A Pierrot's Muse

Wednesday 30th March 2011
I went into a book shop and browsed for something that I might like. After a couple of minutes of searching, a book on one of the shelves eventually caught my eye.

I picked up the book from the shelf and inspected the cover; I can't remember what the subject of the book was, but I vaguely remember the cover having the colour red on it. Deciding to flip through the book, I leafed through the pages to find that they had been covered with layers of yellow tape. There were many strips that covered the whole page --none of the original text or images could be seen.

Going back to the inside cover of the book, I decided to peel it off so I could see what was underneath. Picking at the corner, I eventually got a good hold of the tape and pulled it off. It came off rather easily; and while sticky residue still remained, the ink underneath was left mostly unscathed. There was a pattern of some sort on that page; although I can't remember it clearly.

I decided to buy the book and attempt to take off the yellow tape from all of the other pages when I got home.

Friday 25th March 2011
Myself and many others were trapped in a huge, dark, cold room. That room was surrounded by trees which loomed over the surrounding area, making it look barren and dark. There were so many of these trees that we were effectively trapped inside; so this meant that we had to make our escape by taking down one of the trees.

However, there was something different about these trees: they were explosive. All except one of them, it seemed. And to our dismay, we didn't know which one to pick. The police warned us that if we cut into the wrong tree with an axe or a saw, it would cause a nuclear explosion that would surely kill us all. (The police donned an 1950s type uniform.) Despite this, the group of policemen went out to see if they could find the right tree and cut it down.

In the mean time, we all knelt down in the ground and held hands with one another, tears streaming down our cheeks. Grim cries of "I'm going to die!" and "I don't want to die" resounding throughout the room that we thought would surely be our grave site.

Suddenly, a policeman jumped into the room from what appeared to be a huge hole in the wall, telling us that they'd managed to cut down the right tree. We walked outside, and saw an opening where the tree had once been. Simultaneously, a smile graced each and every one of our faces and we left with our lives.

Thursday 10th March 2011
I struggled to open my eyes; all I could manage was to open my left eye slightly. I slowly raised my hand to verify I was dreaming with a reality check. My hand was see-through. So it was safe to say I was definitely dreaming. I tried to open my other eye, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't. I then woke up.

[It's so frustrating! I can never open my eyes when I go into a lucid.]

Sunday 6th March 2011
I walked in to my mum's house only to find her sifting through a curtain of coats on the wall hooks. I asked her where she was going, but I can't quite remember where she said. But for some reason, I had the feeling that she wasn't coming back.

After she left, I decided to inspect the house. It was very unkempt. Empty bottles and wrappers littered the floor. On the arm of a chair I saw a little bulldog puppy resting there; it had an air of sadness around it.

I then took my investigation upstairs. What I found was quite upsetting. There were empty packets of dog food on the ground --as well as the very empty food bowls. I then saw two puppies that were so starving that they lay on their sides in exhaustion. Their bones protruded from their skin and fur. They obviously hadn't been fed for a long time.

I rummaged through the rubbish on the floor and found an unopened packet of puppy food. Rushing downstairs, I remembered that I should also feed the bulldog puppy, which was still perched on the arm of the chair in the livingroom. Everything was so still and quiet, it was eerie.

A thought then occurred to me that I should feed Sam [My step-dad's Labrador--who is actually alive and well!] But then I remembered that he was killed by my step-dad. Meanwhile, I had reached the kitchen and looked in the cupboards for a third bowl for the bulldog puppy. The room was so dilapidated; the cupboard doors detached from their hinges; washing left undone; rubbish bags still needing to be taken out.

I grabbed the bowl and headed back into the livingroom. [This is when I was woken up by my alarm.]