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    Visions in the Dark

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    My spelling and grammar are terrible. Expect mistakes.
    Thank you for reading!

    1. Car crash and the mansion.

      by , 12-02-2007 at 06:00 AM (Visions in the Dark)
      I cannot remember the beginning of this dream but there was quite a bit about wandering around outside in a semi-arid setting. I was travelling with three women I do not know in what looked like a camp ground. Despite the dry arid atmosphere, there were many thick, dark green coniferous trees about - enough almost to classify the area as a forest in my opinion. I do not recall much detail about the appearance of the three women except the two were slightly younger than I (and one was wearing a pink, wool sweater) and the oldest woman was about middle aged and had short dark brown hair. The four of us walked for a while, seemingly lost in the desert forest the three women conversed with each other, but I lagged behind and was content to just enjoy the setting, though as we walked a growing apprehension developed in my mind and I found myself wanting to be in the company of my parents because I suddenly felt very vunerable and child-like.

      I had not noticed that she had gone, but the oldest woman of the group suddenly turned a corner, driving a red four door car that looked like a Glendale from the Grand Theft Auto videogame series. I never got her actual name in the dream, but from this point on I refer to the oldest woman of the group as Glenda. I never learn the names of the other two women. Glenda tells us to get in and I make myself confortable in the rear rightside passenger seat. The young woman in the pink, hand-knit sweater sits in the left side and I notice at this point that she has shoulder length blond hair. I think that she looks like Cagalli Yula Athha from the Gundam Seed anime series.

      The three women continue to talk amongst themselves but I roll down my window and am content to just stare outside, wondering where my parents are. Glenda drives along a lone dirt road out of the desert forest, heading east, and we travel for a long time with nothing in sight. Soon however there is a wooden ramp a head of us and though it appears that we could drive around it, Glenda is determined to jump the ramp. She floors the accelerator and we speed towards the jump, and I feel that this is a very bad idea. I cling to the Cagalli look-alike and she does the same to me. Everyone in the car is afraid of the worst happening and I cannot talk Glenda out of stopping the car or just driving around the ramp. The red four-door car is heavy and though it hits the wooden ramp at a fair speed and level angle, the vehicle inexplicably flips in mid air, crashes on the roof and slides upside down for a short distance.

      The four of us are able to crawl out of the wreck, and though we are dazed, no one is seriously injured. Glenda is quick to rally the other two girls into following her again by saying something like "the Arizona border isn't far now," or something, but I am not interested in joining them. While they continue along the dirt road heading east, I notice something in the southernly direction that looks like a group of small buildings or tents. It is hazy because of the heat and I cannot tell if what I am looking at is real or an optical illusion, but I start walking in that direction anyway. It is very hot and I take off my overshirt and wrap it around my head as I walk.

      As I get closer to my destination I can see that it is some sort of outdoor event taking place infront of a large gothic styled building which I think at first much be a medieval church or something. There are stone pillars through the square, as well as consession stands and booths selling various consumer goods. There are many people casually browsing the things for sale or sitting on the many marble benchs scattered about. I am aching from the car crash and walk to the center of the bustle so see if I can find anyone I know. I look over my right shoulder and through the throng of people and booths I can see a Texaco gas station and feel drawn towards it. As I try to make my way there, my dad walks by infront of me and heads over to a coffee stand nearby. He did not notice me as he walked by and does not respond when I call out to him. I am sore and feeling needy and want sympathy because I was in an accident, but my dad completely ignores me as if I am not even there. He orders to hot drinks and walks toward a picnic table in the far end of the square, where my mom is sitting. I unwrap the overshirt from my head and follow my dad over to the table and try to get my parents attention, but again they do not respond. My anxiety increases and I desperately try yelling at them again they do not respond. What adds to my frustration is that I do not know if they cannot actually hear me, or if they are willfully ignoring my pleas for attention.

      I briefly become lucid as I acknowledge that this is how it feels my parents treat me in real life, but I do not gain control of the dream because I feel rejected and psychologically exhausted.

      Though I know they will still ignore me if I return to their company, I still desperately crave attention and affection from my parents - but it hurts too much to feel non-existant, so I head over to the large gothic style building and see if I can find a pillar or wall to hide behind. As I get closer to the building I notice that one of the huge wooden doors is slightly ajar. I make sure no one is looking and slip through the opening. While it looks like a midieval church on the outside, the interior looks much more like an elaborate palace. Lush carpets line the expansive halls; gold and jewels are woven into every decoration and peice of art; massive crystal chandeliers hang from the ceilings. I stand in awe for a moment, drinking in the magnificent excess of extravagance, until I hear footfalls coming from an adjacent room or hall near the entrance. Because the sound seems to be coming from behind me, I run away from the front doors and deeper into the mansion.

      There seems to be some sort of party going on as in each room I pass I can hear people laughing and having fun, though the doors are closed and I cannot see anyone. I turn down one hall and almost trip over a stack of gifts wrapped in colourful papers and ribbons. Down another hall I find a long legless table with row upon row of crystaline bowls filled with either chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Because the hall is not air-conditioned, most of the ice cream is melting, and because the table has no legs and is effectively sitting on the floor, much of the melting ice cream is soaking into the lush red carpet. I walk through a set of doors beyond the legless table and find myself in watch appears to be a dinning hall. The place is set up as if to recieve and dine many guests, but I do not see anyone around. I can hear commotion from an adjacent room and hear a woman say something about "having the place ready for the afternoon guests." I quickly run through the room to a narrow hall on the other side. As I make my deeper into the mansion, a feeling of apprehension develops inside of me and I feel as if I am not suppost to be there.

      I enter into a hall with a stairs to the left, a large open kitchen infront of me and a set of double doors to my right. There are cooks in white aprons, waiters in red jackets, and maids in black dresses all rushing around trying to get their jobs done. People do look in my direction, but no one stops what they are doing to say anything about the interloper. I stand in the middle of the hall and notice someone coming down the stairs in the corner of my left eye. A waiter with short black hair is slowing making his way down the stairs and he is holding something I cannot see in his left hand. He makes a funny face and then smiles at me, clearly trying to make me laugh. I do laugh, but try to stifle it with my hand and it is then that I notice that I am wearing a red waiter jacket like the man on the stairs. I am still afraid that I am going to get in trouble because I am not suppost to be there, but being near the man on the stairs seems to make me feel a bit calmer for some reason. Another waiter appears from behind me, carrying a silver tray full of silver dishes, walks past us and mutters to the waiter on the stairs to "leave the new girl alone," or something. The man on the stairs just gives him annoyed look. An aging woman with a scowl for a facial expression, wearing a long black Victorian-era dress and her gray hair up in a bun, appears in the kitchen entrance way and I only get to make brief eye-contact with her when the dream ends.


      I think I can sum this dream up quite easy: anxiety about relations with my parents and anger about the emotional neglect I experienced in childhood.