When I was younger, twelve or thirteen, my bedroom at my parents house was placed in a corner with the head of the bed and one side pushed against the wall. I liked it this way. There can be a certain comfort and security in being cuddled in blankets and pressed up against a wall away from the open edges of my bed.
I think a part of it was that I kept my back to the wall. What I mean is, I could fall back and not fall off. The wall and I had created a mutual trust. I would keep the posters and other teen novelties to a limited supply, it would keep me in bed at night. It worked well. And then one night it didn’t.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I guess that’s part of the dream. That’s what helps it feel real. Makes a person remember it fifteen years after it happened. Either way, there I was in bed. My foot had escaped the covers and was down between the mattress and the wall. I don’t think I was dreaming yet, but I’m not sure.
My foot felt cold and I decided it was time to pull it into the warmth of the blankets. I tried, but It didn’t move. It wasn’t paralyzed. My ankle and toes and everything else was fine. I tried to pull my foot under the blankets again and felt my foot slide further down between the wall and the bed.
The resistance grew stronger as I tried harder to pull my leg back into bed. The harder I tried the more of me slid down between the wall and bed. My trust was betrayed and I swore a thousand posters against my old friend as I felt my hips fall over the edge. I gripped the sheets with all my strength, they slid across the mattress.
My armpits were at the edge now and I realized that I had no other option. I would be going over the edge and it was a simple decision to let go and be done with it or hold on and be dragged over. I can’t remember if I let go on my own or not. I do remember everything going black. I think I was falling, but it didn’t feel like falling.
I was being shaken like someone is trying to wake me up, but the sound and feeling are all wrong. It’s mechanical and rhythmic. I regain my vision. I don’t know if my eyes were closed or if they were covered but as things come into focus I realize I’m standing naked on a conveyor belt.
There’s not a lot of light and I try to see where the conveyor belt is taking me. There’s a turn ahead and it takes the belt passed what looks like an observation deck. It’s enclosed with taffeta privacy glass. The same kind I had always wanted to use in my dream bathroom. I can see shapes move behind it.
My focus is pulled from the glass by a heavy metallic stamping noise. Ahead of me, there are large metal forms, one of each side of the conveyor belt. They slam close at regular intervals. I can’t tell for sure, but I can sense that the figures behind the glass are trying to decide which form I am to be stamped into. The belt moves forward and the forms slam shut. Forward – Slam – Forward – Slam.
I’m slammed between the two forms and everything goes black again. It only takes a second and I feel the tug of the conveyor belt move me forward. I feel dizzy, but I want to see what’s happened to me. I look down at myself and I wake up.
I’ve had this dream several times. I always wake up before I get to see what I’ve been transformed into. It always plays the same way. It’s become one of my favorite dreams actually and I’ve caught myself looking forward to that feeling on my foot or ankle.
It haven’t had the dream in quite a while now and I wonder if it’s just a memory now. I hope not.