Last night amid a few twisted stories, one dream stood out from the bunch. I was walking back to my apartment and made it to the front door when a stalker appeared from nowhere and starting trying to attack me. I tried as hard as I possibly could to get inside and lock, then deadbolt, the door, but in dream-time my movements were slower than a stoned tortoise. I could not keep the stalker out no matter how hard I tried and he successfully busted down the door, even though I managed to secure the first lock. He powered through and barreled toward with fury and misplaced rage.
I don’t know why this person was stalking me or when it started, but here he was; ready to attack. He came at me so quick I barely had time to react. In my dream, I don’t remember if I screamed or not but, like an angel, my roommate appeared and wasted no time attempting to rescue me. She ran to get a neighbor who came in and grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer. I managed to push the perpetrator off of me long enough for our neighbor to slit the intruder’s throat – all the while, the stalker is mocking our neighbor saying “you won’t do it, you don’t have the balls.” Well, he did it and I watched him bleed out on our kitchen floor.
While this happened, my roommate had also already called the cops but our apartment management team got there first. The room began to ease as things started to turn around. NOT. The stalker WOULD NOT DIE. He came at me again with as much force as before, despite the blood gushing from his jugular. Terrified, mystified, and confused I searched for help but my roommate and neighbor were nowhere to be found and everyone else vanished unexplainably.
By this time, I knew I was going to die, I was not strong enough to keep him off of me. Until, just at the last minute, cops arrived and shot him in the back. End of story, right?
The cops, who left thinking they killed the guy (and I guess assumed I would clean up his body…?) left too soon. He managed to escape death yet again, and assured me he would come back for me and finish the job. He left my apartment and ran into a unit two doors down. Wounded, but still very much alive.
At this point, I was unravelling. I locked the doors and windows, pulling down all the shades, but I wasn’t fast enough. Before I could secure the premise, he was back; this time with backup. His followers smashed my windows and he lunged at my, now open, door (how the fuck it opened, I will never know – it was a dream). He put a steering wheel lock (?) on the door knob so I wouldn’t be able to close it; leaving me utterly defenseless (apparently dream Haylee is a giant pussy).
In my amplified dream state, I was now packing a suitcase preparing to flee (flight over fight) but I couldn’t decide what to pack; and on top of that, I couldn’t zip my suitcase closed. So, by the time I was ready to run, the stalker had returned for his third and final time.
At this point, the dream turns into a panic-induced haze. All I remember is the stalker plunging for my neck, I vaguely remember him making contact, but I can’t be sure. Death is imminent; I assume for me and the stalker, but I will never know…
I woke moments later. Too afraid to open my eyes, too afraid to move; paralyzed in a seemingly permanent state of dream terror.