Strangers on a Wraith? Wraith on a Train? What?

[trinityofone]

Ugh. Last night I had a really scary dream about the Wraith. (For you non-SGA people, the Wraith are big scary dudes that suck the life out of you with their hands.) Earth was invaded. I was on the run with my three best friends, two guys and a girl, none of whom I know in real life, although the girl was occasionally nenar. The dream was like a movie, moving from set piece to set piece. There was a scene where we hid in the locker room of a school gym, and another on a farm, and a long sequence on a train. (In the dream I made some sort of Strangers on a Train joke, but now I can't remember what it was.) The Wraith were proceeding very slowly and methodically, like now that they had found such a rich repository of food, they could take their time. The dream went on and on.

There was a lengthy bit where I rescued a little girl I had sort of adopted, and another bit where my three friends and I talked about the music we missed and were going to listen to when this was all over, and a bit where I made out with one of my male companions because I decided, in the heat of the moment, that I loved him. And then, miracle of miracles, I found out that my father was still alive. There was a tearful reunion scene, and then he and the little girl and I took refuge in this half-buried trailer. We were feeling halfway safe and secure when a strange woman burst in. She was clearly intoxicated or on drugs, and she started raving about how she was going to take our hiding place. Then she pulled out a gun and shot my father in the head. I screamed and rushed her, disarming her after she sent a few more rounds into the floor. I pinned her down and held my father's hand as he died. Then I emptied the rest of the clip into the woman's face.

I woke up.

So...besides the fact that my dream reads like My First Movie, what was up with that? I mean, it's very nice that I can dream the longest gen fic ever, but what's with that moralistic coda? Sure, the Wraith are evil, but the real monsters are inside us. Thank you, subconscious. I really needed to be told that, and so graphically.

I miss my BtVS days when it was just one long stream of sex dreams about Spike. Where by "one long stream of" I mean "occasional" and by "sex dreams" I mean "a series of increasingly ridiculous scenarios wherein we got interrupted before we could get to the good part" but...yeah. Still.

Comments

[jetspeaks.livejournal.com]

.We were feeling halfway safe and secure when a strange woman burst.

I like this typo. :)

[trinityofone.livejournal.com]

Okay, that would have been a different disturbingly graphic dream.

::headdesk::

[daughtershade.livejournal.com]

*dies laughing* My First Movie... hee. It sounds like you have dreams about as fucked up as mine. At least you've probably never dreamed about Batman coming through your window and asking you to be his friend all whiny like, or have you?