Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Childhood "Dreams"

I look around me, where am I? I recognize this place, that swing, those trees. I realize that I'm in the park by my house, but where is everybody? I see the jungle gym, the monkey bars, the swings, and finally the trees that border the park, my park.

I can feel something before I can see it. A vibration in the ground that almost knocks me off my feet. It reminds me of when someone jumps too close to me on the trampoline. I feel an uneasiness in my stomach, and out of the corner of my eye,  a large shape appears.

It must be my imagination, it has to be. There is no way in hell that a dinosaur the size of half the park is coming my way. But no, the earth shaking tells me that it's not an illusion, it's a stegosaurus.

I slowly back away, then try to run, but as with all dreams, my feet feel like they're stuck in cement. Suddenly I'm far away from my house, but I have to warn my family. I try screaming at people nearby, "RUN!", but nobody hears me. They wouldn't believe me anyway. My heart pounds. I know there will be more. It will be too late.

Another, more massive dinosaur looms into view, a brontosaurus. He's moving slowly, but he's not happy. He has a baby with him, and he's protective. I try to run the other way. Danger is close. I can feel it in my bones.

My house is steps away, and I slam the door, my heart thumping in my chest, as a velociraptor bangs against the door. He can't get in. But I know what comes next. It always does. I hold my breath and look for a place to hide where he can't see me. His eye, bright and yellow and glaring, is staring at me suddenly from the floor to ceiling window in our entrance. I scramble to another room, the living room, but the tyrannosaurus takes a couple steps and sees me through the bay windows. It's too late to hide anywhere here, he's going to crash into my house at any moment.

For a split second I feel he might not be looking at me, and I bolt up the carpeted winding staircase and lunge into my room. By now he's realized that I'm gone from the living room, and I have seconds to hide behind my bed. At my bedroom window, I realize, he sees me. My foot. He can smell me now. I should have hid in my closet, there are no windows there. Do I have time? I'm frozen to the spot, unable to breathe for fear that it will break his still and that will be it. I can't even cry, I can't utter a sound, I can't call out, I'm stuck here.

I feel like the house is about to be broken apart, it shakes with such violence and the noise is deafening. He calls out, that high pitch cry. This is it. I close my eyes, and then someone calls my name.

Words of advice: Don't ever let your kids see Jurassic Park. This nightmare (along with one where it's a giant) haunted me for years. YEARS. Sure, I'm a pansy and I hate scary movies, but if your kid has any type of imagination, do not let them watch it. I actually still watch Jurassic Park when it comes on, it's sick, I know, but I can't help it. That scene with the velociraptors still scares the piss out of me. Now, aliens, that's another story. I could write a book on how many hours I lay frozen in my bed, deathly afraid that there were aliens in  my bedroom in the shadows. I would have killed for a simple boogey man.

I wrote this as the second writing prompt from Studio 30 Plus, the first was on Concrete. They're amazing, and I am in love with these writing prompts that get my creative juices flowing. Even if this one will probably result in nightmares night terrors.

Interesting how I call myself a strugglesaurus. Noting to talk to my therapist about this.


jerrod said...

I like strugglesaurus.

Katsidhe said...

I wish I could hug little girl Lex. :(

lex [lexinthecity] said...

Jerrod - I like her too.
Kat - she was cute, we're not sure what happened after puberty hit though.

Jewels said...

Aww! What is it with kids and scary dreams? The are terrifying and you never get over them--which is obvious because a lot of adults wrote about such dreams for this prompt! I was terrified for kid you! That's just not okay. I've never had a dinosaur feature in a dream but I can imagine how terrifying that would be.

laurenne said...

Aw! I think if you have an imagination, it doesn't matter what you watch. You'll still get crazy with it. But thankfully you had that scary dream because now you got a good post out of it!
I really don't believe you're over 30. WHATTT? Still can't believe it. Canadians age so well.

Anonymous said...

Just catching up... your parents (that would include me) did NOT let you see Jurassic Park until it was on TV with commercials and you were old enough. As a parent, the scene with T-Rex trying to get at the two kids in the car disturbed the crap out of me - thank you Mr. Speilberg.