Sorry guys about waiting so long to put up another dream blog. I'm not sure why but the past few months I just haven't had near the dream recall as a I normally do. Finally, last night, I had one that was wonderfully vivid and horribly cartoon-ish. Oh well, at least it wasn't Harry Potter themed. This theme was more ... Green.
I'm on an island that is a ferry's distance from shore. I feel like the island is Put-in-Bay, but it's more of a city-scape. So I guess, take Put-in-Bay, and marry it to Manhattan. The baby of that marriage is the setting of this dream,
Correction. Nightmare. In hindsight I have no idea why this dream frightened me as much as it did, since it's rather...comical. But nonetheless I still woke up in a cold sweat. Not kidding.
About half a mile from the ferry dock is a small neighborhood. It's an older neighborhood since the bricks on the house fronts are beginning to either crack with age or be blanketed with Morning Glory plants. The trees separate the sidewalk from the brick road and it's very...homey here. None of the houses look a like (unlike in younger neighborhoods these days were all the houses are very similar to its neighbor) and on the corner of one of the roads winding through this neighborhood is a gray house.
This house had gray siding and a rounded corner on one side with a pointed, navy roof and several windows. Each window, despite whether on the first or second floor, had navy blue shutters and a terracotta flower trough at its sill. The lawn was groomed and the small yet vibrant pink flowers were happily watered.
I had walked down a little road with little shops (similar to downtown Kent or Westerville) before coming to the neighborhood from the pier. When I saw this gray little house, I smiled. One of my friends lived here and I was visiting her on holiday.
Instead of walking to the front door and ringing the door bell, I walked to the side of the house and knocked on a paint-chipped screen door hidden behind some landscaping.
"Come in!" I heard the girl yell from inside. Now, I have no idea who this girl is. I don't know her from real life. She didn't even have a name. But in this dream she was a long time friend who I trusted and loved.
Let's call her Gert. Yup, that's real friendship-y love.
Anywho, inside, Gert welcomes me with a hug and tells me to just hold on a second before we leave (she has lost the matching shoe to the one she was already wearing and needed to find it).
"Do we have somewhere we need to get to? I just got in." I told her.
"What do you mean?" Gert said. She had long beautiful ( I mean shampoo commercial quality) hair that just fell perfectly around her face. I don't remember what her face looked like. I remember her hair style and that she was only about an inch taller than me. Shorties Unite!
"I mean could I at least settle in before we go anywhere?"
"Oh," she looked at me blankly, blinked and said, "just throw your bag anywhere. There you're settled already."
Gert had found her missing shoe, a black ballet flat made of all different shapes of black material, and we left the gray little house. Gert wanted to show me the little town I had already walked through. We walked up to the first little shop on the corner of the main road. It was a bakery. They were already closed for the day even though it was only about three in the afternoon. Next to that was dance studio. On the door to the studio were tiny white letters under address "Police Offices in Back." Okee Doke. I didn't know what that meant...nor did I care.
Further down the row were more little antique shops and flower shops, bicycle mechanics etc. Every single store on that island was ma and pa owned. Not a single chain. Finally at the very end of the line was the pier with the one dock on it. PESO A FISH FERRIES read the sign in big green neon letters. Okay... I guess this ma and pa are Mexican, even though it was an old white guy with a beard in charge (Think Gandolf in fishermen garb).
After showing me the sights and grabbing me a bite to eat, Gert and I went back to the house. I walked in and sat out the couch and turned on the TV.
"SHUT THAT OFF!! I'M TRYING TO FOCUS!!" A deep raspy man's voice yelled from upstairs.
"NO! IT'S NOT EVEN ON LOUD!" Gert yelled back.
"Huh?" I whispered.
"Oh that's just my roommate. He's a real ass. Stan is just crotchety. I ignore him and his rants most of the time." Gert tells me. Turns out, Stan was also Gert's landlord.
We sit and watch TV. After a while I get up and start walking around (any one who knows me knows I can't sit still for more than an hour and half at a time). I walk up and open a door that leads off the room. The moment I start it opened Gert yells "DON"T OPEN THAT!" and I jerk the door back closed. Gert continues, "That's Stan's area. I'm not allowed to even touch the door."
"You realize that's the basement and that ther-" I begin/
"Stan sleeps upstairs and spends most of his day downstairs in the basement. I'm not even allowed to know what he's doing down there." Gert finishes.
"Hon. He's growing pot down there."
"How do you know?"
"I glimpsed before you yelled at me!"
"You must be mistaken. Stan? No."
