So the dreams are back again.

I’ve not had one for awhile, so it was odd waking up this morning after one. I knew that I had been crying in my sleep and I’m pretty sure there would have been screaming and shouting.

The dreams vary on each occasion, although there was a period when the same dream repeated and repeated like a stuck record. That dream always took me back to my primary school, although now it had been taken over by some macabre theme park owner. Classrooms were filled with wax statues of Disney characters, although all had a hint of malice. The one that I would always end up in, despite knowing what was going to happen and despite willing myself to head for the exit, was the room that contained Snow White and her merry band of dwarves. She looked like Snow White, classic prim and proper with a bird on her hand, but she would change shape on approach. Her teeth became sharp and manicured hands turned to talons.

Then she would leap, and tear and bite. I would not die, I would struggle against her weight and hope to wake up. Then it would go dark and I would be on a beach at midnight. And I would be running. Running from two men.

It felt so real that I could smell the salt and feel the grains of sand in-between my toes. I would be running away from them, sometimes glancing over my shoulder to see if they had given up but they kept on coming. They had no face, just a dark place where features should be. Or perhaps I didn’t want to recognise those faces so chose to make them blank. Eventually I would tire and they would catch up, and then they would stab at me. I didn’t fight back that time, I let it come and I felt every puncture mark against my skin. Then I would wake up crying and lie in bed not wanting to close my eyes again.

The dream yesterday was just as violent, a shop siege against men with guns who were indiscriminately gunning down men, women and children, although I’ve noticed recently that I am managing to survive this time around in these dreams. I even manage to get one or two punches of my own in before I wake up. Does this mean I’m getting stronger in my dreams at least or are my dreams preparing me for something more sinister?

I don’t know if I want Snow White to return, maybe I’m bored of knowing what the inevitable will be and despite my dream strength I can’t change the plot of the story. On the other hand knowing what is going to happen makes it easier to cope with and with recent events I wonder if I need stability in my life no matter where it comes from.

Either way, I wonder if I will ever dream of electric sheep. Will I ever find a purpose in my life, will I ever feel human or myself again?