Celluloid Dreams

     I found myself within the hallowed halls of the RED LETTER MEDIA headquarters, a sanctuary of cinematic nostalgia. Room after room brimmed with the relics of a bygone era, VHS tapes piled high like towers of forgotten memories. The air carried the weight of countless hours spent lost in celluloid dreams.

     Amidst this labyrinth of analog treasures, a figure emerged from the shadows—Jack Packard, the harbinger of cinephile wisdom. With a knowing smile, he confirmed my suspicions, acknowledging the existence of another video store hidden away on the upper floor. A realm yet unexplored, beckoning with the allure of undiscovered gems.

     We embarked on separate paths, Jack leading the way as I ventured deeper into the heart of the house. Each step carried the anticipation of revelation, the sense that the secrets of this cinematic haven were on the cusp of unveiling themselves.

     In a quiet bedroom, I sought respite upon a well-worn bed, its history embedded in the very fabric of the room. A flicker of movement caught my eye—a feline intruder, its gaze fixed upon me. "Here kitty kitty," I cooed, inviting the creature closer. But innocence belied its true nature as it lunged, claws sinking into my flesh. Laughter bubbled from my lips, an incongruous response to the chaotic mix of pain and adoration.

     A voice in the background offered a peculiar suggestion—to wave and greet the cat as a gesture of goodwill. I complied, hoping to quell the storm brewing within this unpredictable creature. But my efforts were in vain, as it pounced once more, its playfulness edged with a dangerous charm.

     Guided by an invisible hand, I found myself in a room where Jack stood in the company of Jay Bauman. The glass window before us revealed a private domain—a shower stall occupied by Mike Stoklasa. The room hummed with electric anticipation, a hidden power waiting to be unleashed.

     Four buttons adorned the wall, beckoning us to play with the unknown. Jack's finger met one of them, and water cascaded from the showerhead, an innocuous act amidst this peculiar setting. And then, my gaze fell upon a button, an enigmatic invitation that read, "Are You Afraid of the Dark?"

     Driven by curiosity and a hunger for the unexpected, I pressed the button, igniting a chain of events. Green slime, reminiscent of Nickelodeon's playful mischief, descended from above, landing with a sickening splatter upon Mike Stoklasa's unsuspecting head.

     In that moment, the boundaries between reality and surrealism blurred, as if the very essence of cinema had taken on a life of its own. Laughter mingled with the discomfort, an amalgamation of joy and unease that seemed to define this enigmatic realm.

     Within the RED LETTER MEDIA headquarters, I had ventured into uncharted territories, where the whimsical and the uncanny danced a peculiar waltz. And as I stood before the glass window, witnessing the aftermath of my impulsive act, I couldn't help but wonder what other wonders—and horrors—awaited me in this surreal domain of cinephile enchantment.

I wake up

A Quarter 'Til Extinction

    The bustling streets of New York City served as the backdrop to our unplanned detour, leading my sister and me to the doorstep of an elderly couple's house. As we entered their abode, a sense of unease settled upon my shoulders, for I knew all too well the importance of respecting one's dwelling. But my sister, oblivious to such concerns, carelessly trampled through their sanctum, stoking the flames of my frustration.

     Voicing my discontent, I admonished her for her lack of regard, demanding that she recognize the significance of our intrusion. She shrugged off my words, nonchalantly suggesting that I inquire if we could seek shelter within the confines of this unfamiliar dwelling. Exasperated, we stepped outside into the cityscape, where the twin towers loomed in the distance, casting long shadows over our uncertain future.

     News of an impending catastrophe reached our ears—an apocalyptic comet hurtling toward our fragile planet. Whispers of doom echoed through the air, as some proclaimed it to be an extinction-level event. Determined to devise a survival strategy, my family and a select few friends convened at a restaurant, hoping to find solace and a glimmer of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

     Deep beneath the surface of our collective fears, a singular idea emerged—to seek refuge far below ground. My father, ever resourceful, recalled a hatch nestled within a nearby golf course, its depths shrouded in mystery. Yet, an unsettling revelation followed, as he revealed that he had overheard faint voices emanating from within, hinting at a clandestine presence.

     In the midst of our deliberations, a family friend, veiled in secrecy, led us to a hidden staircase—a portal to the unknown depths of the earth. Hope mingled with trepidation as we descended into the bowels of the earth, a motley crew bound by a shared desire to outlive the imminent cataclysm. Alas, our steps did not go unnoticed, for a group of wayward miscreants trailed behind, their intentions veiled in malice.

