Danny Dreams Again: Dismemberment, Dead Women & Great Big Holes

There is something going on. I think its a bad sign.
Dreams about murder don't bother me, thoughts about murder don't bother me. Thoughts of death don't bother me. Shit, I've watched more than a few people die. I look death in the eye often. I'm basically obsessed with death. But this...this is death calling for me in a way I don't want it to. I've envisioned my death, planned it on some occasions, but these dreams with dead people pulling me into death. I'm losing the control that I crave, that I need. It's spinning out of control. 

Fucked up dreams returneth. Last night and then the night before. The first night after the whole rim-job fiasco, I was at the grocery store by our old house, it was done like it was when I was younger. I was running late, just trying to get everything and go. I was meeting someone I guess or I just wanted to get home. All I know and remember if there was somewhere that I needed to be. I got into the till line and the woman in front of me turned around and said: “Oh, good you got here!” I looked up to see it was younger Barb, she was in her mid-50’s like I was when I was a child.  She was putting stuff on on the counter like a mad woman. Once again, I knew she was dead but she didn’t seem to be aware of it; it was either she didn’t know or didn’t want to acknowledge it.
She was putting up cold cuts. “I got a few things we needed for the house.” I was annoyed that she hadn’t asked me what was needed and that I had to spend time backtracking. I knew it was a dream. I knew this wasn’t real, but I wanted to see how far it went. ( I was scared to see if rim jobs would come up again in the story and was hoping to fuck that if they did I’d be able to jolt awake and not have to see that again.) 

I put my items up behind hers and she kept telling me to hurry, that we’re in a rush, we need to get somewhere. I looked out through the glass windows in the store and it was grey and overcast. The grey had evil tones in it. It felt so unsettling, like in the nightmare I had last week. She turned to me and said, “Danny, honey, you’re late. You need to join us.” She held out her hand and it was filled with cold-cuts, meats and cheese. “Take my hand, you know you want to.” And then I woke up, upset, hear pounding. 

 

....

Then last night was probably one of the most twisted since the travel job dream. 

I was in my first childhood home, but I an adult, in my early 20’s. Like 22? I was living on a different continent then. I knew it was a dream. I had that feeling where I was stood there watching myself.  There was this carpet covering a hole in the old lounge area. it went from one of the interior walls to the fireplace which was on the exterior wall. I’d panic that if I walked over the rug, that with my weight, I’d fall through. I tiptoed across anything was wrong.  I signed with relief or so I thought; then I realised it was hotter than ever in the house. I looked around the room and saw the fireplace was lit and burning and there were flames circling around the room, dancing in their passion. It kinda felt like Hell. (But I don’t believe in Hell. I don’t believe in Heaven. I’m not sure what, but there’s something beyond the grave, something beyond this little field of dreams.) 

I head down the small little hall that connected the lounge to the kitchen. The tiles were inhumanly bright and white. Everything was sterile clean. Once I wasn’t blinded I looked around and saw that everything had been changed from brick coloured tile and soft cedar wood to everything metallic. It was some sort of bizarre operating theatre.  There were people in white surgical gowns and masks. The kitchen area that connected to our dining area was drapped in white plastic sheeting and an operating table was in the middle of the room. The porch that connected off the back of the house was filled with black shadows of onlookers, eyes glowing orange, notepads in hands. I couldn't make out any of their facial features. I wondered who they were going to be operating on.  I must have been invisible because even though I'm stood in the middle of the room, people are moving around me like I'm not there. I watch as they set a body bag on the table. It's one of those bizarre, glazed white sort of body bags. They unzip it and a woman sits up and inhales. She's got creamy, pink-white skin. Brown and caramel coloured hair that cascades down her back. She's naked. Despite being in her 40's, her breasts stand out perfect; round, voluptuous. I wonder to myself if she'd had her breasts done. 
She looks over, blows a kiss at me, crosses her arms and lays back down inside the bag. They zip it up once more. lay their hands on her and step back. They hang their heads, look over in my direction, but look through me and step back to the body.  When they unzip it this time, it's my mother laying in the bag. She's dead. The start her with the T-incision, cutting across her chest, starting about mid armpit, cutting across quickly, but with precision. They reposition the scalpel and begin slicing down to her pubic bone. Then they pull back the skin and muscle flaps snakes crawl out. There's not a single organ inside, she's completely filled with snakes. They slide her onto the little conveyer belt and push her through a slit they've cut in the wall. She's dumped into the giant hole in the lounge area. They covered it up with the rug again.

I turned away to see what the fuck was going on and when I looked back a white sheet had replaced the rug. It was one of those large sheets you see on gurneys. And it was Ralph holding one end of the sheet. He was younger too like he was when I was a kid when I lived in the house. He looked up and smiled. He was nice like when I was younger. He reached out to me. "Come on, take the end. Don't be a baby, Dan. Help me pull this off!" I took an edge of the sheet and we pulled it away to reveal a beautiful hardwood floor. "What do you think?" "It's amazing!" Then he smiled again at me and said, "Good, cause you're next!" Then I woke up.

I'm not even going to try to make an assessment of these dreams. I want them to go the fuck away and leave me alone. I have enough shit in my waking life and I don't need this shit bothering me at night. Night is supposed to be my time of relief.