side notes

A first person dream, I am running, frantic, up an angular spiral staircase. When I reach a landing I run through an open door, into a bedroom painted black, with posters plastered onto the shiny black walls. To my immediate right is a small brown end-table, it is cluttered. Beside it is an unmade bed with a young man sitting on the edge.
I rush at him and pant "I need to get out of here! I need to escape!". He complies and gets up immediately, taking hold of my left wrist. He turns it over to expose my inner arm and I try to twist away, consciously attempting to hide old scars of self harm. The young man holds fast, however, and grabs a sharp pocket-knife off his cluttered end-table.
He holds my arm out, exposing my inner arm and makes a large, diagonal and mostly vertical, cut into my wrist. I brace myself for blood and pain but neither ever comes. For a moment I think that I can see fat and tissue inside the cut, before I realize that it is expanding and opening wide, turning inside out. In a flash of light everything seems to flip inside out, and then get sucked inwards towards my cut, even my own point of view/field of vision. Then I wake up.

Note*
This dream didn't come off as terribly nightmarish or awful to me. I felt no ill intent from the young man. I consciously try to keep my scars out of sight and mind of anyone that isn't myself. They don't particularly haunt me or serve as a daunting reminder of my past. They're simply there, and if anything have always represented a comfortable way out.