It has been quite some time since I last updated Xanga. I believe now would be a good time. I am now over the shock of the dream, but it is still a little creepy. I had this dream two nights ago....this is the story of a dream I had previously told to Jake (http://www.xanga.com/trappednowhere000 ) on Aim. So this is copy and pasted.
All right, I went to bed around eleven o' clock. I went to sleep in a normal position. No strange foods before bed, nothing like that.
Anyway, in my dream, I was sitting at my computer, big surprise. I heard something pull into the driveway, so I went to the window to look and saw a big black van. I automatically knew who it was, so I ran downstairs and tried to hide. The people in the van were Iraqi gunmen. Don't ask how they got in my dream, I honestly don't know.
So, I was hiding and they came into my house and looked for me. They could be looking for anyone else in our town, but they looked for me. So I was running to different places to escape them. Now, my house is out in the country right now, but in the dream, it was in town. Back in the dream, I was creeping around my house, and left and started walking down the sidewalk.
Well, I'm walking down the sidewalk, and I see a bush that is smaller and more round than the others. Keep in mind, in the dream it was late at night. Very dark. The bush popped up and turned to just be an Iraqi hunched down. They pulled out aa gun and shot at me, but I had jumped behind a bush. They came over to the bush and were ready to shoot me, but I pulled a gun out of nowhere and killed him.
So then somehow, I was back at my house trying to escape the Iraqis. So I am going from place to place, and all of a sudden, BAM! I was shot. I was shot in the spine and I was dead, face first on the ground. I woke up and looked at my clock, 12:19. I was curled in the fetal position holding my pillow under my head. My mouth was very dry, much like cotton.
I tried to keep those thoughts our of my head, but to no avail. I fell back asleep.
I was dead still, but alas, I was up and walking around....as a ghost. I was in Little Falls Community High School. Just walking around. I somehow knew some people could see me, whereas others could not. Next thing I know, I am walking around with someone talking to them. Then, I am seeing it from someone else's eyes. I see the person I am tlaking to talking to themselves, walking around. It was depressing, but I kept talking to them.
Then, I was walking around, and some crazy guy saw me and asked me to come in the janitor's place. I did so and he asked to examine my wound. He knew I was dead, but he asked anyway. So I said sure and laid down on a table. HE dug into my open gunshot wound and pulled out some strange substance. Keep in mind, I was a ghost, his hand should've gone through me.
I left after a bit and continued to walk around.
Now, some kid came up to me and asked why I was pale or something. It regarded me being dead, and he didn't believe me when I said I was dead.
I turned around and showed him my large open woud with the blood all over my back. He then believed me. Now, for some odd reason....I could feel the same sensations and feelings of alive people. I could feel cold and thirst. I was thirsty. I went and got a glass of lemonade. A glass of lemonade was the part in the story that depressed me most.
I drank some of the lemonade, but it went right through me. Not like, I had to go to the btahroom, it went through me and landed on the floor.
At that precise moment, I knew I was alone.
It depressed me greatly. I looked into the auditorium as a play was going on, so I walked in. I walked down the left side of the aisle to the stage. I walked up the stairs on the left and stood with my back against the wall watching the play...onstage.
After a little while, I realized some people could see me, so I stood back up at full height, not leaning back and the stage made a loud CREAK. Then there was silence, the play stopped, and there was no noise. I walked down the stairs and sat in the corner seat next to David Schuett.
After a bit, I was inside the commons again, but there were no tables there. Some kid walked up to me and handed me a newspaper article. It had said I was a drug dealer and the Iraqis were mad at me, so they killed me. I was very angry and yelled at this person with great force. A storm started with wind, thunder, lightning and rain, inside the school. So I was really flipping out at this guy. He started begging for forgiveness, so I walked outside and put up one hand to the storm and it stopped.
I realized that people had to know the true story of my death, so I went home and began typing it. I was halfway through before I realize I had been typing I and Me throughout the whole thing. I stopped and gave up, because tell me, if someone gave you a story saying this is how I died....would that make any sense?
That was the end of my dream, me giving up on writing my death.
That is the story of my death in my dream. It was very strange and altogether sad. It was also depressing. I will be linking people here to read the story and stuff. so here it is....the dream that caused me a certain amount of paranoia.
Willow Whisp | 
