Talk:Nightmares & Dreamscapes/@comment-4972669-20131013225735

I have one.

September 14, 1993:

In the dream, I was playing pass with some of my friends that I had met in kindergarten (which I started shortly before). All of them are boys; we threw and caught a basketball and they begin to tease me by throwing the ball far away and forcing me to go get it. I think of it all as simple fun, but I feel a nagging inside of me that tells me that they really don't like me. I try to ignore it, but it upsets me.

As I pick up the basketball and sprint back to the group once more, I see a helicopter approach over the horizon. Its blades whirred and whirled, tossing up debris as it flew over our heads.

At the same time, a commercial airliner made a sudden, abrasive nosedive, soaring right toward the school.

The paths of the helicopter and the plane meet, and....

They collided.

In one huge explosion, the school and the plane and the helicopter were all destroyed, reducing the building to flaming rubble. I can hear the anguished screams of the people inside, and my panic level goes up.

At the same time, my friends' eyes roll into the back of their heads; they stood there, spasming and spurting foam from their mouths.

I try to shake them out of their seizure-like state, but to no avail.

At this point, shit starts to get really fucking scary.

I can hear groans as people, students and teachers clamber out of the wreckage. Most of their body had been burned, exposing some of their muscle, bone and organs; some of their necks have been broken, others have had their stomach cut open and their entrails removed, others have been contorted into a pose that reminded me of Jesus being crucified, and others were in the process of mutilating their own faces. However, they did have one thing in common: they were rapidly decaying.

And even worse, they were quickly approaching us.

I tried even harder to shake them out of it,  but when I saw the horde of revived cadavers I just ran.

I ran.

Looking back, I saw that my friends had been swarmed by the horde, ripped apart and eaten. I held back dream-vomit as the horde's hand tore flesh and tissue and stuffed handfulls of human material into their mouths.

It was at that point that I attempted to run across the road, but a truck was speeding by at that moment; I caught a glimpse of the mangled driver before I was hit.

I then woke up. No screaming, no jolting awake, just the natural transition to awareness.

After I regained a sense of where I was, I buried my face in my pillow and began to weep silently.

Post-dream, I never watched Dateline NBC again. Not even to this day.