Dreams

One moment I am snuggled up in my cosy bed, the next, in a dismal cave, then I am falling into the crevasse of life. Now I am in a parallel universe, where luminous purple figures roam around the oddly shaped houses. They’re what I would imagine skulls would look like, as I have never seen them before, apart from in cartoons. One of the 'creatures' grabs hold of my arms, while another my legs. They wordlessly carry me over to a stone well, and it looks deep to me. The 'Things' are tying rope around my arms and wrists and legs and ankles and mouth. Trussed up like a chicken, they rolled me over the edge of the gap. I can feel the most wonderful sensation, like I’m flying, and I close my eyes, ready for the impact. It's not arrived. I have waited with tightly screwed closed eyelids for such a long time (or so it feels), but still nothing has come.

I am slowly peeping through the lids of my eyes, and now feel like gasping in delight. I am flying, and rather high as well. I peer up, and can see a beautiful pair of silky white wings, fit for angels. Now I'm descending, I'm getting an unsure, unsafe feeling. Why am I receiving this strange message from my brain? And why am I dressed in a long, flowing white nightgown? A loud squawking sounds, and I feel like the birds are calling to me, warning me. A loud CRACK fills the air, and suddenly my beautiful daydream is turning into a nightmare. Boys with guns are lurking below me, hiding behind bushes, trying to shush each other, but I can still hear what they are saying. Well, vaguely anyway. Something about 'a reward for shooting the great white bird', a 'Pan' and a 'Hook'. Something has just clicked inside my brain. I must be in 'Peter Pan'! Oh no, I am wearing a white nightgown, I am flying, and I have wings... I AM THE GREAT WHITE BIRD! They're going to shoot me, and I am only just starting to realise it. If this is like the book, then Peter Pan should save me, but I somehow don't think that it is, because I am Wendy, right? Well, I am positive that in the book, Wendy doesn't have wings. She flew using fairy dust from Tinkerbell. So I might not be saved! I might even die! I can hear another three cracks, and now there is a searing pain in my right leg, my left wing and my left arm. I am spiralling down through the sky, and the exclamations of 'oh, it's not a bird, it's a girl!' are echoing through my head, and they might just be the very last words I ever hear.

I seem to be in an old building of some sort, but I can’t be sure; it’s too dark for me to see properly. The sun is sinking fast, and now its pitch black. But I can still see, I can see better now, I can see gold. Golden light seems to be seeping through the place, filling this dark with light. My curiosity draws me towards an exhibit of some sort, am I in a museum? My footsteps echo around the desk, and they are joined with those of an elegant beast, gracefully padding across the floor, its eyes fixed on me. I know only too well what species of animal this is. This is a lion.

I am running towards the exits, but they are locked. I can hear something big, something elegant, padding its way across the museum towards me. I dive under the desk, and immediately wish for a higher place to hide. I can see great big paws, surely the lion. I am peeping over the top of the desk, and yes, it is indeed a lion. Its great shaggy mane, its silky golden fur, its beautiful brown eyes, now looking straight at me. I need to think, and fast. There is a chandelier hanging above me, with a thick cord hanging down from it. It is too late to change my mind. I am running, running towards that cord, my only hope. My heart is pounding as fast as my stalkers paws. I was never very good at climbing, especially ropes. I can climb this one though.

I am clumsily clambering up the cord, and now I am at the top. I need to get rid of the rope, now, before the predator meets its prey.

My fingers are numb, and sweaty, and I fumble with the knots, untying them one by one. The lion is trying (and succeeding) to climb up the cord, up to the chandelier, up to me. Finally, the last knot. I am untying it, now my clumsiness must pay the price. The price tag is on my life. I can just imagine it in a shop. Price: 1 Life – must be bought by clumsiness. Finally the knot has slipped, and the rope is falling. Yet the lion seems to have its own plans. It's leaping off of the cord, towards me. I must get rid of it. I am swinging the chandelier backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. It's not working. I need to live, I have to live. My parents, my siblings my pets, my friends, they need me. I need me.

The lion’s jaws are opening wide, wider, wider, even wider now, showing off its giant cavernous throat, its huge sparkling teeth, soon to be embedded deep into my flesh.

It has hooked onto the light with its claws, and jerked it. I am falling to the ground, but, now, just before the floor has met my face, something extraordinary seems to be happening.

A brilliant white light is almost blinding me, and I can see stars before my eyes, and swirling spirals of all the colours of the rainbow are waving at me too. Bubbles are forming, dark blue has filled my vision. I can't breathe. I CAN'T BREATHE!

The sun is shining above me, but strangely distorted. My eyes are stinging, and my feet are touching nothing. I feel... I feel... well... wet. I think I am underwater. Oh my goodness, I am underwater. Oh no, I'M GOING TO DIE!

Ok, calm down. I can do this. My lungs are bursting, and I am swimming, swimming to safety, or so I thought.

I could see light up ahead, and I started towards it. My shoes were preventing me from using my feet to swim properly, so I slipped them off, and swam to the surface. What I saw made my heart skip a beat.