     Amidst the chaos, a figure representing workplace safety protocols chastised us, his fury ignited by our reckless disregard for OSHA guidelines. Panic gripped us, scattering our once united front. The malicious horde pursued me relentlessly, their malevolence manifesting in a vicious assault upon my person.

     As I stumbled homeward, bloodied and battered, the weight of impending doom and the twisted nature of humanity pressed upon my weary shoulders. In the face of an approaching cosmic reckoning, it seemed that even the bonds of friendship and the sanctity of safety guidelines were but fragile threads, torn asunder by the brutality of those who embraced chaos in the twilight of our existence.

I wake up

All Along The Watchtower

Dream 2.16.2018

I am working as a wrestler and writer for the WWE. A match in which I am appearing is about to begin. As I am cutting a promo with Triple H, I forget my lines. I run to the sheet of paper and nervously shuffle through the pages to find what I am supposed to say. It is obvious to the crowd that I've messed up. The match is about to begin. It's a three on three tag team match. Someone takes my place. I'm not upset about this. I need a break. I leave the show with Stephanie McMahon. We drive to a nearby grocery store. Later on, I think to pitch an idea to the company for a match. Stone Cold Steve Austin vs Shane McMahon. In my mind, this could be the biggest match in history.

The WWE is also The Honor Academy. The two are one and the same. All the interns climb a tower. I follow. It is many steps to the top. When I arrive, I see Vince McMahon in his office. He yells at me for not being in the right place. I walk to the center of the tower where dozens of interns are eating lunch. I grab a seat by my friend Derek. The table is a large, round table in a circular room. One couldn't easily talk to the person directly in front of them without talking loudly. Harrison Ford is in the opposite seat on the other side of the table. He is angry and yelling at the interns. I feel an air of status from him as if he is tired of these low life interns taking up his oxygen. He yells at the interns to be quiet as he walks into an office with big, open windows. I overhear his conversation as he picks up the phone. He says to the person on the other line, "yes, let me read what it says in this magazine and you see if it matches." I have a feeling that he is working on WWE business.

Derek and I finish our lunch. As he walks down the tower steps, I walk over to where Harrison is sitting. He along with many interns is watching the World Series on a TV mounted on the wall. I sit there as well, two seats away from the celebrity. He yells at the interns again. I notice that the interns are all wearing backward hats while I am wearing mine forward.

I walk down the steps of the tower and realize that the trip down was faster than the one up. I meet a girl who was an intern at the HA but I cannot remember her name. She has blonde hair and is shorter than me. She and I walk and talk. We mosey over to a rollercoaster that isn't supposed to be running but some interns have turned it on. As we watch the rollercoaster and some other rides, I tell her about a dream I once had (Chills and Thrills). I start to like this girl. As we walk in a parking garage, I notice someone taking my cat, Tandy, away. I take him back. I have to send him home to Indiana because he is no longer allowed here. I lose the blonde girl. We become disconnected. I don't know her name. I remember, however, that she returned a book with a yellow cover. I walk to the top of the tower where she returned it. I find it and look. Her name is inscribed on the first page.

I wake up.

The Island of Horrors

I've bought a ticket for the Titanic. While on the ship, I grab onto an airplane and ride it up to the sky. I let go and freefall to earth. Before I hit the ground, I type into the computer /home. When I type this, I appear back on the Titanic. I freefall from the airplane several times and then reappear on the giant ocean liner. I call my sister to tell her about how good it feels to fall from the sky at such an incredible speed.

The ship starts to sink. Everyone panics. The passengers get dropped off at a location. I stay on board. I suggest that we search for land so that we can live in a cave. The captain finds land. It's a large island. The ship can only transport a handful of passengers at a time.

On the island, they are building giant buildings to house everyone from the ship. I explore. I find my assigned room. There is a girl with short, blonde hair in the room. She is a friend. The rest of our roommates have yet to arrive.

I walk with my friends around the island. My friend Jose points at an area of water near the coast and tells me to never swim there because the tide is too strong. He tells me about one of the passengers who ventured to that area and they found him with a slit throat.

I see a light in the sky. It can't be an airplane because the year is 1912. I take out my smartphone and zoom into the light so I can take a picture. While zoomed in, I see another island with people living on it. I zoom in and see a few people sitting at a pub. I become scared when one of the people turns and looks right at me. I am miles away. They can't possibly see me with human eyes.

