Dream Within a Dream

 I had a dream two nights ago that seemed to be a dream within a dream, you know, like Inception? The timing of the dream is even stranger once you know that I watched Inception just three nights ago.

I slightly digress. 

I was sitting on the cold hardwood floor with my back facing the French doors that lead out to the deck on the rear of my house. It was pitch black outside, obviously in the ungodly hours of the morning, and for some reason, I was awake and reading. Well, reading early in the morning isn’t the weird part; why was I positioned in front of the French doors? On such an uncomfortable floor, too.

These thoughts didn’t faze me nor did they make me change my mind and start me up the stairs to curl up on my comfy bed and read there instead. I simply kept flipping, page after page, as the night wore on, but it didn’t get any lighter outside.

Suddenly there was a boisterous knock and I jumped to my feet in surprise. The handle turned, but didn’t open, as the doors were locked. Whatever it was on the other side really wanted to get into the house, but couldn’t. I took a quick peek out the windows and didn’t find anyone (or anything) although it was dark outside and I wasn’t in my right mind, so what could I have really seen anyway? Without any more thought, I scrambled away and up the stairs, shutting my bedroom door loudly, perhaps to make me feel better and give me a sense of barrier against whatever was outside the house.

Then the dream shifted and it was broad daylight, hot beams of sun shooting through the windows above the sink in the kitchen as I entered it. My brother and mother were sitting at the island situated in the center of the kitchen and I went to sit down.

“You know, I had the weirdest dream last night,” I murmured, balling my hands together on the green countertop. I had gotten their attention and they stared at me curiously, willing me to continue. I recounted reading in front of the French doors and the abrupt, frightening knocking. They laughed and my mother said something along the lines of, “That movie must have had lots of influence on you. It’s kind of creepy.”

It faded out, dissolving into my subconscious, as I came to. Instantly I knew this was reality, but I was left with such a strange feeling. Had someone been in my head? Or was it just the thoughts about Inception infiltrating and seizing my brain while I was slumbering? The former wasn’t possible, of course, but I still felt odd and somehow elated at “experiencing” a dream within a dream. Then I pondered; what would the purpose of the man (or thing) attempting to get into my house be? Had I made the house something like a bank vault or prison and stored it with valuable information? 

I have no idea. But the only thing I really know is this: Leonardo DiCaprio, if you somehow end up in my head, please don’t sic Mal on me, okay?

Lack of Posts.

Yeah, sorry.
Busy.

Although I'll give you something to chew on. It's my writing, but the idea is NOT mine. I just chose the scene of a movie and wrote what happened as a prompt idea that I had. Take a 5-10 minute scene (could be more or less; it's a matter of preference) from a favorite movie that you can readily pause and play, since you'll be doing a LOT of that. Write out the scene using as many details as you can without being over-descriptive and dragging the scene out. The only rules are keep the dialogue intact and don't fudge things too much. Try to get everything into the writing. This is a good thing to do when you've got writer's block and can't think of an idea. Get your artistic juices flowing by drawing from someone else's idea. Or you can do it for fun. I thought it was fun.
Anyway, here it is.
One of my favorite scenes from "Inception."
Enjoi.

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Pristine white rose in hand, Don made his way down the carpeted hallway of the hotel, reading the card he wrote attached to the long-stemmed flower. Slipping the keycard into the door of their suite, he opened it with a whoosh and immediately halted his steps.

The room was trashed.

His eyes scanned all around; lamps shoved to the ground with broken light bulbs scattered on the floor, chairs toppled and torn cushions lay on the off-white carpet like it was a battlefield. He slowly closed the door and realized that the only thing he didn’t see was Mal.

Striding forward slowly, he became wary. His eyes darted around shortly before he heard a snap from underfoot. Glancing downwards, he found that he had stepped right on the neck of a slim wine glass. What he saw next, however, made his heart beat faster.

Mal’s top was on the carpet right next to the glass.

He bent down and picked it up, examining it before slipping it into his pocket and walking forward again. The window was open as far as it would go, looking like monstrous jaws instead of a thing made of wood and glass. The white curtains billowed in the air swirling through it.

He stepped closer, almost afraid of what he’d find.

He leaned down to get a better look outside as he put his hand on the sill. He found Mal sitting on the window ledge of the room parallel to the one he was standing in. She was facing the street.

She had been expecting him.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” He asked, showing no fear in his voice; merely curiosity. “Join me.” Mal replied sweetly. “Just…just step back inside, alright? Just step back inside. Now come on.” His left arm began making a movement akin to the “come here” and “inside” gesticulations.

“No.” Defiance was clear in her tone. “I’m going to jump and you’re coming with me.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order.

“No I'm not. N-now you listen to me: if you jump, you're not gonna wake up, remember? You're gonna die. Now just- just step back inside. Come on; step back inside so we can talk about this.” The level of fear was building rapidly in his heart. She was beginning to terrify him. She was serious.

“We’ve talked enough.” She pointed her foot over the street and let her tall high-heel slip off and plummet to the zooming cars below. He watched it fall, registering how incredibly set on this she was before pinning his eyes to her. “Mal-”

“Come out onto the ledge or I’ll jump right now.”

“Okay.” He said, his eyebrows rising, attempting to stay calm and keep her from jumping. He kept his eyes glued to her as he hoisted himself up to the sill and over the edge until he was sitting as a mirror image of Mal.

“We’re gonna talk about this…right?”

She ignored him. “I’m asking you to take a leap of faith.”

His brows furrowed and arched upwards. “No, honey.” He shook his head slowly. “No, I can't. You know I can't do that.” He continued to watch closely. “Take a second and think about our children. Think about James. Think about Phillipa now.”

She continued to ignore him as if he hadn’t said a word. “If I go without you they’ll take them away anyway."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion now. “What does that mean?”

She looked him dead in the eye. “I filed a letter with our attorney explaining how I’m fearful for my safety…” His heart beat faster and a sick feeling twisted a tight knot in his gut. His head snapped around to glance at the door to the suite. Mal continued. “How you threatened to kill me.”

He slowly turned his head back around, an expression of confusion and disbelief taking over his features. “Why did you do this?” He begged her.

Yet again, she evaded his question. “I love you, Don.”

“Why did you- Why- Why would you do this to me-?” He started to get frantic.

“I’ll free you from the guilt of choosing to leave them. We’re going home, to our real children!” She insisted, so firm on this lie that he began to think he wouldn’t be able to stop her from pursuing it.

“No no no no, Mal, you listen to me, alright. Mal! Look at me! Please-” She had closed her eyes, clearly ignoring what he was saying.

“You’re waiting for a train…”

“Mal! Goddamnit don’t do this!”

“A train that will take you far away…”

“James and Phillipa are waiting for us-!”

“You know where you hope this train will take you…”

“They’re waiting for us!”

“You can't know for sure.”

“Mal! Look at me!”

“But it doesn’t matter…”

“Mal, Godamnit!”

“Because you’ll be together.”

“Mal, listen to me! Sweetheart!”

She gently pushed herself up to her feet.

“Look at me!”

With her eyes still closed, she stepped over the edge.

“Mal, no! Jesus Christ!” His voice broke as he death-gripped the window frame.

Mal was gone.