04/15/02
Die, Bunny, Die!

This one is from a night or so ago. It was already rather vague when I woke up, but it left me with an anxious feeling--for good reason!

A while back in real life I bought a stuffed bunny because it was soft and I wanted something cuddly. This is a rather weird thing for a twenty-five year old to invest in, but that's how I am.

I know there was more to it before the dream memory picks up, but it picked up with me getting off the bus after school. Yes, I was in school again. It was sunny and hot out so it must have been the end of the year. I was in high spirits--what a nice day it was! I went walking to the corner of the road, from the highway, and the shoulder was very wide and dusty. There were other students walking ahead of me but then I noticed a car approaching from behind, from the highway, and decided to wait for it to turn before going into the sideroad. I stood on the shoulder and moved far to the side as this car, a light blue one driven by teenagers, I believe, passed me by, turning in where I was going to walk. And this thing must have passed just INCHES from my feet, although I was on the LEFT side of the road!

I didn't say or do anything, but I must have gotten a dirty look. Stupid drivers could have run over my toes, and they didn't even care! I was more annoyed and insulted than angry, though, and got ready to go into the road (my house is on this road and I needed to walk a little ways), but then I think another car swept past, and I was getting REALLY annoyed because they kept making me wait. I just wanted to get home! All the other students were far ahead of me!

Well, I finally made it into the road, at least, and started toward my house. Then I stopped as soon as I noticed something odd in our yard. I went walking across the grass to investigate. It was a sort of fusebox or something, that had to do with the phoneline, that used to be on the side of the house. Now it was lying in the grass, busted, with just about all of the wires severed. In real life a while back the box out on our telephone pole was opened and the wires were yanked and torn out, and it stayed that way for months before the phone company stopped by and fixed it; our phoneline still worked, so we didn't complain. Now, however, ever since they've "fixed" it, some OTHER lady's answering machine picks up OUR calls unless we set our machine to pick up after only the first ring! We've complained to them, but they only said they'd "look into it" and haven't done anything since. Needless to say, the situation hasn't changed, and it's very annoying that they care so little that our line is obviously crossed with somebody else's.

Anyway, in the dream, I figured the same thing must have happened again--but who kept doing this? And why? Why to US? I was getting nervous about it and decided to go inside and tell Dad of my worries.

Dad was sitting on the couch, watching TV. I went in and now I had my stuffed bunny with me; I'm not sure where I got it, if I'd had it with me before in a backpack, or if I went to my room to get it, or what. But I sat down on the couch and told him about the broken fusebox in the yard. He acted very casual about it when replying: "Oh yeah, I know already. It's been like that. The phone's not working." I asked him if he knew who had done it, but I don't think he did; at least, I don't remember. He didn't much care, but I was still worried. I especially disliked that now I wouldn't be able to go online, if our phone wasn't working. I asked him if we had ANY way to contact the outside world now, and he said no--he didn't care much about that, either!

As I sat there clutching the bunny and talking to him, a couple of gunshots rang out and slammed into the wall right by my head!!

This, of course, startled me no end. For some reason I assumed it was related to the fusebox situation, and started glancing around, terrified. Dad was never very upset in this dream, which seems to be common. "What was that?? Who's shooting at me?!" I yelled. I was suddenly afraid to be near any of the windows, as the shot had come from outside--they could see into the house! This part reminds me of my dreams where people are looking in at me through the windows (see "Return Of The Watchers"), only now it was considerably more dangerous!

Dad and I started talking again, about what I'm not sure, but I couldn't regain my composure, such as it was. I think maybe another shot came, or maybe it was just Dad talking...but as I spoke, holding the bunny in front of me, I noticed him staring past me out the front window, which was behind me. He seemed a bit puzzled and started talking, not once stopping as he did what he did next. He took my bunny and lifted it very slightly so its ears showed over my head; and I think then another shot came abruptly. He then lowered the bunny so I was squeezing it against my body, and the air fell silent. He'd suddenly pointed out the connection: Whoever was trying to kill me...was waiting until that BUNNY was in sight to do so!

Which meant, for some reason, they wanted to kill me because of this STUFFED BUNNY!

I saw the connection now, and I didn't like it; why would somebody want to kill me over a plush toy?? I didn't feel safe in the living room anymore, and so, of course, fled to my bedroom. There, my windows are papered over...but in my dream, they weren't. I slipped inside--it was dim, but still sunny outside--and now it's like I was looking for a snack to eat, some chocolate or something. I may have been crying by now, I felt so threatened. I still clung on to the bunny stubbornly; I didn't want to let him go! At the very least, my south window was not covered entirely, and I felt anxious walking around in plain sight. I went over to a sort of plastic bin that I have with drawers in it, and opened the top one up, looking for snacks.

Inside this drawer was--another stuffed bunny, similar to the one I was already holding, only it may have been white whereas my real one is aqua colored. It was just lying there on its back, smooshed in with the snacks. On seeing it my tears started afresh; I closed the drawer, half of me wanting to rescue the poor toy, half of me terrified of even being near it. I darted a glance toward the window and ducked down, afraid that they--whoever they were--had seen me, could see that I still held this toy, could see that I had ANOTHER one like it! I don't THINK any more shots were fired...before I woke up...but the fear was palpable. I couldn't believe somebody would want to kill me over a silly toy!

When I woke up I was still nervous, though it didn't last as long as it usually does.



2002 Dreams
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