I move the camera around and look at other areas of the island. I see a hideous humanoid creature peaking its head over a hill. He is looking right at me. The creature begins running toward us. We scatter in fear. I run to my room and hide. The creature is at my door. I lock it and hold it closed. I look behind me, there is nothing. I look back at the door. I look behind me again, there is nothing. When I look back at the door, there are two people pointing toward the door. The door swings open and the demon stands before me.

Demons chase the passengers throughout the island. Most are killed. One demon has stilts for arms. I learn a truth. If you don't look the demon in the eyes, they cannot hurt you. I walk through the town that we built. I see no one. I walk over to an area where the demons and their minions are waiting for me. I look at the ground as I approach. They taunt me but never hurt me. I knight appears within the meeting place. He is pure white. The demons fear him.

I wake up

Terror In The Towers

    I'm at the top of one of the WTC towers. Most people have evacuated due to a plane crashing into the building. I still see a young woman sitting at a table and one or two others roaming about. A helicopter drops a terrorist into the building. We play a game of cat and mouse for a bit. I become anxious when the terrorist is near the young woman sitting at the table. The first time, he doesn't see her but when he is near her again, I know that he sees her. I yell at him to draw his attention to me. We fight with guns. I have a pistol. I shoot him.

    When the terrorist is dead and no one else is around. I plan to make my way to ground level. I open two doors and find a room full of terrorists. I grab a machine gun and mow them down but many of them aren't affected by the bullets. One man leads me on a chase through the upper hallways and offices of the tower. He has a small bird. I shoot at the bird but cannot hit it. The terrorist mocks me for missing.

    We have seventy minutes before the tower collapses. My friend, an older gentleman starts down the stairs. 100+ stories. We finally make it to the bottom level with 12 minutes left until demolition. The man says that he needs to go to the gift shop and get some new clothes because he doesn't want to meet my family looking the way he does. We go down a set of stairs to the gift shop. Many others are shopping. In an instant, the whole world begins to shake. I find a door that leads into an underground chamber. Many others and I run into it. We see the ceiling of the chamber sink in. We keep running through the chambers until we make it outside. I find my family.


I wake up

Shake Junt

    Within the pulsating heart of the city, my friend Adam and I found ourselves drawn to a peculiar strip club—a place unlike any other. Its very essence reverberated with an amusement park's whimsical allure, a carnival of tantalizing desires. Multiple buildings stood before us, each promising a distinct experience, a unique passage into a world of sensual indulgence.

    As we crossed the threshold, an employee's voice pierced through the cacophony, directing our attention to a red door—an invitation to embark upon the water slides of this erotic wonderland. But my curiosity, mingled with a hint of rebellion, led me astray. Ignoring the beckoning call, I ventured away from the teeming crowd, seeking solace within a quiet enclave.

    Finding respite in the hallowed sanctuary of the restroom, I shed my mundane attire, replacing it with garments more befitting this enticing realm. With wallet in hand, I meticulously counted my funds, pondering the cost of a seductive lap dance. Sorting my bills from humble ones to extravagant hundreds, my eyes fell upon an unexpected denomination—a three-dollar bill. Its peculiarity failed to strike me as profoundly as it should, for within this beguiling domain, even the fabric of currency seemed to warp with curious intent. With a nonchalant shrug, I departed the lavatory, prepared to seize the pleasures that awaited.

    Navigating through the labyrinthine corridors, my path led me astray, veering me into a darkened park. The air grew heavy with a palpable anticipation, as scantily clad women wandered the grounds. Yet, the scene unfolding before my eyes diverged from the expected. Two enigmatic buildings loomed, their walls adorned with an array of mirrors. A sinister inkling ignited within me, whispering that these reflective surfaces concealed voyeuristic delights. Succumbing to temptation, I pressed my face against the glass, peering through the veil of mystery.

    But a voice, a warning from the depths of my conscience, cautioned against such indulgence. Ignoring the admonishment, I pressed on, my eyes meeting a twisted tableau beyond imagination. Naked men and women stood frozen, locked within a purgatorial realm of punishment—a prison for those who dared misbehave within the strip club's tantalizing grasp. Bewilderment and fascination intertwined as the truth unfurled before me, casting a dark shadow upon the façade of sensual ecstasy.

