Woke up this morning...

...with a constipated look on my face after having a nightmare for the first time in years. It was almost 8 in the morning but since I'm in the dorm's west wing (char) it was still dark and rather cold from yesterday's rain and my turbo power fan whirring away from where it sits on my desk. I got out of bed and wandered over to the sink where Mylene was brushing her teeth. Most of the dream had slunk off back to whatever twisted part of my subconscious it had come from but the last few minutes were still fresh. And I wanted to get it out of my system. Mylene was a convenient dumpee and very understanding about it. Plus she couldn't complain since her mouth was full of toothpaste foam.

There was a narrator. He had a calm level voice with a moderate timbre, good for telling serious stories. His voice came from blow and to the left, as if he was crouching next to me, only that I never managed to see him. Then there was a girl. Very pretty. Fine, perfect features of Caucasian persuasion and rosy red cheeks. She was wearing a red dress that went perfectly with her jet black hair in the most clichéd color scheme imaginable. Her hair was wavy leaning heavily towards kinky but fine and soft. Of course, there was a guy. Probably handsome in the same clichéd manner that the girl was beautiful. They were married or something like it, giggly and in love. I don't remember a lot about him because he wasn't around for most of the dream.

At some point he just disappeared. The girl went around looking for him through the complex inner courtyards of a castle like structure calling to him with a voice I couldn't hear. Eventually she made her way out through a small wooden door, the kind with country-home-esque wrought Iron trefoil hinges and studded detailing. She made her way over a small green hill, the long-ish grass rippling in the wind around her ankles, and down into a cemented structure with a terracotta roof. You could see a field from the single window on the east wall that looked suspiciously like a cross between the soccer field in Sci-Hi and the quadrangle behind Mateo Rici. On the north wall there was a calendar and the girl stopped in the little hut and stayed there while the pages of the calendar started flying off one by one.

Someone was sending her information about the guy, for a price. The view panned out until I was standing some 5 meters away from the house apparently floating. The narrator rattled off what the calendar people were offering her and how much they were charging for it, the numbers printed in clean yellowish ink on the pages of the calendar as they flew into my field of vision. The tidbits got more and more expensive and I was wondering when she would get fed up with the extortion and forget about it. She never did.

The last page of the calendar had a huge number with an 8 in it and they were offering to bring her to where the guy was supposedly being held. They took her away in a tank like vehicle. It seems that the drivers were women. Two of them perched on the roof with the girl who was standing on the nose of the vehicle smiling in excitement, not really worried at all. One sat on the hatch as the other stood behind the girl with her gray robes covering her face in the manner of a Muslim woman's burkha. Her eyes were a very light shade of gray or icy blue. They drove for a long time over vast terrain as the narrator explained where they were headed. They reached a dirty brownish gray territory with twisted dead trees flanking them, growing out a sandy loam. Then they got to a lake.

The water was black and the tank rolled right in, being apparently amphibious. In the middle of the lake there was a building that greatly resembled a colonial school house with white wash walls, a dull blue roof and of course the little steeple with the school bell in it. The building was sinking into the lake, its black, strangely ripple-less surface casting a reflection of the building as it went under. Yellow orange tiger eyes looked up at them from beneath the surface as well. The woman with the cold eyes told the girl that her lover was being held captive in the building. For the first time panic marred her perfect features and the girl spun around quickly, intending to dive into the lake and try to rescue him. Three shots zipped past her ear and into the tiger eyes in the lake as she pulled her arms back, gathering momentum for her jump into the unfriendly looking waters. The older woman had pulled out a gun and was now pointing it threateningly at the girl.

Next thing I know, the girl has been shot and is falling into the water, the blood flowing out quickly and making the water the kind of black that’s really just a terribly dark shade of red. The narrator starts to explain, saying something that I don't remember in a disconcertingly calm manner. Then the girl is being dragged out of the lake, screaming in soundless agony, her pretty red dress now in tatters and stained the color of the water. Her face is ashen and her hair has become white and wiry; sticking out from her head like she'd been electrocuted. They keep dragging her in and out of the lake, something about putting the blood back in and getting the right amount. She lies on the shore screaming. Then for the first time in the whole dream, I hear her voice.

And she's screaming for me to kill her.