We were fleeing from a low-flying space-craft. We were backed into a place without an exit, a parking-garage type structure, with no place to go but up. But we couldn’t hide under things anymore; now they were coming for us on foot… or whatever they walked on. It was understood that there was no escape; that if they came for you, there was no resisting. In spite of this hopelessness, I kept moving, up, up, up… and when I saw a man jump to his death, I still thought Why would you do that? Why give up so easily?
We kept scrambling up the slope of the parking garage trying to escape. The path took us in circles, upward about three stories. When there was nowhere else to go, I peeked over the ledge and saw themcoming.
I could only see them from the back as they progressed around the circular upward slope. They were very tall – several heads taller than the average human, with very dark grey waxy-looking skin. Their heads were enormous, bald, and strangely-shaped, like mushrooms. There were three of them progressing slowly, deliberately, up the slope, each of them holding tablets. (Human-extinguishers?) They wore long, dark capes that hid the shapes of their bodies from my view.
People scattered from them, running every which way, but always upward, like rats seeking high ground from a slow-spreading flood. But the beings ignored the fleeing people; they were coming for me.
That was it then. I desperately wanted to live but I accepted the hopelessness. I knew they would do terrible, unimaginable things to me if I let them catch me. These were not compassionate beings.
I jumped from the third story, to my certain death on the concrete below.
Of course I woke up before I hit the ground, because you can’t die in your dreams.
It was the middle of the night. My husband slept in sweet oblivion beside me. Why can’t my sleep be as dreamless as his? My heart was still pounding from my dream. I had to pee really bad, like drunk-pee bad, but didn’t want to get out of bed because a tiny part of me is afraid that my alien dreams are causedby aliens. Like maybe they’re curious about this peculiar and unfamiliar human emotion called ‘fear,’ so they implant terrifying dreams in our minds and then examine our response.
Maybe they were standing just outside my window with their giant waxen heads, peeking in through the cracks between my blinds so they could better observe their sleeping subject. I wouldn’t know unless I came very close to the window to look out. But then it would be too easy for them to grab me. Better not to know. Let them sit out there and read my mind.
But still… I really had to pee. I threw the covers off and ran to turn on the lights so I wouldn’t have to pee in the dark. The blinds on the little window directly in front of my toilet are always lifted a crack so that my husband can charge his watch by the sun in the morning while he’s in the shower. If the lights are off at night, you can see out that crack – especially when the moon is almost full, as it was last night. If there was something out there… well I’d just rather not know. Better to have the lights on.
I was so scared that I almost left the lights on when I went back to bed. But how to explain that to my husband? Anyway, the lights would disturb his sleep. So I turned them off and sprintedback to bed (DON’T LOOK AT THE WINDOWS). I looked down the hallway towards my kids’ rooms, to the top of the stairs. OH MY GOD THERE WAS SOMETHING ROUNDING THE CORNER AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS.No. Just the doorknob.
“What’s the last thing you remember before you woke up in the hospital and learned you’d had a heart-attack, ma’am?” “Well, doctor, I thought the doorknob was an alien trying to abduct me…”
What was wrong with me??? Please God, let me not dream about aliens when I go back to sleep…
This happens to me about once per month. I call it The Alien Dream
. If you’ve been reading this blog from the beginning you know of my pathological phobia of aliens
The Alien Dream is not the same every time.
One time I dreamed that the aliens were taking over the humans’ bodies and there was no way to know who had been ‘taken’ unless you looked in their eyes and they were an inhuman glowing green color. (Yes I know Stephanie Meyer wrote a book with a similar premise but I HAD THE DREAM FIRST, and I can only conclude that she is one of them and was sitting outside my window that very night recording my dreams with her insipid telepathic alien-brain. I’m onto you, Stephanie.) Anyway, in that dream, the only way to kill the aliens was to chop off their heads. And of course in the process of running from the alien takeover, I realized that my best friend’s mom was ‘one of them.’ So unfortunately I had to chop off my best friend’s mom’s head. Isn’t that just peachy?
Another time I dreamed that I couldn’t see the aliens themselves but they were destroying everything, all the buildings, with their flying spacecraft. They were trying to wipe out all life on the surface. I found underground tunnels and was running from them under the tunnels even though all hope had obviously been lost.
My fear might be a little bit crazy, but… it is what it is. And in spite of the improbability of any life-form having the life-span necessary to traverse the thousands of light-years it would take to get here, I don’t really think my fears about the aliens alleged (I’m the one alleging here, obviously) malicious intentions against humanity are totally unfounded. I mean, why would aliens have any reason to respect our existence? What importance would they place on our survival? After all, do humans care about bugs (a lower life form than us)? I just slapped the shit out of myself trying to kill a gnat that landed on my face. Poor little guy, he was just being a gnat. Did he really deserve to die?
And since when did humans ever care about any native life they’ve come across upon discovery of a ‘new’ land? Did they care about the Native Americans? Did they care about the Africans or the Incas? No, they cared only about their own self-interest, their own survival. They squashed them like bugs, and even when they discovered that the natives were actually human just like they were and tried (in a very half-assed way) to maintain some manner of coexistence, they killed them all off with the diseases they carried within themselves. Imagine what kinds of diseases aliens could give us, to which they would be already immune.
Maybe my fear of aliens is really a reflection of my disappointment with the cruelty of humanity. Geeeeez, that’s depressing. No, I’ll just continue to assume that I picked up my fear from watching a terrifying alien movie as a child. Fire in the Sky traumatized me, people. If you haven’t seen it, go ahead and watch it but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You could end up just like me having to pee with the lights on and being frightened of doorknobs.
I’ll try to keep talking myself out of the fear. (How could a life form survive all those light-years? What would they eat? Where would they get the energy to fly their spaceship that far? Who knows if they even exist?) I can be rational, really I can. But I probably won’t ever be able to sleep with my windows open… or even the blinds for that matter. Forget about tent camping! And I doubt my dreams will ever stop. But it would be nice if someday I’m able to pee in the middle of the night without turning the lights on.
Do you have an irrational fear? Do you think aliens exist? And I know I’m going to hate myself later for asking this but… have you ever had any kind of encounter with… you know… them?