One Life to Another

Many lives, Many stories

 

I’m at my babysitter’s house from elementary school days. An explosion was heard down the street and they are getting closer. We jump from the bedroom window onto the roof of the garage where a red wagon sat. Running for my life with my sister and the children of my babysitter, we flee from the monsters in a red wagon, riding the slope of the garage roof to pick up speed, trying to control the red wagon in a world of distorted streets. Mystical creatures chase us, spitting fire, water, rocks and air at us. I run off track and next thing I know I’m falling through the sky. As this happens all the nerves in my body are on alert and a strong tingling sensation travels down my body, but I do not awaken.

 

I close my eyes and they open to a scene visible in sepia. I was in a silent movie as an old white woman living all alone in an old mansion. She has colonial style clothing that seemed to be too much on a hot day like this. I see things from her perspective as she waters the flowers in her garden and drinks tea on her patio. Suddenly clouds move in and it’s raining. She sits in her rocking chair by the fireplace knitting a scarf. She looks out the window to see her reflection in the rain that gracefully turns to snow. The camera pans away as the scene turns to black and white and then fades to darkness. My heart rate slows down to a gentle pulse and my breathing is so light that my chest and stomach barely moved.

 

Small lit red candles are everywhere, a skull is used as a holder and melted wax flows out of the eye sockets. In the center of the yard is a man on his hands and knees directly staring at me. He’s perched on top of a bed covered in silky red sheets and pink rose petals. I kept my eyes on him and he kept his eyes on me. The scene began to rotate and I couldn’t tell if I was circling him or he was circling me, I kept seeing the same picture from the same angle. He stands up wearing nothing but that silk sheet around his waist. He jumps at me with his devilish sharp teeth showing, red eyes focused on my chest. My heart rate increases, my finger twitch signaling an unwanted event was nearing.

 

I try to run but the demon approaches faster than I expect. I stop and turn around to face him but then the demon’s skin turns blue and eyes yellow. The predator expression changes to that of a sorrowful angel of death. He hugs me and I let him. Black feathers from his angel wings circle around my body; riding a strange wind that blows they fall silently to the ground covered in blue rose petals. I lift my head from his chest to see that we are standing on water in the middle of a lake. Around us is a forest made from diamonds illuminated by a moon in the form of a yin-yang symbol. A tiger and a dragon chase each other on the moon; I can feel my legs becoming restless and my eyes racing to keep up with them.

 

The peaceful was driven away with a scene of war. I lead a group of men through the desert dunes, sandstorms and trench warfare. Being the only woman, I cooked for the men- whatever two other men and I could find in this dry land. One of these men was like a father figure; he didn’t let any of the men try anything. The other man was like a brother to me who always had my back. But soon this brother was killed by a land mine. This father and I made it out of the war alive and we stayed together in a small log cabin. Soon, I find myself pregnant with his child, a child that he didn’t want. I lie on the floor in a pool of blood. Pain is felt from my pelvis area and my stomach is in knots. This time I awaken.

 

I went from deep sleep to fully awake and in an instance I sit up in my bed, checking to see if Mother Nature is paying me a visit but I was safe this time. I checked to see what time it was and it was four in the morning. I got up, drank some water out of the bathroom faucet and used the bathroom so I won’t be interrupted from my sleep again until morning. I heard commotion downstairs and know it’s my mother; she too usually wakes up in the middle of the night and usually at the same time as I. I climbed back into my bed and slept under my covers. I kind of fell back asleep but not fully. Thoughts raced through my head and my own words became my dream and as my alarm woke me up I was still talking.

Last night I had a dream, but I don’t know what it was about or what it was trying to tell me. Some nights I remember my dreams vividly and others vanish as I wake. Some dreams I control and still find myself thinking about them as I wake, still carrying on a conversation I was having in my dream that has nothing to do with my real life situation. Some nights I fall asleep and wake up at the same time. It feels as though I had leaped through time and barely slept, yet I had all the energy in the world. One night I had many dreams that flowed into one another but were distinct. The dream was a collection of stories, a collection of memories or a collection of imagined worlds…a collection of all three perhaps.

 

The next day, I went to school. In AP Psychology my teacher had a lesson plan on dreams. He said that dream can be memories that we tweak, dreams can be premonitions, dreams can symbolize what’s going on in your life in weird ways, dreams can be secrets we keep deep inside us that manifest as we sleep, and dreams can be memories of a past life or the life we really want. He said dreams can be fluid or choppy, some you remember and become nightmares and some you forget and become night terror, some dreams can be continuations of previous ones from another night and some nights we have many different ones if we wake and fall back asleep periodically that night. And finally he said that even when you say you didn’t dream, you did.

 

So, I raised my hand and told him about my night of strange dreams. What could they mean, especially the one about the old lady; I was a black high school student dreaming about an old white lady from the 19^th century. He didn’t know what to say about that one. He was just as baffled as I. I went on to propose an idea; what if the dreams we don’t remember having- have a purpose. When we sleep, maybe we wake in another reincarnation of ourselves or a parallel world. Think about it, babies sleep most if the day and when they are asleep an adult is awake. When we sleep we jump from body to body and wake to live out those days and in our dreams is where the memories from each life collide in its own fantastical, magical, mystical way.

 

Or maybe I just watch too many cartoons and play too many video games.

Reviews

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

I love the descriptions and excitement associated with the various dreams. the only way you could possibly make this even cooler would be to surprise the reader at the end rather than giving away that these are dreams in the beginning. Just a suggestion

[Jasmine S. Edwards]

Great suggestion

[Dream°]

I love it. I tend to get lost in my own fantasies sometimes too.

[Jasmine S. Edwards]

Yeah I'm a daydreamer with a wild imagination lol thanks for the review :)