So it’s been a little while since I’ve posted something, but I saw a prompt post about “wacky dreams”. I really liked the idea because I do have a lot of vivid and bizarre dreams, and often write them down as writing inspiration later on. One of my most memorable dreams is a very odd one indeed, which I’ve used as the inspiration for this post.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair whilst looking at the strange money. Each stick was worth one credit, and each could be broken down into 0.2 credit segments of equal length. Unsnap them for small change; snap them back together for a whole credit. It looked alien to me.
I looked around. I was in a bank, sat at one of their one-to-one customer booths. For some reason I needed a loan and had been left waiting to be served. All the other customer service desks were busy. I looked back towards the entrance and saw the rest of my class waiting there for me. I’m fourteen years old. Why would I even need a loan?
I give up on the loan and walk out to meet the rest of my class. I don’t know how long they’ve been waiting, but they don’t seem to be bothered by my absence. Now a complete group, we continue our school trip to Jurassic Park.
We walk through the entrance of the park in line pairs, each group led by a teacher. I look at my friend who I’m paired up with. She seems excited. I feel worried because it’s as if there’s something I’m supposed to remember about this place. As we walk through the entrance in our twos, someone on a bicycle speeds ahead of us. It’s a mild annoyance, but I still marvel at how convenient it would be to move that much faster through the park. Suddenly, I hear a roar and only one thing registers in my mind. The velociraptors must have escaped.
Chaos ensues with hordes of people in the park turning to run in the opposite direction. Out of nowhere, a familiar bicycle appears again, now mounted by a very nimble velociraptor. It’s a confusing sight as it cycles towards me, yet as soon as I think, “Velociraptors can’t ride bicycles, can they?” the dinosaur crumples off the bike with a helpless screech. I stare, a bit dumbfounded, but I take the opportunity to grab the bike and cycle my way out.
After cycling for a mysteriously unknown amount of time, I stop at a weir to catch my breath. The water is moving slowly, but not as it should be in a weir. It looks murky and viscous, and seeing some empty orange barrels nearby, I can only conclude that someone has been dumping toxic waste into the water. The overhanging bridge to cross it has rusty railings that don’t seem to be very sturdy, with missing pieces in places where it’s rusted away. When I try to navigate the bike across, it gets stuck. Its wheels are firmly caught in the gaps between the rusted metal walkway, and I try my best to pull it loose. I pull it with all my strength, yet I am taken by surprise when the wheels are suddenly freed. I lose my footing and slip.
I fall off the bridge with the bike and feel myself sinking into the thick grey mess of the water. The bike sinks into its depths quickly, but luckily I manage to grab onto the riverbank since the water is flowing so slowly. I drag myself out of the water and sit on the riverbank, exhausted. There is an odd tingling and burning sensation in my back. I stretch to ease it out, yet my shoulders are strangely heavy. I look back, and find I have sprouted a pair of large, fluffy white wings. Feeling like nothing can hold me back, I turn to the fields and start running as fast as I can. I run faster and faster, picking up speed until I shoot off into the sky of blinding white sunshine.