    Retreating from the park's haunting embrace, I resumed my pursuit of the main building, my heart aflutter with the promise of witnessing the graceful undulations of the female form, a private performance meant solely for my eyes. Side by side with Adam, we entered an auditorium ablaze with fervor, where a stripping man commanded the stage. Adorned by a chorus of naked women, he captivated the frenzied crowd. Seeking solace in our designated seats, I cast a glance at Adam, his laughter echoing through the air, hinting at secrets untold.

    In a disorienting twist of fate, an inebriated figure collapsed into the seat beside me, teetering on the precipice of consciousness. His words slurred, attempts at conversation futile. The man vanished briefly, only to reappear in the same location, trapped in an inescapable loop of inebriation. Filled with a strange mix of sympathy and unease, I departed the theater, leaving behind the carnival of hedonistic frenzy.

    Stepping into the main corridor, a staircase beckoned, promising clandestine encounters and intimate connections. Led by alluring sirens, a select group of men ascended the steps, their destination veiled in anticipation. My curiosity piqued, I followed suit, ascending to a realm where desires found physical manifestation. Room after room stretched before me, a tableau of intimate escapades. And there, in a realm of pulsating music and dimly lit allure, stood a vision—an enchanting Asian beauty with cascading tresses. The temptation proved irresistible, and I succumbed to her rhythmic dance, our bodies intertwining in an intimate pas de deux. She shed her garments, revealing her ethereal form, enticing my senses to drink in her essence. And as temptation gnawed at the edges of restraint, I resisted the forbidden, allowing the symphony of scent and touch to consume me in its mesmerizing thrall.

    Having savored the intoxicating taste of pleasure, I descended from the heights, seeking Adam in the labyrinthine recesses of the strip club's expanse. Yet, an ominous voice, a prescient thought, echoed through my mind—Adam's transgressions had exiled him to the dark park, a realm of shadows and consequences. Determined to reclaim my comrade, I ventured forth, driving a path through the murky night until I located him and his cousin, shackled and confined. Persuading the employee of their shared connection, I secured their release, unearthing a glimmer of salvation in this world of unbridled temptation.

    Wandering through the expansive corridors of the main building, I marveled at the strip club's intricate design, each area offering its own brand of illicit amusement. The lobby, vast and towering, stood as a testament to the depths of desire and the heights of indulgence. Ascending yet another set of stairs, I arrived in a colossal square chamber, its periphery adorned with scales, each one poised to bear the weight of eager souls yearning for a specific temptress. Yet, as I scanned the collection of photographs, my gaze failed to alight upon the visage of the bewitching Asian enchantress who had enraptured my senses mere moments ago.

    Lost in contemplation, I found myself transfixed by a vertical flatscreen embedded within a building column. Its mesmerizing glow heralded the imminent arrival of renowned figures, including Tim Pool, a political commentator whose presence at this sensual carnival seemed incongruous. Observing his altered appearance, a burgeoning desire to meet the enigmatic figure welled within me. And so, I spoke his name into the air, and to my astonishment, his gaze met mine. A serendipitous encounter ensued, mingling admiration and excitement.

    Driven by curiosity's relentless pull, I ascended another flight of stairs, ushered into the private quarters reserved for the illustrious strippers. Amidst the laughter and camaraderie of a group of men, I surreptitiously explored my surroundings, drawn toward the faint sound of running water. My steps guided me to a shower, where a voluptuous dancer attended to her ablutions. Temptation flirted with exposure as I caught glimpses of her naked form, my eyes tracing contours bathed in rivulets of cascading liquid. Lured by my baser instincts, I ventured further, to the clothes repository—a retail-like haven of garments on hangers. Among the discarded attire, a pair of moist panties lay abandoned on the floor. Intrigued, I succumbed to a forbidden temptation, allowing their scent to fill my senses, a heady elixir of arousal.

    Returning from the depths of sensual exploration, I wandered through the lobby once more, my eyes fixated on a vertical flatscreen, its tales of illustrious guests captivating my attention. Jordan Peterson, a sage of wisdom, crossed my path, his profound insights escaping comprehension as swiftly as they were uttered. Briefly exchanging words, our encounter left me bewildered yet enriched. He ascended the stairs toward the scale room, and I charted my own path, an unexpected revelation coursing through my veins.

