Pools

I was with a few friends whom I don’t recognize in […] reality.  We were inside a shop, or perhaps it was a restaurant, that had large, glass windows set inside of light tan, almost peach, walls.  We clustered close together beneath these windows, for outside, sniffing the ground right on the other side of the wall, was a brown retriever dog that was evil and mean-spirited[…].  It had a face that seemed all red, with blood-shot eyes, and when it growled, it displayed fangs like hundreds of tiny, white daggers.  It was a face that stood in stark contrast to its warm, furry body.

Suddenly, someone from the store ran up to us and informed us in a hurried, half-amazed, half-panicked way that Darth Vader […] was here.  […] [M]y friends and I were walking from the store [when] I said to them, “I don’t care if […] [Darth Vader] is reformed.  Personally, I’ll never forgive him for what he’s done.  Maybe his dog [the brown retriever] but never him.”  We passed Darth Vader as I was saying this.  He was in his usual attire – dark cape, dark mask […] – but I was surprised that he looked that way in public.  I expected him to wear something different.  He was sitting at a small table right outside the door that we left through and he seemed to be having tea and exchanging idle conversation with a simple, ordinary male citizen sitting across from him.  The day was warm and the roads weren’t paved […] – but the streets weren’t exactly dirt, either.  They were more like a strange sort of gravel and stones – like white concrete rubble […] crushed and scattered […].  The small houses were built of white plaster and hardened mud.  The entire place had an odd, Mexico feel to it.

We made our way […] to a very large truck that was quite tall but stout – like a strange, steel hayride carriage except without the hay and horse […].  We sat on top of it […] and looked down as Darth Vader approached and asked if he could join our team.  “Take off your mask!” [o]ne of my friends shouted down to him.  He obeyed and revealed a face red and badly scarred as if from a fire.  We looked upon him […], seemingly so naked and vulnerable without his mask, and my friends relented, letting him join.

At some point, […] my friends ceased to be human but became, instead, these giant turtles that talk and walk on their hind legs.  They were crime fighters – exactly like those from the cartoon […] Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  There was a young, teenage girl that was with them.  She was their friend and also a crime fighter – human with average height and average build and hair that was blond[e] and cut around her ears.  She wasn’t ever ugly – just average looking most of the time – although sometimes, at certain angles, she would become fascinatingly beautiful.  I think she was me, or who I became.  Although the now maskless Darth Vader was still with the Turtles, he became, at the same time, a dark and evil enchantress inside a castle ruin – a separate entity from Vader and yet, not really so separate.

[…] The girl […] [was] within the enchantress’ castle[,] standing on a platform made of stone.  The enchantress was beside her, wearing a dark robe and addressing a few of her subjects who gathered at the foot of the platform.  I remember thinking of the girl, She’s switched sides! [b]ecause she resented the fact that Darth Vader had joined the Turtles.  She wanted nothing to do with Vader and was angry and upset – looking to get back at her friends for allowing him to join.  Thus she came to be on the enchantress’ side – this dark woman who was also a queen and who was tall and thin with pale skin, black eyes, and long, straight black hair.  The girl had become this queen’s most prized advisor […].  The two of them stood on that platform within that dark and ruined castle as the queen announced her plans for moving into a new hiding place – a new castle.

“No!” the girl suddenly interrupted.  “Not that castle, Your Highness!”  […] I saw that she was very beautiful, with long, golden hair tied back in a medieval fashion.  She was tall and thin and wearing a light blue, almost silver dress whose sleeves exposed her forearms.  She proceeded to show her queen a better alternative – a better castle to choose – and as she did so, a great pool of water opened […] above her head surrounded by a stone rim.  An identical pool opened […] near her waist and shimmering there beyond the dark ripples of the watery surface was an image of a stone castle – an image in each pool, like mirrors reflecting off of each other.  “You see, Your Highness?” she said, and reached up a hand to touch the image above her head.  As her fingers brushed across the cold surface of the pool, the image swirled away in white wisps – twisting into the darkness at her command.

“It’s the perfect castle!” [t]he enchantress queen responded, quite pleased.

And then these two women stole away to their new hiding place on a gondola that sailed silently across the night waters as it delivered them to that castle which sat in the middle of an island.  It was here that the Turtles discovered them and fought to break through the convoluted castle walls […].  They were already inside the castle, but couldn’t manage to break all the way in to the very heart of it where the enchantress resided.  The girl, who was average-looking once more and wearing only a shirt and pants (no fancy dress) [,] raced up through the layers of twisted walls to fight against the Turtles and to protect her queen.  She was able to ambush one Turtle, leaping off a ledge onto her opponent below.  They wrestled with each other […] on top of the stone walls before the Turtle said, “So, it’s you!”  He must have lost the struggle, for the girl then went on to a lower section of this complex wall to where four other Turtles were attempting to scale it with ropes.  They hung there next to each other when the girl struck one of them, who in turn swung sideways and struck the Turtle beside him unintentionally – it was like a domino effect of swinging Turtles.

Somehow, they were able to talk to the girl and persuade her to forgive Darth Vader and accept him for his reformed self.  She was able to do so and thus switched back to being on their side – no longer angry with them.  They were a team again, and that was the feeling I came away with when I [woke] from [this] dream.

