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22 January 2010 @ 10:20 am
Another Vivid Dream  
I don't know why I'm suddenly having dreams that I remember when I wake, but I am. Whereas the last one was sad but warm and comforting, last night's was hot and cold and terrifying and painful and confusing.

It started out rather nicely. My sister Rachel, my cousin Aimie, and I were in what seemed to be my big bedroom from "the old house" (the big split-level we lived in for the first seven years of our lives in Missouri). It was bright, sunny, and we girls were sitting sprawled on the floor, going through bags and boxes and such, finding old drawings, toys, etc. from my youth. It was light, innocent fun, making jokes and laughing at my expense (why did I still own so many things from my childhood?).

Then it abruptly changed. It was suddenly night. Aimie was gone, and instead my sister's fiancé, Luke, was there. The house/bedroom was no longer the split-level, but a one-story ranch. The setting/geography was the same; across the street were houses. Behind those houses, a thick line of trees. Behind that line of trees, the highway.

I think we were watching television. We were just hanging, comfy in our pajamas, oblivious to what was about to happen.

It began with me looking out the window. I'd heard Luke give a low whistle, the kind a person performs when watching something terrible or awe-inspiring, and I went to investigate. He was close behind. As we all looked out the window into the dark night (there didn't seem to be any street lamps for some reason), a big pillar of sparking fire exploded into the air from behind the leafless trees, looking to originate from the highway. So, naturally, we assumed there had been a really, really bad wreck.

But the pillars of fire (not really the size or shape of mushroom clouds, but still just as terrifying to gaze upon) kept exploding. Far as I can remember, there was only silence as we looked on. It wasn't a chain of explosions; it was like one explosion that pulsed. After a few shocked moments, we realized that with each expulsive pulse of fire, it was getting closer!!!

Soon, the woods behind the houses were on fire. Ash rained down so thickly, it looked like it was snowing. With the next pulse, the houses across the street were blasting apart from horizontal waves of fire and hot air. This was when we flew to the floor, seeking cover, because with the very next pulse, the blasting fire was here. It BLASTED through the windows. I could feel the heat searing through my clothes and into my skin.

And then it went dark.

When I "woke", it was still dark, but the night was burning. The three of us found each other, all of our clothes tattered and burnt, barely covering us. Suddenly a cold breeze swept through and I could feel the chill on my scorched body.

We three went to the back of the house, which seemed okay and found my mom and stepdad. We all grabbed our dog Sequoyah and our cat Molly and went into the basement. I'm a bit fuzzy now on whatever was next, though I recall fumbling through piles of clothes so we could all dress. I think I remember us trying to tune through the stations on a little TV, frustrated that it seemed none of the local news stations had any clue what had just happened.

The next thing I remember clearly is waking the next morning. Mom and Rick (stepdad) were already upstairs. When I opened the door at the top of the basement stairs, I was greeted with an undamaged hallway. I found Mom and Rick in their bedroom, at the back of the house. They were taking inventory.

"So, everything's okay?" I asked.

They said the house seemed to be okay but-- I didn't hear them as I rushed to the front of the house. The living room was there, but the wall to my right was gone and where my bedroom should have been, there was just debris. I ran to the front door, threw it open, and...

The house was no longer on its foundation.* In fact, it was sitting in the middle of a small residential intersection, the street names of which were unfamiliar. The neighborhood where the house had somehow "landed" or been "scooted" into by the blast was undamaged. (*only in dreams can one walk out of one's basement into their house and yet it be off its foundation in an entirely different neighborhood)

The dream is either fuzzy now in my memories or it just flowed around... Anyhow, we ended up in the city (apparently, again, it was my "dream" city, though this time it had no name associated with it). We were in a clean, but damaged warehouse district. Tall brick buildings, very close together, stood above, blocking a good deal of sunlight, bathing us in cool shadows. A few were flattened. My dream knowledge told me we were heading to some kind of emergency shelter.

Then, more fuzziness/flowing, and it was night. I was fully clothed, not a single scratch on me, as though I had not just survived a blast not unlike a nuclear explosion. I was now with, of all people, the Fifth Doctor (from Doctor Who). We were apparently investigating the cause of the explosions (it had happened in several cities across the US).

We found a businessman, small, squirrely, kind of looking like a squat Colonel Sanders. We managed to extract the basic information out of him. Apparently he had some kind of deal with the US government. I can't remember what it was now, but whatever it was, it was a business deal. He did the bombing in exchange for money from the government. Can't remember the reasoning behind such a deal, and there was no indication as to which "regime" was currently in charge of the US.

Anyway, the Doctor somehow found a way to send the businessman back in time to fix this event (thus violating the Laws of Time, but apparently this time it was allowed).

It was now morning. Suddenly, buildings began to put themselves back together. Brick buildings started to piece together, bricks flying in the air (like watching a collapse in rewind). With all the debris flying around, everyone ran for cover. A big group of people went into an empty warehouse, scrambling into its basement. The Doctor and I were last, but as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I looked back to find him at the top, preparing to close the door. I yelled out for him, but he ignored me and the door slammed shut, and we were plunged into darkness.

And thus I awoke and wrote this all down.

Moral of the story: No idea, but if I want to keep the Doctor from invading my otherwise non-fandomy dreams, I really need to stop reading crack!fic so late at night, right before bed. LOL

Later, I'll post a recounting of a dream I had a couple weeks ago. I sadly didn't write it down upon waking that morning, so it might not be as detailed, but I really do remember a good deal of it, surprisingly. I think people will find it interesting, to say the least.