Doors

Ok, I think it is time for me to come to terms with something. I am not consistent. And, I should stop making promises that I can't keep. So, I will post as often as I can. Enjoy. =)

The dream started off in a dorm. Amanda, Anya and I were hanging out in Troy’s dorm room while he wasn’t there. We weren’t supposed to be in his room, but he was in class. We listened to his music and used his computer to play games. His room was a mess, clothes all over the floor, and his door had been un-locked, which is why we decided to take advantage. We left his room, afraid that he might come back from class early, but then I remembered that I had left my book on the floor, so I ran back to his room and quickly retrieved it. I backed out of his room, taking in one last glimpse of the chaos within, and shut his door; when I turned around…

 I was no longer in the dorm. I was in a different hallway entirely.  This hallway was painted all white with dark hardwood floors, and high, square crown-molding.  The door that I had just come through was one of a set of three doors on that wall, and on the opposite wall was a large rounded square-ish arch-way that opened out onto a large living room and white and blue tiled kitchen. Then, it suddenly came to me, like I had known all along but couldn’t remember, I was in my own house. My mom and I had just bought a new house and we were renting that third room out to Troy. My room was the door in the middle and my mom’s room was the door on the far right. I went into my room. The room was abnormally long and narrow, like it had been made as an after-thought, or by accident. At the end of my room was a bay window with light lemon-cream colored cushioned seats and sheer curtains. My bed was off to the right side of the room, with a matching lemon-cream comforter.  On the left hand wall I had a white vanity. The room was filled with the sunlight filtering in through the windows, painting everything in a warm golden effervescent kind of glow. Next door, Troy’s room was now empty because he had moved out, and the house felt a bit lop-sided and hollow on that end. I looked up at the left side wall of my room, and I could see that the plaster was cracked and a bit had crumbled away onto the floor in a little powdery heap. There seemed to be something peaking out from behind the plaster, so I pulled my step-stool over to the crack in the wall, and stood on my tiptoes to reach the crumbling bit of plaster. I squeezed my fingers in-between the plaster and the wall where it had fallen away and pulled a big chunk of it off with a loud crack. There was a dark recess there that had been hidden behind the thick layer of plaster. I furiously began to pull pieces of the plaster down. When I had finished, there was a small doorway set high and deep into the wall. The door was painted a dark yellow and had a rounded top with a half-moon window cut into three pie slices set in it. I opened the door and there was more plaster on the other side, so I pushed on the plaster and it gave way almost like paper. The door led into the room that Troy had been renting from us. I ran out into the hallway looking for my mom.

“Mom! Mom!”, I yelled in excitement.

“I’m in my room!” She answered.

I didn’t even bother to open her door. I just spoke to her through it. “Mom, can I have the room that Troy was staying in? Please?! I found a hidden door in my wall that leads into that room!”

“Well, I guess so.” She answered.

I ran back to my room, but then realized that I had forgotten to ask my mom something, so I ran back out into the hallway, closed my door, spun around and…

I was no longer in my house. I was at my grandmother’s house, and I had just walked out onto her back porch and slid the sliding-glass door shut. Part of the porch is covered with an open-air structure painted a hot-pink, and the other part is an un-covered round piece of cement. But, the round piece of the porch was gone, and in its place was a large, square ornamental fountain-like pool. On all sides of the pool-fountain, stairs descended into the water, giving it the illusion that it was deeper than it actually was. In the middle was a small raised square where water bubbled up in a soothing sort of care-free way. At the bottom of the pool were hundreds of pearls in shades of cream, white, and grey; and on the surface of the water floated large, base-ball sized pearls. My step-mom came out and said to me, “Isn’t it beautiful? Your dad put it in just last week.” I looked across to the opposite side of the pool, and there was my dad, watering a tree along the fence of the neighbor’s yard. I stepped into the water, it felt so cool against my bare skin, and I lowered myself down and lay in the water, floating on my back. The sky above was a churned up soup of greys and white, and I could feel the wind gusting across my exposed skin. I closed my eyes and…

I was laying on a cold, grey marble floor. I saw myself from above;I was wearing a beautifully ornate, Victorian-style gown in dark-grey satin with light-grey and white stripes. The whole outfit was trimmed in dark-silver ruffles. I was dying. I had been stabbed, and my blood was spreading across the marble floor in a lop-sided dark-red circle from underneath my body.  There was a marble fountain to the left of my body, and as I was dying I could hear it gurgling away, pouring an endless stream of water into the basin. Fortunately I didn’t feel any pain, but I could feel my life trickling to a stop, I couldn’t breathe, it was becoming hard to think, I couldn’t see…

I opened my eyes and I was still in my Grandmother’s back yard, still floating on my back in the square pool that had once been the porch. I stood up shakily, feeling far colder than I should have, and wobbled over to where my Dad was watering the tree. The wind had picked up into a gusty, leaf-tearing howl. I looked past my Dad to where the neighbor’s house usually is, but it wasn’t there; in fact, there wasn’t any ground there at all. Instead, there was the edge of a cliff that plunged far down to angry looking ocean. My Grandmother’s house was now on a cove of cliff faces, and on the opposite cliff face was a whole town of houses painted in red and white that had been built directly into a hill, stacked like legos on top of each other. The wind blew harder, and you could see the houses on the cliff blowing away like sheets of construction paper, buckling in and then scattering. But, when the walls blew away there was nothing inside, as if they had never been real, and real people had never lived in them. The town was just a child’s construction paper dream.

I yelled to my Dad over the wind, “There’s a storm coming!”

My Dad turned to look at me and said, “Yep.” And then turned back around and continued watering the tree.

And then…I woke up.