    The ultimate truth unfurled before me, revealing the proprietorship of this sprawling domain—my very own father held the reins of this titillating realm. A surge of exhilaration ignited my soul, promising liberties beyond those granted to ordinary patrons. A job awaited me, a ticket to revel in the clandestine machinations that orchestrated this captivating tapestry of flesh and desire. Donning the garments bestowed upon me, a cloak of privilege and access, I navigated the premises, anointed with a sense of distinction.

    In the twilight hours, atop the rooftop that crowned this lascivious kingdom, I approached my father, the architect of fantasies. Words, heavy with meaning, escaped my lips, carrying a longing for a different creative pursuit. "Can I be a writer?" I queried, basking in the glow of possibilities. "For the scripts that grace the screens of this establishment, they yearn for a masterful hand, a writer who can breathe life into their tales of seduction."

    And as the night wore on, the tantalizing dance of desire continued, within the confines of a strip club that transcended conventions, weaving a tapestry of wanton pleasures and secret longings—a sanctuary where the ordinary morphed into the extraordinary, beckoning all who dared to venture into the enigmatic realm of shadow and illumination.

I wake up

Red Door

I have left my job at Westrock to go back to school. I study banking and when I am done, I travel to my dad's work to offer my services. It's been a while since I've seen him last. He's gained weight and no longer is he donning stylish jeans but rather baggy farmers clothes. I am happy to see him. We hug and I tell him that I'm looking for a job. He gladly offers me one. I will be his recycling company's newest banker.

I explore my new workplace. I find myself on the rooftop opposite my work. The roof has a bridge that leads to the next building. I cross it. I enter a corridor that leads to one red door. There is a screen in which many words are flashing at random. At one point the screen spells "potato chip." It's revealed to my mind that this is a place where the rich and famous mingle. The screen is now telling me the exit the premises. I do so.

I wake up

White Wedding

My sister is getting married, and I am in the wedding. We stay at a hotel the night before the big day. My dad and his side of the family is staying at the same hotel but are not there yet. Something I do causes the electricity in the building to go out. My dad arrives at that time. The person at the front desk cannot give them a room because of the lack of electricity. My dad and the rest of the family must travel back to their homes. I can sense my dad's anger with me.

The next day, we travel to a picturesque town where the wedding is taking place. On a bridge over a river is a giant banner with my sister and her fiance's face on it. Half of the placard has fallen into the water. It's the half that shows my sister's face.

At the wedding hall, I am getting dressed in my suit. My mom's side of the family arrives. I see my recently deceased grandma with them. I am in shock, but I find out that they hired someone to play my grandma for the day. Once I talk to my fake grandma, I can tell that it's someone else. She sounds like her, but her look is not the same.

I wake up

Car Trouble

I'm at Liberty Christian High School. I have a feeling that I need to chop down a telephone pole in the parking lot. I take my ax and chop away. When I get halfway there, I look up and notice the electric wires. I worry that I've made a mistake. I run inside the building and pretend that I didn't do anything. I hope that the pole falls over during the weekend when no one is here.

I walk out to my vehicle. I control the car behind me with remote control. I try to drive both automobiles at the same time to the backlot. I accidentally crash the back vehicle into a fence. It's severely damaged. I become angry and start tearing up the soft top on my Jeep. After the rage ends, I become overwhelmed with the knowledge that the damage will cost $1500. My mom picks me up. I tell her everything. She consoles me.

I wake up

A Close Call

     A Jewish family lives in a small house. Local Muslims have found out where they live and have come to slaughter them. They lock the doors. The Muslims bang on the doors. The father of the house goes downstairs. The Muslims follow on the outside. They close all doors and windows. When the Muslims finally give up and leave, the family goes to the beach.

I wake up

The Predator Outside The Door

     I'm hanging out with Ian from the Youtube channel idubbbzTV. His bedroom has a large bed and a ball pit. We walk out to where my extended family is gathering. The family takes a stroll outside. Suddenly, a wolf shows up to the party. The family panics. All throughout the front yard is a maze of gates and kennels. I start throwing rocks toward the inside of the labyrinth. The wolf hears the noise and races toward it. My family runs for the house. I keep throwing rocks away from them to steer clear the wolf. We make it inside.

     The house is divided into two sections. Like a duplex. The wolf is outside the door. A young girl opens the door and runs laughing as she goes. I think she sees this as a game of tag or chase. The wolf is distracted by me standing at the door, calling for the girl to come back. She comes back, but as she opens the door to this side of the house, she accidentally opens the entrance to the other part of the house where my cat, Tandy, resides. I immediately run into the other house and see Tandy in the wolf's mouth. I start raging against the wolf, and he lets the cat free.

