Every now and then, my brain decides that what it really needs (when I think I need rest) is a lightning round of nightmares. Last night was one of those nights.
In the first nightmare, I lived in a subdivision on the side of a hill. We were the second house from the bottom on the left and the road led up in a loop through the subdivision. In every house were favored television families from my childhood: the Huxtables from The Cosby Show, the Lubbocks from Just Us Ten, the Bradfords from Eight is Enough, the girls from The Facts of Life, the Winslows from Family Matters, the Keatons from Family Ties, the Tanners (and their 2 uncles) from Full House, the Seavers from Growing Pains, the Bundy's from Married with Children... you get the idea. It was prom night for the oldest teen in each house so they were all dressed up and everyone was taking the prom pictures as the kids were getting ready to head off to the big school dance...but we were in a monster movie. So Carrie was there as well as a herd of zombies and families were having to band together to defeat and avoid some classic monsters. That was the other twist-- everyone had seen the movies these monsters came from, so you had a pretty good chance of defeating them...as long as someone had on hand what you needed. Unfortunately, it also included aliens that melted people leaving nothing but a pile of clothes. So there were clothes of what used to be favored television family members from my childhood all over the place. And then I startled awake. But I wasn't really awake yet. And I headed for the rest room where I almost tripped over a pile of clothes. I picked it up and dropped it into the hamper as I ran into the living room...where my husband was sitting playing on his computer after coming home from the nightshift. I just turned around and went back to bed because I didn't want to tell him I'd been worried he had been melted by aliens.
And promptly went back to sleep where I nightmared that my husband and I were back in high school and we were riding a city bus on a school field trip into a major city from some sort of academic challenge. There were over a hundred buses full of students, but I made sure to get on the same one he was on--but kids had sat in the seats around him and he hadn't been able to save me a seat so I ended up sitting with the goth kids at the back. Once the bus pulled out, you started hearing screaming from other buses. The driver didn't stop. We passed a bus that was suddenly overrun with werewolves. I warded our bus against werewolves. But then suddenly the row in front of my was filled with three vampires that fit in nicely with the goths around me. I realized I probably stood out like a sore thumb in jeans and a t-shirt amongst all that black and pancake makeup. And the lady vampire was trying to get me involved in a conversation. She wanted to know if I'd won my competition, and I said "competitions. yes." but I wasn't really watching her. I was watching my honey as the students who had been around him started to vanish. She leaned in closer to me but I stood up and walked over to the now open seat because I realized the other two vampires were feasting their way through the bus and I didn't want them to eat my husband. As we held hands, there was a flash of sunlight, the sound of hissing as the monster of choice was foiled...
And I was taking the family through an art museum. We'd brought all of our nieces and nephews with us but as we went through, I realized we were like the Munsters family. Ours was full of monsters. One of my nieces was a vampire, which was all fine and good as long as you had snacks on hand or she'd go looking for her own. One of my sons was a zombie, which was largely okay as long as I kept thread and needle on hand to reattach parts as they fell off. My other son was a werewolf, which was okay because it was the middle of the day. We weren't the only largely monster family in attendance, but the more impressive part were the entirely humans. They weren't trying to kill any of us. That was monster discrimination. And if a human was eaten, maimed, or killed, it was a very victim blaming society that they should have recognized the monster they were dealing with. And then everything went slapstick-- the kids scattered as we passed through a revolving door. Trapped between two planes of slowing spinning glass, I could see, but not stop them as they went every which way. Once it revolved and I could walk in, my husband and I split up to gather all the kids. Most of it was uneventful. Several of them were staring at art pieces and commenting that it looked like monsters they knew. But my youngest niece had gone in to play blocks at the daycare, dropping both her favored toy...and her snack...and was in the process of eating the daycare director.
Thankfully at that point, my alarm clock went off and I couldn't be happier to have to get up.