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Showing posts with label cornfield. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cornfield. Show all posts

Monday, May 20, 2019

Commando



I can transport from my current home to the house I lived in ten years ago. All I have to do to initiate transportation is to blink.

One night, I am walking through my current house. Some of the lights are on, but not many. The backlight turns off on its own. It's probably a raccoon or groundhog. I step to the back door to check and see a man standing a few feet from the door. I walk to the front room. Suddenly, I've transported to the other house three hours away. I walk to the large family room window. Across the street is a cornfield. To keep the local vermin known as children away from the crop, the farmer erected a fence. I see a naked man struggling to climb the barrier. When he finally makes it over, he begins walking toward me.

I grab a pair of binoculars and have a stakeout in my living room. My mom is here with me. I try to focus to see the man. Something catches my eye, but it isn't him. Just outside the front window, I planted a garden. My corn is around ten feet high. It is June at the moment. They say knee-high by the fourth of July. Dream ends.

I wake up

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Camp Stupid

Dream 11.18.17



I'm living at my old house in Middletown, Indiana. My family and I grow many animals. These animals are not earthly. For example, there is one that has the shape of a tadpole but is big and hairy like a groundhog. He hides in a bush. I try to get him out but am unsuccessful. Later, I find him dead in a fish tank. I put on a pair of rubber gloves and fish him out.

We hear a noise in the cornfield across the street. My sister, Morgan, runs toward the field. This scares me because who knows what is out there making that noise. She disappears in the corn. I hear other voices. I walk inside the crop and find a few strangers. One of them may or may not be a witch.

A youth camp is being held at my house. My dad is one of the leaders. We are being divided into two teams - red and blue - for sports and activities. The red team gets first pick. The leaders of the camp, including my dad, pick the three most athletic kids in camp to be on the red team. Then, they only pick one person for the blue team and then return to red. By the time the teams are chosen, one can see a huge difference in the two. The red team is by far the superior force. The blue team is filled with weaklings and nerds. I am on the blue team. The red team members are wearing red colored raggedy Ann wigs.

I am not usually someone who speaks out for the cause of fairness. I think "survival of the fittest" is fair enough, but this is just ridiculous. I stand up and confront the leaders in front of everyone. I slowly walk toward them as I ridicule their bias decision of picking teams. I walk over a bridge. There is a bridge in my house. By the time, I am done speaking, I am standing right in front of them. My dad pulls me aside to talk.

The teams are disbanded. They are then reassembled in a more honest manner. While this is being done, I go and stand by myself with my arms crossed. I can tell that the former red team members are angry with me. They had a winning team and I threw a wrench in their plans. In my mind I think that they probably don't like me but they at least respect me for standing up to injustice. I find out that I am still on the blue team, which is fine, since they are more even now. A few individuals on the teams have different colored bands on their sleeve. One boy with a band is told that he will be the medic for the blue team. He starts hyperventilating, saying that he himself has medical issues and cannot accept the duties of the medic. I find that I have four different colored bands on each of my arms. They tell me that I am the foreigner of the team. I have no idea what that means.

There is a boy at this camp. He is pale and bald. He looks like Jason Voorhees as a child or a war boy from Mad Max: Fury Road. Something is odd about this boy. I don't think he is human. It may be a little redundant at this point, but this is just the way my mind works, I think he is a demon. His face reminds me of Chucky from Child's Play. He gives everyone trouble. My dad tells me to watch the boy while he goes somewhere. Somehow, I shrink the boy. He is now 1 inch tall. I keep him in a small dollhouse that I hold in my hands. With his demonic abilities, he continually morphs the dollhouse to give me trouble. I keep my fingers away from the windows for fear that he will stab me.

My dad returns. He needs to give the boy a bath. Someone later tells me that the boy looks like a crocodile lying in the tub. I can see into the future. I find that my dad will build onto this house, a small bedroom and invite this boy to live with us. The boy will then become a serial killer. I tell my dad this. It doesn't seem to phase him. After the boy gets out of the tub and dries off, I notice that he is taller and has hair. He is now an old friend of mine from middle school named Kirk. He puts his hand out and I shake it. Dream ends.

I wake up

Monday, February 8, 2016

The Practice

Dream 2/8/2016


Girls from my class are playing a pickup game of basketball. I decide to join in on the fun.

     As I'm playing, I look over to the bleachers and see my baseball coach, Mr. Allen. I walk over to him. He tells me that he has a special baseball glove for me and he wants me to be his relief pitcher in the 9th inning. The glove is quite small and is covered in Velcro. My friend, Tim, tells me that we should go practice.

     We board a school bus and take off looking for a nice patch of land to throw the ball around. We drive through some poverty stricken neighborhoods and then drive out to the country. All we see are corn fields and the occasional 100 year old barn with the roof caved in. We find a place to practice next to an abandoned house. The house looks like it was burned up in a fire. We explore. We encounter ghosts of the people who used to live here. The ghosts are hostile. Dream ends.

I wake up