     I return to the gathering. I need to call my cousin, who lives in another state. Because of electricity issues, I have to use an old, WW3 walkie talkie. I try to call but have trouble contacting her.

I wake up

Something Is Wrong With Her Face

People are ecstatic. Oprah is coming to our building. I know beforehand that something is wrong with her. In fact, I am afraid to look at her face. Oprah arrives and walks up onto the stage in the auditorium. I am walking the halls around the auditorium, but I can see her through windows and openings. Something is wrong with her face. Every time I look, it becomes more and more contorted.

I walk away from the gathering and toward the end of the building, which is a castle. My sister, Morgan, appears. We need to fight an evil queen that resides up a set of concrete stairs. We enter the queen's throne room. I have been here once before, but Morgan has not. To me, the queens' appearance is frightening. She appears as a nine-foot, purple dragon with a tail. Standing next to her is a ghost of herself. To Morgan, the queen seems reasonable. I assume that every time one sets their eyes on the queen, she changes and deteriorates into something more sinister.

We don't end up fighting the dragon but instead talk to her. We leave the throne room and head toward the auditorium. We stop in a storage room where our friends are hiding. Everyone sits around a white table. We are the only ones who see something wrong with Oprah's face. 

I wake up

The Heat

I'm in Africa. Some family members and friends have traveled with me. I am told of a group of people who are desperate to come here.  They travel 100 miles on foot through lava canyons. I see the trail of magma and canyons that lead away. We start to move the path. A few miles on, the walls of the canyons block the sun, and Molton rock begins to appear more and more. We turn back. I wonder how these people travel through lava. How is it possible? We eventually make it through. The halfway point is a lovely building with chairs and vending machines. It's out of place. But it gives me hope.

We make it to the end. There is an indoor swimming pool full of lava. Lying across the pool are several inflatable logs. The people here play a game. One person sits at each end of the trunk. They try not to fall into the hot magma below.

We play the game.

I watch as my friend's dad sits at one side. He puts forth a valiant effort but eventually falls. He quickly pulls himself out, but it's too late. Lava covers his body, melting him alive. He reaches out for help. There is none. Later, we are all on the logs. I drop something into the fire and reach in to grab it. It isn't as hot as I thought. Many of us touch the firewater. We are not harmed.

I wake up

Swizzy

I'm in a hotel room. My family's here as well. Some of them are drunk. Our room is connected by a door to another hotel room where guests are staying. My sister, Kristen, has had too much to drink and is not making sense. She hears the strangers in the next room talking. She walks over to the connecting door and yells to them, "go tomorrow!" Her statement makes no sense. The rest of us laugh.

My sister, Morgan, has had a few drinks as well. She's buzzed. She tells me that the movie theater downstairs is playing a free movie for anyone who wants to see it. Morgan and I go downstairs to see the film. The theater is crowded, as is the case whenever something is free. The movie begins. The production company logo comes onto the screen. I notice the words JOY and PRAISE in the title. Morgan asks, "Is this a Christian movie?" Just then, a picture of Jesus appears on the screen. I turn around, and most of the people are leaving. Morgan and I go too, not because we don't love Jesus or Christianity but because our opinions of Christian movies are poor.

We walk down a sidewalk through city streets. Morgan is drunk by this point. She goes back to the hotel room, and I keep walking. I come across a store that sells electronics. I walk inside and look at the CDs and headphones. I want Bluetooth earbuds, but I check the price, and they are $4000.00.

I wake up

The Hitchhiker's Guide To Romance

I’m hitchhiking through Georgetown, Indiana, when a stranger on a motorcycle pulls over and offers me a ride. We rumble past familiar landmarks—McDonald’s, Circle K, Gas n’ Stuff—kicking up dust as the engine hums beneath us. Without warning, he slams on the brakes, jolting me forward. We skid to a stop beside a food cart manned by an unexpected figure: my high school history teacher. The scent of sizzling burgers, hot dogs, and sausages wafts through the air as he flips patties with the same authority he once wielded over lectures. Moments later, a second vendor rolls up, setting up a neighboring cart stocked with chilled drinks, their condensation glinting in the sunlight.

