Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 5/15/2019
By Fitful
I was with an old woman, family member maybe and I we were playing with a Ouija board. "Fair warning I watched a scary ghost summoning video before bed." The woman asked. "Why'd you do something like that?" "I don't know, wanted to be scared I guess. I turned it off after five minutes. Too much for me." We continued to play with the ouija board. We sat in an open area, like a mall cafeteria or a park. It was like opponents playing a game. But the game was Oujia. I didn't like it and said so in this disgusted speal. "You don't mess with ouija boards," I kept saying. "I might want one, the Emily the Strange: I See one, but it's an aesthetic thing. I think it's pretty. You don't actually use it." I sounded very self righteous and after a moments thought I acknowledged to myself I really liked the ouija board motif. I had a pair of earrings which were planchettes. I frowned at my own hypocrisy. "Well I wouldn't use it if I had it-" But I stopped realizing I was being untruthful. "Well I might use it once to see what it was like." Again I was stretching the truth. "Okay maybe I'd use it all the time." I sighed. "Probably I shouldn't get one." With that decision made I leaned back and the piece on the board, which was now also a chess and checkers board in addition to being a Ouija board, moved abruptly on its own. The pieces was a pink paw piece, like from a different game. Then beside it a black pawn or a rook moved by itself. I shook my head. The old woman jumped a bit startled. "Now you did it, I said half accusing and half resigned. "You woke the spirit up. It was sleeping. It's probably angry you woke it." ~ I was dreaming about being in a cafeteria. This was was clearly a cafeteria this time, in a hospital maybe. I was with someone, a woman, family, in a short skirt which was tight but business like. She ordered and I didn't speak up, she ordered the same thing for both of us. When the food came it was a chicken sandwich. The sandwich lay so the thick white chicken slices were the most visible taking up the majority of the sandwich and red basket it was in. Staring at the food I felt revulsion, like it was staring back at me. The slices were bone white and dry and I knew what they'd taste like. My mouth felt dry at the thought and I could remember the taste of chicken. I felt like I was looking at something offensive. I realized I could not eat it. I couldn't even allow it to be bought, it was against my morals. I took it back up to the counter and told the casheer I didn't order meat. She was nasty and said I had and looked at it with disgust muttering about how it wouldn't be a sandwich if she took the meat off. All which was left would be lettuice. She pulled off mayonnaise and lettus pinching with her thumb and index finger like IT was what was disgusting and toosed it at the counter trash bin with ire. I didn't answer but thought sweet potato, salad, and tomato on a sandwich looked pretty good to me as I walked away from the counter and her rage. Maybe not worth $6.99 but still pretty good. I went back to my seat. Me and my companion weren't getting along. She and I were having one of those silent spells in the midst of an argument. I wondered if the cashier knew. I was having a bad day. She seemed so put out I didn't order properly, and I really hadn't spoke up before even if I said I did. I was embarrassed I hadn't spoken up for myself but been cowed into almost people pleasing instead of pleasing my own sense of integrity. It was why I lied, the embarrassment. But upset people were to be expected in a hospital, I thought. She can't fault everyone for what would be traumatic days for them. Then I wondered if maybe SHE was having a bad day and I needed to be more sympathic. The woman, my companion left for the restroom. I think she was an older sister. I drank my cream soda, a large one in a styrofoam cup with a lid which hadn't been punctured yet. It made that noise when you first push the straw through. The cafeteria was mostly empty. Suddenly the world felt like it imploded. The building was intact but blood was everywhere, people wounded and bleeding and stunned like it was a war. The air was white and clouded with debris. I was frantically crawling to escape. It was like they were bombing, the building didn't look all there. Black scorch marks decorated the walls. And the people, the ones left looked terrified, the others were zombies. The dead had come back and were eating people. The rest were frantic to escape. I didn't know it, the timeline split off like omniscient narration half going to me in a different part of the dream, but the woman who was kind to us was an escapee of the metal ward, a very ustable woman. She was the mother of someone in the other part of the dream. She wasn't a good person to let out. She played her part to the t however, acting sweet and motherly to me and my sister who was injured to the point of unconsciousness. ~ There was a girl in a kitchen. I was her for a bit. She was meeting with her father who was a villian. He had recently got out of jail or something like it. It was she who had the mother in the insane asylum. She kept arguing with him, about how he never cared and came around. She was disgusted with all he ever did. He was careless and didn't apologize or try. But again the world imploded, the same implosion, and the kitchen was suddenly in shambles. He had been wounded fatally by the sink and clutched his wounded chest dying. She was beside herself, she didn't like him or know him but he was her father. She didn't want him to die. They shared a tearful heartfelt goodbye. ~ There was a little girl in my room when I woke up. My room looked the same and she was standing beside my bed looking terrified, like she'd get in trouble. She looked about age 9-13. She wore a brown plain Victorian gown and I was so shocked I had to open my eyes a few times, removing blankets in the way, asking what she wanted. She was so scared of being there, said something I didn't hear and raced for the door. I followed, falling out of bed. I kept looking, peeking around the corner, peering through the slowly swinging door, wondering if I was crazy, seeing her who wasn't there, like a hallucination. I'd never had them before and I wondered if I'd started now. Half of me was afraid of being crazy. The other half afraid I wasn't and I'd gained a new skill. I had felt her, put my hands on her warm chest and pushed her back a few times just to make sure she was actually there. She'd worn a corset maybe. I felt awe and I fear I could see a ghost. The door closed. And I stood against the wall in the hallway a few moments my heart racing, then I open the door. A boy stood there, a black boy in brown short shorts and suspenders, a white shirt. He looked upset, I closed the door in fear but I heard in my head he didn't know what to do. Suddenly, once the door was closed I thought about it and realized HE was also scared and I calmed down. I opened the door feeling empathy now and asked him what was wrong. He came inside and told me I had to reduce my sick days, it was the only way to help him. Somehow people's sick days were connected to the dead and their suffering. His wound, a red dripping thing from his hand was actually red yarn connected to me by a red string. He led me to the window. My window had transformed into a wall of windows looking outside into London. Maybe the room had changed to that of a dark warehouse. He said I could go now. "Go?" I asked, "Go where?" "Go," he repeated pushing a hand to the window or I put mine on the glass. It was cold, like window pane is in the winter. I was confused for a moment but suddenly with a start I woke up breathing fast.