily, but this whole situation is starting to get to me.

They inch forward with their muscle deprived legs, and empty stomachs. I observe all the functions and commotions going on inside their body. I don't know much about human anatomy but they definitely had suffered some hardships to their bodies.

In those seconds or nanoseconds that followed, I really shouldn't have been able to see what took place in front of me. I see a toddler on a man's back. He still has both sets of teeth and you can see them coming out in front of his baby teeth, like you would see in a shark's mouth. These teeth bite into my eyes and I see my red stained eyes drip down onto the ground. Maybe they're eye zombies, instead of money zombies. It'd sure be ironic as they really didn't have eyes to my knowledge. But, regular zombies don't really have brains either.



Suddenly, I am in a different world. My eyes are filling with a color as blank as paper and I'm inhaling weakly. It almost sounds like a wheeze. In those few seconds it take me to inhale I begin to see this blankness transform into a beige room with three or four walls. They're shaking and recreating themselves in my vision that I cannot tell. I get a wave of adrenaline. Then, I see the arm of either a skeleton or a dying old man. It writes out the words, "I will always love you." I assume that this dying arm is mine and I want to weep but I am prevented from doing so. In my last moments in this world I see an angel tattoo on my arm, the angel takes off into the fluorescent ceiling lights.

I feel like I've been unconscious for eternity when I discover myself in another dream. Instead of eye hungry zombies I see my childhood dog, and the girl I promised myself I could not live without.

I feel younger in this place, just like how I felt in 9th grade when I was a dreamer who fell in love. I look like I did too. There are no hole on the inside of my arm and no cheap tattoos on me anywhere. I can tell that this is all real, something post 9th grade me couldn't do.

This place I stand isn't a perfect utopia. Which is good because almost all utopias are disguised dystopias. The thing preventing this moment from being completely perfect is that the girl I loved so much doesn't recognize me. On the good side this means I am set back before my life fell apart. In another world she ended my life, but in this one I am almost certain she is the source of my life.