Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 7/10/2019
By Fitful
I was in my apartment. I had three new dolls, male dolls, but they weren't getting on well in my home. They kept making leud innuendos, sexual overturns, bossing/forcing me around, making me do sexual things and kept talking all the time in a creepy possessed voice about the sexual stuff they'd do to me. I was afraid of them at night. I put them in the dresser drawer but I could still hear them talking. I was scared. One was my father, John. The dresser and the clothes in the dresser couldn't hold him, nor muffle his sexual talk. I was afraid to go to sleep, knowing he'd come over to my bed in the middle of the night. I put him in the bathroom. He had been a cross between Redmond Gore from the Teddy Scares line and Sam from Trick r Treat Living Dead Dolls line, the one talking and making leud innuendos but once he was in the bathroom he was human and naked and busy doing something. I was terrified of him. I quietly wrapped duct tape around the doorknob tying it to the door jam and other doorknob of the front door, trying to make sure he was trapped, but it didn't work. If he tried he could have broke it easily with strength and it kept falling off and I was afraid he'd find out I'd try and trap him and that would be worse. He'd kill me in his rage. My grandmother came home. She'd been visiting maybe. She was an old native American lady, a shaman, and she immediately began cooking. She took all the clothes I was trying to find a place for, the house was wrecked from the calamity of the three men, and I'd been trying to clean, and wet them right there wherever they were strewn over tables and on the floor and in my arms, and put soap and began washing. She cooked everything in my fridge, a whole weeks worth of grocery shopping. She made two different things of rice and these egg roll/tostito things and it all tasted amazing with simple ingredients. She made soi sauce taste like cheese. I was amazed. She told me a story, or we heard one on the radio, about magic and shaman magic. And how their fingers would twitch independently when they were filled with energy and that is how they cast. I wanted to learn, I asked her to teach me, I tried to tell her about all the work I'd done which made my fingers twitch independently as I was filled with energy/magic. She brushed it off and wouldn't even let me tell her. We spoke of my mother being powerful in magic, and of John. Both of them left me with a lot of power. Somehow even John's, and my mother's, negative toxic life patterns still made them powerful. John always went away for years but came back all forceful cruelty, it still meant he was powerful. My mother was frantic and passive and paranoid but she was still powerful, more powerful even as she was the reason she needed protecting, conguring all the scary. My grandmother told me all about it. It's why I was so powerful. The both of them, and their negativity, gave me powerful legacy of magic. We spoke quitely. John was still in the bathroom. Two of my dates for that evening arrived. Because of what had happened I had my scheduling skewed so they both showed up at the same time. My grandmother took them aside and told them I'd been raped and what had happened and to be very gentle with me. She had been raped too, she said it matter of factly, she'd been in the other room. I didn't even recall all that happening, I recalled them wanting to rape me and talking about forcing me to rape others. The vision of this conversation came in little dollhouse chairs. Somehow those chairs equated to those words. My grandmother served the food and left. My dates were very small, one looked like a toy, he sat at a tiny dollhouse table on the floor in the middle of the room. My grandmother served him on tiny plates and a tiny cup. My grandmother left. The other date was there too I'm not sure maybe folded and in a box? Both were very concerned about me, ginger with handling me on the date. When my grandmother left she told me to forgive her for not saving me. She'd been trying and failing to save herself. She didn't seem to expect much, she was hard and cold and tired and seemed hollow too, in shock maybe. I didn't even realize I was angry but I was. Angry at her. I blamed her. It was her fault. She did that to me, she did it. She didn't even try to protect me. I felt so dirty and used. I took some time to pull off all the makeup they had made me wear, I had looked like an anime character. I got it all off but the eyebrows. I tried to eat dinner with the dates. The salad got served, very very chopped up, but as we were tiny when we ate the food was enormous. It was hard to even eat much salad, it very filling when it was normal size and we were tiny. They teased me about eating more than a single piece. The single piece was larger than my head. I somehow got upset by not having something on hand and decided to run to the store. Mostly I wanted out of that house, away from their gentle careful attention. I left, walking out. I was still dressed as they, the three men/male dolls, had dressed me. I looked very hot, wearing black snakeskin fake leather pants, but it made me uncomfortable. I barely remembered walking down the street until I was halfway down the dirt road. I was in shock. I had a red grocery basket in my hands already. I looked and realized I had forgotten my wallet and keys. I only had a spare set of keys. I had to have my wallet to buy things. I had to go back and get it and my real keys. I turned around and ran into a dude lying in the dirt as I was wishing aloud for a cigarette. He got up offering me one of his, but I had found a whole box of them in the grocery basket. I told him I didn't smoke hadn't in years. In my head I felt I was deserved one cigarette after what I'd just been through. He searched for a lighter and came up with a memo pad of paper. I flipped through the pad and used one piece for the ashes. It turned out to be his tarot readers name and number. He remarked on the words the men had drawn on me when, when the incident I didn't remember happened. I was still in those sexy black pants they had put me in. I still felt dirty. The word he read was voodoo. It was drawn across my left thigh I hadn't read it, hadn't dared look down there, the words painted on felt sticky and white and gross. He read it aloud and looked taken aback and admiring. He admired my figure. I still felt hollow, brave enough or in shock enough to simply not care. I told him I preferred hoodoo and about the paper I took being maybe an important number, all his papers were filled so I had no choice. He said I'd just have to fill in for her, read his tarot instead. He said I'd be $40 in my pocket now. I was too washed out emotionally to care but I did try and write down some contact information so he could email me for that reading. I hadn't started the site yet, nor the email address yet, but I wrote it down anyway the name I had planned. It was hard to write. I wrote the title backwords using a silver glitter pen. I never did get a lighter to have that cigarette.