The Infinite Domain

Non-Lucid|Lucid|Notes
Recently I've been having a lot of dramatic dreams lately, involving the police and my legal status... I'm slightly worried about my state of mind...

I am in my neighbor's backyard at dusk. My hands are covered in blood. I'm hastily putting on an interesting contraption, similar to a backpack, but my hands keep slipping. I wipe them on my ripped jeans and continue strapping this abnormal invention onto my back.

I finish, just as the police pull up to the front of the house, and push off the ground.

This must've been a pretty shitty jet pack, as it lifted me more like a hot air balloon than something powered by gasoline. I pass this off as a means of stealth purposes and elevate, slowly, into the night sky. I hear gunshots below me and feel an odd pressure in my left thigh. I've been shot! Usually the replacement of pain for pressure is a prenominal dream sign, but I pass it off as a regular occurrence and keep flying.


Hours later, I begin to descent into a vaguely familiar town. I am kindly greeted by Anne Hathaway dressed as Catwoman, who proceeded to shoot me in the face with a taser and drag me off to prison.

Non-Lucid|Lucid|Notes
Falsely Convicted
I'm in a courtroom, standing up at the defendant's table. Every accusation I hear is direct evidence of the murder I supposedly committed. The only problem? I'm innocent.

I'm dragged off by an officer in a khaki uniform and walked down a hallway, where the media is lined up along the walls. My mother shoves past a group of camera-holding spectators, just long enough to ask me a brief, yet impending question:
"Did you do it?"
I shake my head, no.

As I am carefully chained into the back an empty black van which, undoubtedly, should be taking me to a state penitentiary, I begin to cry. My life is over at 17. Damn, I didn't even get to go to college yet.

A thought crosses my mind...

I'm 17! I can't go to prison yet! This must be a..

The dream warps and I awake with a peculiar sense of satisfaction