Dreams

I have dreams that are just crazy and really vivid. Maybe it's just my imagination at work because sometimes I wake up and think "woah, that would make an excellent story." I tried it once, turned a dream into a story. I had to change a few things, and obviously add more since dreams like to just end in random places (don't you hate that? -- then you lay there trying to fall back asleep so you can figure out what happened.)

I had another really vivid and crazy dream last night that I hope to turn into a story. It's much different from my normal style of writing, so it'll be a nice challenge. Keep reading, I just may post some of it up here.

Here's an excerpt from one of my crazy dream stories:

(I don't have a warning on my blog page, so I had to censor some spots. I like the original much better, it's more spicy)

I woke up in a cold dark cell; it was dirty and gross. I could feel dried mud on my arms, legs, and face-- pretty much anything that wasn’t covered by clothes. I had a splitting headache and no idea why I was here.  “Ugh. I could really go for a hot cup of tea right now, and a warm bath,” I said, not even thinking that anyone was around except for the pacing guard who was currently on the other side of the hallway.

“Well you ain’t gettin’ any of that in here sweetheart,”

I could hardly see the man that was in the cell with me, but I could see that he was fat and had chains around his ankles. His voice was rough and cracked like he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while. I wished he would lick his lips or move his tongue around in his mouth to salivate before he had spoken.

“Why would they put a man and a woman in a cell together? I thought there was some kind of law or something about that?”

“Ain’t no laws here honey, they do as they please. Ain’t nothn you can do about it. Afraid I’m gonna hurt ya? Don’t be scared sweetheart. I’m chained down good and tight.”

“Where are we?”

“Mexico’s finest prison,”

“A prison? How did I get here? Man I’ve gotta get out,”

“You ain’t goin nowhere sweetheart; they keep you here on their terms. Ain’t no one broke outta here in a long time,”

“Well today’s your lucky day because I’m getting out of here, and so are you,”

“Ah, that’s sweet of you honey, but why d’ya  rekon’ I’m gettn outta here too?”
“Because, you are going to get the guard’s attention and when he comes to check on you, I’m going to knock him out,”

“Anything for you sweetheart,” he said, half annoyed, “what do I need to do?”

“First of all, don’t get any ideas. After we get out of here, we have to go in separate directions. I’ve got things to do. I was sent here on a mission,”

“They must have hit you hard when they captured you honey cause you don’t make a lick of sense. Sent here on a mission psh who do you think you are?”

“I’m a journalist for a newspaper, but that’s none of your business. Now be on your toes because when that guard comes back you are going to double over, hold your stomach and start groaning. Make as big of a scene as you can,” I took the rest of the water that was in a bowl set out for me to drink and threw it under him. I wasn’t going to drink it anyways, there was barely any there, and it looked gross, “there, it’s dark enough in here that he’ll think its blood. I’ll freak out and tell him something is wrong with you, when he comes in to check I’ll knock him out and we’ll be free.”

“I can’t be on my toes seeing as how I’m chained to the wall darlin’ but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Shh. Here he comes, go.”

“Marrrggggghh”

“Aaah!” I screamed as daintily as possible, “oh my god you’ve got to help him, he’s bleeding all over the place. Please hurry. Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?”

The guard ran to our cell, pulled out a ring of keys, and quickly opened the door. He came in and the fat man was still groaning like an idiot, I couldn’t believe this worked. When the guard took a close look at the fat man, I kicked him in the head. He fell over unconscious.

The rest of the story is action packed and has a bit of fantasy involved, if you'd like to read the rest shoot me an email at rphiller@eiu.edu