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Symbolism on Hand

Dreamer: Unknown, many?
Date: 10/12/2014
Where dream occured: Across the Realms
Interpretation included: None yet.
This was recited to me by Someone who had Precognition.- Iawen

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Amidst a seemingly normal dream you find a finely cut gemstone sitting on a table before you. You reach for it and can't help but ponder your own reflection therein. It looks like you... but it's dressed differently... and the skin color isn't quite right, but then again, you are looking through the stone. You spot a flicker of excitement, or could it be fear, in the reflection as the eyes of the image widen. As you peer deeper into the reflection and you feel yourself falling into it. For a moment's time you and your reflection pass through one another. In those brief seconds you feel somehow more whole. As this fleeting feeling passes all that remains are the walls of cut crystal surrounding you. You pound your fists against them and cry out with all your might. A sinking feeling sets into the core of your being as you realize that the image in the gemstone is running away. Free at last!

There is a place here with you, inside the gemstone. You see a flat span of land with harsh winds blowing across it. The sky is a dull gray and the feeling of claustrophobia around you becomes palpable. You know this place from somewhere in your travels, you have seen it before. Your mind tries fervently to remember from where but your animal instincts for flight have taken hold. There's nowhere to go inside this crystal prison except... down. An open, rotted stump. But there is something in there, you know it. Each breath of air becomes harder to take in. Your heart pounds wildly. Are the walls of the world or the crystal getting closer? Will you be crushed if you do not flee?!

Panic!

Raw fear!

You dive into the hole. Your world goes dark save for one thing: a sword, falling to pieces, bit by bit. So fine it seems to be made of sand. Your time and your air here are dependent on that sword, and when it completely falls into a useless pile, your last breath blows it all away.

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You give a scream, a gasp, or a shout. You are in a cold sweat from head to toe. You are clutching in your hands your bed sheets torn from what you can only imagine must have been a terrible nightmare. There are slight stains of red in the sheets held in your hands. You realize that your had clutched it so hard as to dig your own fingernails into your palms. Images flit through your mind from the dream but it refuses to hold onto any of them. They slip through your memory like water through cloth. But there was something important. Something you must remember! What was it though? Cut glass? No. A mirror? Not quite. A stump? The past? A sword? Your hands pounding on something...?

"Wait... Could that be the piece to this puzzle that I'm missing?" Your eyes drift to your hands once more, and then you see it: skin so dark, it's almost black.

Your hands. What happened to your hands?

You try to put the pieces together faster than your mind tries to erase them. Realizing the futility of the effort, you drop your head into your hands and begin to sob quietly.
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Then you truly wake up, with tears in your eyes not yet fallen, confused beyond belief and making sure that your hands are actually yours.
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 04-20-15 09:54 AM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 04-20-15 09:54 AM