"When You're Tired, And You Can't Sleep..."

I was sifting through my emails, and found this one of a dream I remembered & typed out for my little sister. It truly was an odd one, but rather epic, if I do say so myself. My dreams always DO turn out a bit like a Lewis Caroll book. For clarification, my brother and sister are named Rik and Stina.

Enjoy!

I was at school and the choir was singing something with showtunes and they were really good but they wouldn’t let me do my homework so I left.

Then I was at home with some friends having a sleep over and a smoky ghosty reflection of a king I must have killed in a previous dream came to haunt/attack us. I shouted at him in a very commanding voice and ordered him to be gone. Something I did must have worked because he gave a very shocked expression and evaporated.

Then I went out my bedroom window and climbed down to the first floor and one door to the left, which was a tavern/hotel. Obviously. I had been there before. It was owned by a large bearded man with an almost German accent who had hid my elderly friend, someone important (like maybe some princess?) and I when we were being followed and trying to escape this country (that I had now returned to on a summer trip with my girlfriends) He was at the piano (which had been the place of my older friend, as he was a pianist) so I was surprised to see the tavern/hotel owner there in his stead. I greeted him. He was shocked to see me and as he embraced me, whispered that I should not be there. We both understood that people would still be hunting for me. I brushed the comment aside.

            I then remember riding a chinese spirit dragon as I flew around attempting to gain control of some other creature in dark woods in the middle of the night. I was unable to do so and wound up in a dark cavernous kitchen with my mother in the basement of some huge castle-like establishment. We knew we would be imprisoned or killed should we be found out, so we disguised ourselves as cooks and when people arrived, eluded conversation and questions with an elaborate display very like the dance sequence of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’s “Toot Sweets” number, but without the singing. The previous cooks had prepared a huge array of cakes and candies on the top two or three racks of the large metal industrial trays, that I repeatedly jumped up and grabbed to pass out to the onlookers who totally bought in to the cook façade. Mom turned to me and in an attempt to get me out of the kitchen so I could complete the task we had entered enemy territory to do, said “we need more cinnamon. Go get some.” So I headed to where the cinnamon was kept. On my way up the industrial concrete and metal handrail back stairs usually seen in buildings, I passed Kristina and Rik. They were in the hallway behind a stage door that entered to a huge auditorium. They were helping out with some sort of enormous music festival/program. Stina looked like she was wearing two different ballgowns at the same time, and twirled around for me. Clearly she was proud of it. I nodded in approval even though I was totally baffled at her wardrobe choice. Rik was wearing some sort of ridiculous shirt made of satin with huge glittery treble and bass cleffs stuck all over it. I think there may have even been some gold wire curled around the colar as well. He looked at me as if he was wearing nothing unusual. I didn’t have time to comment as I was on a mission. I continued on my way up the stairs. I also ran into a woman who I knew from before. She ran a good portion of this establishment and knew all of the organization’s secrets. She was somehow a friend. I passed her and she asked me what I was doing. I told her I was going to get cinnamon. She coyly informed me that what I was looking for was in the same vault as the cinnamon. When I finally got to the floor I was looking for, It was a huge wide, long hallway with hundreds and hundreds of large metal doors with numbers on the outsides. I walked up to the gal at the front desk. She had a very bored expression on her face. I told her I needed cinnamon and she pulled a black rectangle out of her desk. It looked like a black credit card but slightly larger and about a quarter inch thick. She popped it into the computer and gave it access to the correct vault. I walked down the hall till I found the proper number, scanned my card, and the door opened. It was like a huge store room mixed with some sort of zoo/pet shop. Food stores lined the walls -- pet food was juxtaposed with glassed, lit cages containing animals I never saw, but I somehow knew one was something like a lion or other wild cat. I think it must have been making noise. There was another metal door (just a push door. No fancy lock) I had to go into in order to get to the human stores. I went in and got a container of cinnamon, and headed back into the pet-room. An odd fat woman with brightly orangey-yellow died hair, and red and yellow clothing (that looked something like a zoo uniform) was in the room fussing over her animals. (or at least over the cages.) I had been in this room once before and I knew this woman was bad news and would alert security if she saw me. But she was so preoccupied with her fussing that she did not take notice of me. I walked out another metal push-door out onto a small grassy lawn that looked somewhat like a balcony. To the right, and just around the corner of the building, there was another cage. A large outdoor mound that looked like the monkey cages at the zoo, with a tall wood pole in the middle holding up a cage of thick rope netting in a wide circle. Inside that cage was a lion man. He had pointy cat teeth and cat paw-like hands, and fuzzy pointy cat ears and wild hair, and probably a tail. I believe he could also fly. Anyway, he had a very good sense of smell, and though his back was initially turned, whipped around and looked me in the eye. He smiled. I smiled back. I knew this creature. I had come here once before to free him. He had been wild and untamed, but something about my body chemistry was different and he liked me and behaved normally when I was around. I knew he would not attack me. He spoke to me, greeting me as ‘smoke slayer’ or some such term of awesomeness I had heard a few times since I scared away the ghost king at the beginning of my dream. It hadn’t seemed like such a big deal at the time, but people seemed impressed. I told him we were going to get him out. (Apparently there were somehow a few other people with me at this time to help with this task.) There was a large hole in the netting and we tried to get him out that way, but before we could, the orange-haired lady bustled out of the building with a large bundle that she crawled into the tent and began to assemble. It was a huge yellow tent that must have been intended as a security protocol because it had much smaller holes than the cage and would be very difficult to escape from. Luckily, as she walked in with the tent, the lion man sped out of the hole in the netting and was hidden in amongst the rest of us as we walked away. I looked back and saw the woman busily and obliviously assembling the tent from the inside, which we knew meant she would be trapped inside it. The lion man saw this too, and stifled a laugh. (His mental capacity was probably only that of a 10 year old, so he acted like a little kid – puffing out his cheeks and covering his mouth as he silently giggled.)                     

And then I woke up. The end.