The motorcyclist doesn’t linger. He revs the engine and swings us back toward where we started, weaving through the streets until we reach a modest house. He drops me off without a word, and I step inside to find my tutor waiting. She’s already sprawled across her bed, a laptop propped up with a video queued—something about physics or chemistry, one of those sciences that blur together in my mind. I join her, sinking into the mattress as the lecture drones on. My attention drifts. The equations and diagrams fade into background noise, and I glance at her. Her eyes remain fixed on the screen, unwavering, absorbed.

Restless, I shift closer and let my hand brush her leg. My fingers trace a soft, tentative path along her skin. She stiffens slightly, then turns to meet my gaze. Eye contact has always been a struggle for me—a quiet battle of wills against my own instincts—but I fight to hold it now. Her stare is steady, searching. My pulse quickens as my brain screams to look away, but I don’t. She reaches for the remote, her voice cutting through the tension. “Yeah, we’re done with this.” With a click, the screen goes dark, and the room falls silent.

I wake up

Sliding Away

I'm part of an internship called The Honor Academy. Today we have traveled to a large field with a 32 story slide. The interns slide down the massive structure. I take my turn. The ride is thrilling and fast.

I'm standing out in the field with a group of friends when I notice a sliding intern flying from the ride. Their body imitates a ragdoll as it falls through the air and crashes hard into the ground. Before our eyes, bodies of interns fly through the air and land in different parts of the field. I run to the nearby woods and hide behind trees avoiding the out of control bodies.

When the falling stops, we the living run to the opposite corner of the field where there is a door. The door lets us out.

I wake up

Red Fog

I'm inside a mysterious mansion with a few other people. We begin walking at one point and move to another. The attic? The basement? There is no way to be sure. We begin to roam. No matter how many rooms, hallways, or doorways we travel through, we never find an exit.

A strangeness follows us. I'm not sure if we see it. It could be a person. Or an illusion. Maybe a haunting. Our pace quickens to an urgent jog. New rooms. Hallways. Doorways. We never end up anyplace with a conclusion. As long as we walk, the mansion shows us more. Like a lizard growing a new tail, the estate grows a new room. Hallway. Doorway.

I come to an indoor balcony. I look down hoping to find an answer. I cannot see the ground through the red fog. We never find our way out. As far as anyone knows, we are still there.

I wake up

Runaways

We kids are runaways in the city. An evil maniac (like Immortan Joe from Mad Max Fury Road) has taken many kids as his slaves. He roams the streets along with his baddies, looking for the next child to use and abuse. We evade capture several times over. We steal a truck. I drive while the others hop in the back. We drive around looking for a place to hide, and even more critical, somewhere to call our home.

We come across a warehouse. It's several stories tall. We park the truck and climb the stairs to one of the upper floors where we find a giant pile of clothes. I find Snoopy and Star Trek t-shirts. One of the other kids asks to trade one of his shirts for my Star Trek one. I do. We hear a noise coming from a nearby stairway.

I wake up

The Scent Of Horror

A group of my fellow high school students is spending a few days at a retreat in the hills. There is a mine track rollercoaster that tours guests through the woodland ridges. My brother-in-law built the coaster and tells me it's dangerous. A few of us pile in a cart and start up the giant hill. When we get to the top, there is another small hill before the significant drop. Joseph, the teenager, sitting next to me, leans back exaggeratedly far. He doesn't see the next hill coming. When the cart takes the mound, Joseph's head hits the track, and he begins to fall out. I try to pull him back inside, but it's too late. Joseph lies on the route with a severe head injury. The cart malfunctions and starts rolling backward. Joseph is run over. He is dead. While in shock, I try to call Chad to inform him of the situation. I tell him to stop the mine carts on the track. My frantic fingers cannot find his number in my phone. The next cart rolls along and runs over Joseph's body. I see Chad standing on a boulder. I inform him of our situation. The roller coaster comes to a standstill. We get off of the ride.

"This ride is dangerous!" I yell to Chad. Heated, he yells, "I told you it was dangerous!"

Standing on the ground, I can see paramedics carrying joseph's body down on a gurney. I can't look. I turn and walk away. As dusk approaches, most of the guests have left the retreat. I call my mom and ask her to pick me up. I'm standing next to a cabin where the female guests stayed. A car pulls up. I assume a guest is picking up their belongings, so I walk away. As the sky is dark and the retreat is still, my mom shows up. Chad tells her what happened. While the scent of horror is still in the air, we drive home.

I wake up

Let Me Be

Once again, I witness the towers fall. Dream ends.

I wake up