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Vampires

[…] There were a lot of vampires – everywhere – and I had to try and kill them.  I remember being inside what looked like a castle courtyard – the walls of which were made from brilliant yellow stones.  Positioned […] along the walls, like sentry, were rows of vampire archers – all, or most, of whom were female.

With me in the courtyard were [female] vampire slayers dressed in red and wielding axes of sparkling crimson – axes whose blades were large and whose handles were long – executioners’ axes.  They twirled these shimmering red axes […] with great skill as they prepared for the battle.  But […] [they were] greatly outnumbered as vampires in long, black leather coats leapt from the walls in countless numbers and attacked the slayers.

I, too, held an axe, but it was small – just fit for the hand – and it had no bright hue, just a wooden handle and a sharpened metal head.  Nor did I wear an outfit with a spectacular scarlet tone – just brown pants, boots, and a white shirt.

Overhead, the vampire archers began shooting their arrows down upon us in great torrents.  That was when I ran from the courtyard, sprinting down a passageway graced […] with a series of yellow-stone arches.  But between these arches, lined above against the wall, were more vampires shooting their arrows at me.  I kept running and they did not strike me.

This […] took place in broad daylight – the sunshine filling every corner.  The next thing I remember was completely the opposite – a scene filled with darkness and light like that which comes from dim candles.  I was sitting at a table richly set with tablecloth, elegant platters, [an] array of decorative flowering, and wine poured into jewel-studded goblets.  I was at this table with three vampires and I, too, was a vampire.  The three were discussing what meal they would like to have next and it seemed […] they were going to decide on bringing a human in.  I disliked the idea but kept quiet, reaching over for my goblet to take a drink when I realized that it was filled not with wine, but with blood.

[…] I found myself walking with these three vampires inside a church – behind […] the pews.  The lights were all off and I lagged a few steps behind two of the vampires while the third – the leader – walked a bit behind me, but almost next to me.  He seemed to sense my dislike for being a vampire and he said prideful things, trying to make me see how great it was to be a vampire.

Then I felt my face wrinkle into a terribly frightening scowl, the folds of which twisted across my features as fangs jutted from my mouth.  It made my face feel heavy and uncomfortable.  My neck also began to feel somewhat strange, as if something was choking it.  I raised my hand to touch my throat and realized that there was blood all over it – oozing […] onto my tight shirt collar.  Gasping for air, I frantically grabbed at the collar and tried to pull it away.

[…]

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Ice Castle

I was in another world […] that was tinted with the lightest shade of a mystical blue […].  The people here wore the most elaborate […] costumes – rich gowns of a silky, sparkling material that flowed […] past the ankles, with wide shoulder pieces and detailed [headsets].  There were either no men, or very few.  Their entire palace, or perhaps, the entire kingdom, was like an ice castle set in snow. […]

I entered a gigantic room with a tremendously high ceiling.  Floating […] within this room were numerous, glowing organisms – like dozens of jellyfish within a giant, aquatic tank.  This seemed like a place for dancing or for just relaxing […], for there were other people in bright shades of green and red, among other colors, walking around and doing nothing in particular.  I walked […] to the back […] and looked up […] I saw a cage hanging in the corner near the ceiling.  Something, or someone, was imprisoned inside – […] I hitched a ride on one of those glowing jellyfish, which were constantly rising towards the top, like bubbles in a soda bottle.  I rose […] above almost everything until I reached the cage to talk to its inhabitant.  I don’t remember who the prisoner was, or what we discussed, but I remember thinking the prisoner’s fate unfair.

I wasn’t the only one in this strange land.  I was with my friends, dressed in those elaborate outfits.  […] for some reason, we were trying to escape […] and it was difficult.  I remember being caught by the empress and her servants – four or five of them blocking our escape through a snowy passageway. […]

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Lions

I was looking through a […] textbook […] that detailed past wars […] from centuries ago.  I came upon a colored picture drawn as if it came from a medieval artist’s pen.  There were castle walls twisting across mountains, hills, and valleys and riding across the landscape – over these hills and valleys, scaling the castle walls – were drawn warriors in […] [suits of armor] and swords, riding on the backs of […] lions.  These lions took the soldiers into battle – climbing the walls to break into the castle […].

I thought, lions instead of horses.  Well, that’s a pretty good idea when it comes to wars.  Why didn’t I think of that?  The lions would be like extra warriors.

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Moonlight

It was a room in a […] castle tower […].  The walls were made of stone and outside the glass-less window was a night sky filled with stars and a full moon that glowed white and brilliant.  In front of this window was a large book with a brown, leather cover on a[n] [old and wooden] desk […].  […] there was a fireplace near me – set into the walls.

[Ana] was standing in front of the book and I think it was a feathered pen she held […].  Everything seemed to be tinged with a soft […] tint of blue.  I think [Ana] was a wizard […] and she grinned at me […], as if she knew something I did not.  It was as if she was saying, “Watch!”  And then she touched her pen to the book and I saw that the light from the moon was being pulled down […] in a single, wide, silver beam that stretched across the sky and through our window before spilling onto [Ana’s] book and pen.  I was amazed.  It was like a patch of pure moonlight that connected our window with the moon itself. […]

[Ana], you made the light from the moon come down!

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