"I saw lots of green colored plants, foil trays, and PVC pipe on the ceiling. I've seen enough HBO to know that's pot." I say.
Gert looks stunned. Then I hear it. Thump thump thump thump. Real fast. Stan's running down the stairs.
"RUN!" Gert yells at me. I start for the door when he's at the foot of the stairs. I realize this guy is huge and...old. But strong and angry and headed right for me and I only have about a ten foot lead. I bolt for the side door and make it out and across the street from the front of the house. I spin around ready to scratch this guy's face with all my might...but he's not there. He never left the house. Gert's still in there! Oh look, me about to play hero again, I run in to save her from what in my head is guaranteed to be a guy beating up a girl my age. I run in to find Stan dead on the floor and Gert watching the TV.
What the crap happened? I was outside for all of five seconds. How did she kill him AND start to watch TV that fast?
"What happened?" I ask her, breathing heavy.
"Looked like a heart attack" she says calmly. She turns off the TV and turns to me. "So, wanna go see if it *is* pot down there?"
um...sure? Why the hell not?
I nod and we go down stairs. I see before me row after row of the illegal green. "Shhhh" Gert suddenly says. "What? I didn't say an-" I begin before another "shh" silences me. Then I hear it. Wind almost. It sounds like a ventilation system. It's defiantly air moving, but its moving to a very slow and steady long beat. Quietly we investigate. We're not looking for the noise, we're just looking at all this ... I don't know... scandal down here.
I have a bad habit of not looking where I'm going. Yeah. It's gotten me into trouble before, and me accidently running into doors and walls has given me concussions in the past. I turn into something in that basement. Something that moved back. All I see at first are jeans and very very strained buttons to contain whatever is wearing those jeans.
Wanna guess who was wearing them?
A monster. Made out of Pot. Who was alive. And pissed.
Only I could wake up the Incredible Pot Hulk.
Literally. He looked like the Hulk. Green. Angry. Really tiny tuft of hair on top. But, he wasn't the Hulk. He was the Pot Hulk. Made completely from Pot. And somehow...alive and trying to eat me and Gert. Yay.
"RUN" I scream this time to Gert and we bolt up the stairs and outside. Pot Hulk stomped up the stairs after us, breaking them as he went and tore through the house and out the door. We ran around the house and climbed trees, ran to other peoples' houses and did what ever we could to get away. He was destroying the neighborhood and uprooting everything. Things caught fire, got smashed, and Pot Hulk was on the loose. He wasn't even chasing after me and Gert anymore. He was simply looking to destroy.
"Kate! Run to the Police Station! Tell them Stan was growing. They can fix this!" Gert yells at me. So I run to that dance studio, now very happy I read those letters on the door.
I bolt into the studio and see a guy in a leotard striking a dance pose against a red wall. I swear every single wall was a different color. The guy just said, go straight back. I turn the corner to head "back" and oh great. This dance studio is set up like a fricken laser tag arena. It's a maze in a big room with different sized walls and holes to hide behind or shoot through. And "dancing" was merely an artistic and flow-y game of laser tag between the different leotard colors. So, navigating through that I finally reach the Police officers. A bunch of men in uniform...in the middle of this laser tag arena.
I tell them about Pot Hulk. I tell them that Stan grew him in his basement.
They ignore me. And I keep trying. I was there frantic for a good ten minutes before I realize two men have been watching me through one of the laser tag holes. I feel threatened. I feel like this men will chase me if I run and punish me or take me to the pot hulk. Eh, screw them. I ran anyway.
Yup. They chased me.
I ran through the maze and back out the door. To my right was destruction, Mr Green killing people and no one trying to stop it. Sirens going off, but no one answering them. I see no hope. To my left was the pier. God, PESO A FISH FERRIES was a welcoming neon sign. I ran to it and flipped Gandolf a quarter (cheap ferry ride I guess) and hopped onto the boat shaking. I found a corner and wrapped myself into a ball and closed my eyes. "It'll all go away. It'll all go away" I thought to myself.
Then I realized, the boat hadn't moved.
I open my eyes and see those same two men there in front of me and Gandolf behind them. They were green.
I jumped up to run again but I was cornered. I felt a hand over my mouth. Darkness as something was pulled of my eyes. Laughter from the men rang through my ears. I kicked and punched and struggled and I couldn't move.
I was picked up and thrown over someone's shoulder. All I could hear was the laughing. Finally. I heard one of them say "We're home" as I was thrown off his shoulder and down on the floor.
The impact of me hitting the floor woke me up.
Yup. I dreamed up Pot Hulk. I call that a nightmare. Don't do drugs!
