Nightmares

My dreams and my nightmares are incredibly vivid.

Usually, I wake up in a sweat or breathing heavily no matter what the dream was about.

This time was a little different. Lately, My dreams have been more fear-based instead of weird or peculiar. The nightmare began with me in a room with a modeling agent and a few models surrounding me. The agent was Jane Lynch and the model's faces were blurred. I am not sure why I was there, but all of the women were speaking with each other, no one directing conversation towards me. The models vanished, leaving only Jane and I standing face to face. She told me I would be leaving next, that the show we were all supposed to attend was shortened. She said she was the only one who could perform for this specific client. She gestured me to the bathroom to gather my belongings. I turned back to look at her before entering the bathroom and she held an art piece of mine in her hands. My confusion only grew. The art piece was something of a painted, over-sized decorative plastic mask that I knew was mine, but didn't recall ever making. I took the mask from her hands and flipped it over so I could use it as a vessel to hold my things. I grabbed my razor, a few ponytail holders, and a few bottles. I turned back to her and she had changed into a beautiful floor-length dress with hardware dangling from the hips and straps. "Why did you change?" I asked. "Well this is what the client sent one of the girls to wear, but I'm taking the lead, so they asked I wear it to the event," she said with hesitation. "I'm sorry you have to go, but you're a hell of a young woman," she said with a motherly kind of smile. I sighed, thanked her, and headed on my way. Here is where the darkness starts to creep in. I ended up at this big, beautiful, modern house with 4 or 5 bedrooms and a few bathrooms. I took a look around and I saw Tom Felton (Malfoy from Harry Potter.) I introduced myself and he flashed the most swoon-able smile I could imagine. I continued to look around and peeked in the bedrooms with their doors already opened. There was a boy who looked to be in his early twenties sleeping in a hammock. The next open room had another boy in his early twenties who caught my gaze and immediately shot up to meet my acquaintance. I can't quite remember what he said, but I know I felt offended and somewhat violated by whatever words came out of his mouth. I remember walking away disgusted and he followed me back to the living room. There were more guys there, including Tom and a few girls. They looked like they all knew each other. I consider myself to be a shy person and typically do not speak unless spoken to when it comes to people I've not met before. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but the rude boy came up behind me and tried hitting on me whilst whispering in my ear. He just had this skeezy energy that I was not putting up with, so I whipped around and told him he was being a jackass. I said a few crude words describing all of his actions thus far and he didn't take it well. I turned my back to him because I was finished with my rant and he walked back to his room. I had gained the attention of the room by this point and all eyes were directly on me. Tom started clapping, then the room followed. I half-smiled and I stated that I couldn't take anyone treating me like that. The eyes all widened as I heard footsteps grow louder and louder behind me. I immediately felt my heart in my stomach and couldn't bear to turn around. The most distinct sound of a switchblade rang in my ears in slow motion. The next thing I felt was a cold, slow, scraping pain. He had lifted my shirt just high enough to slash my lower back with a few shallow cuts. It felt like the knife hadn't been sharpened, either. I have never been able to feel pain in my dreams before last night. The boy dropped the knife and went to sit with the rest of the group, the room still as silent as could be. I ran to the nearest bathroom and locked the door behind me. I hadn't shown my pain to anyone, nor said a word the whole time it was happening. When I looked in the mirror to assess the damage, tears fell fast. He had cut right above a tattoo on my hip and I couldn't believe anyone would ever do this to another person. I insulted him for harassing me and his reaction was to cut me? I couldn't understand why. I blotted the blood and put my shirt back down. I went back into the room and picked up the knife. I walked towards where the boy was sitting and tried my luck again. I told him how awful of a person he was and I couldn't bare to live with someone who was the spawn of Satan. I grazed his forearm with the knife, dropped it on his lap, and walked to Tom's room to get my things (apparently they appeared there when I arrived?) I tried opening the first door to Tom's room, but it was locked, so I went to the second door and collapsed. I fell to the floor because I felt a pulsing pain in one of the spots the boy had cut me. The boy saw i was reaching for the door knob and ran up to me. "Look I get you're pissed at me but I'm getting my stuff and leaving, so you can just leave me the hell alone," I said with a whimper in my voice from the pain. He stopped a few feet away from me and said, "You may not want to go in there, he's with the hottest girl here and they're not just hugging and kissing..." "I really don't give a fuck, I just want to get out of here," I said as I finally opened the door. I saw what I pictured and she was on top of him, thankfully not fully naked. "I'm sorry I just really need to get my stuff, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll be just a second," I said trying not to look at them. Tom seemed to be pretty embarrassed, but he assured me it was no problem. I grabbed my things and turned around to see the boy with the knife about 6 inches from my face. Suddenly, my body felt like it was completely giving out. I looked down to see a blade and gushing blood at my waist. I couldn't feel my legs and before I collapsed, I looked into his eyes. The black dead eyes on his pale, emotionless face.

Then, my alarm went off.

I know this isn't a scary nightmare or even a scary story, but the feeling I had when I woke up was unlike any other. I felt drained and like I had been sleeping for 3 days. I couldn't shake what I saw in my own mind. I feel my dreams with an intensity I know a lot of people will never understand. This one isn't sitting right with me.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading. I appreciate at least 1 other person seeing my darkness with me.