These are pieces of dreams that I remember:

(this is can't be more than two years old, probably just that, actually)
I was walking on a street and it was winter. The sky was somehow purple and there was ice in the air. I swear there was, small pieces of ice everywhere that hurts my skin and reflected light so that it looked like the whole sky was shining (in shades of purple and light pink). I was walking on a street that was slippery, I almost fell down a few times.
I was walking downhill and looking at this marvellous tree that was completely covered in ice when I fell. This time I couldn't regain my balance so I flew through the air, backside first and hit the ground. Right before I hit my head to the street I knew I was going to die. I just knew it. And I was very relieved about it.

(Needless to say, I think , is that one description of an actual happening I read on a.s.h. one day that was just like my dream disturbed me immensely.)

- - -

(a very old one)
I was indside our house, looking out at the dirt road that goes right by our living-room widow. It was summer, and above the road was a cloud of dust that was shaped like a rectabgle. It kept moving in the wind that blew more dust in the air. I kept watching through the window, knowing that there was something I had to watch out for. I was scared but I knew that as long as I stayed inside I'd be fine. Nothing could get to me.

Then the window blew to pieces and I was standing by the road. The cloud of dirt had disappeared, there was no wind anymore. I knew they were on their way to get me, getting closer every second. I didn't know who or what it was until I saw a figure running at me, with a syringe in his hand. There was something brown and liquid inside it andI knew he was going to stick it into me and that the liquid was something horrible, poisonous. I knew I had to avoid getting caught at any cost. At which point I started running away.

There's a park right beside our house and although I knew I shouldn't have, I couldn't avoid running there. It was like someone or something had kicked me to that direction and there was nothing I could do. And of course the guy with the syringe got to me. He stuck it under my skin, emptied it and disappeared. I started running home and I was terrified. I knew I was going to die because of it. I got home, and tried to hide under the bed but there was a huge mirror so I couldn't fit in. When I looked at myself in the mirror I could see some brown, mold-like tumors growing to my hands and face.
Which is when I woke up.

Index.