I have nightmares about Tornados.
I don’t know exactly when it started, but I only know that I’m killed in one every year. I’ve dreamed of dying the same way at least twice per year for twenty years. Some people have told me it’s because of something I’m hiding, a fear I’ve not yet worked up the courage to tackle. Some would consider this nightmare very unsettling, but I’ve accepted it as a normal part of my life.
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Others have told me the nightmares is about something weighing me down, stalking me from the depths of my soul. My uncle told me it might be the loss of my grandmother, which I think is bullshit. Granted, I loved my grandmother more than any person on this earth. And although her recent death troubles me, she plays no part in my visions of dying in an F-5. Even when she was alive, I dreamed of tornados.
It’s the same thing every time: In the nightmare I’m in an old house and walk outside to the front yard. I turn left and see dogs frolicking amongst a massive patch of cacti (go figure on that one). The sky is so black that it looks like ink. I walk back to the porch and sit on the stairs. Suddenly the wind is whipping furiously. The dogs are gone. When I look to the right again, it’s so dark I can’t see anything.
Lightning strikes, and I see the tornado’s funnel, the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. As the light from the lightning disappears, so does the tornado. Then multiple bolts strike the ground. I run inside and slam the door. The nightmares get weird now. Suddenly everything is quiet except for the rumbling of thunder. I go to the nearest window and jerk open the shades – there’s a deep tint of darkness. Well, maybe not a tint. I can’t see the ground or trees or anything else. It all feels gooey and loose, like being underwater at dusk and being sprayed in your face by an escaping octopus. I drop the shades and step back.
The whole house starts shaking. My mom’s expensive vase falls, and then the pictures on the mantle tumble off. I’m in the mix of the nightmare now. Death feels like a beautiful magnet, calling and pulling me, daring me to open the window again. Unable to suppress my curiosity, I open the blinds again.
This time I see the tornado. It looks like a cross between something at the bottom of my tub and something from a distant planet. It’s massive, sucking up trees, houses, and the asphalt from the nearby road. Suddenly a door opens, and the tornado enters. I can’t keep it out, and everything’s confusing. The rain sprinkles my face. It feels cool and terrifying. I look up and the ceiling disappears. I’m in the center of the monster now. There’s no noise, only the destructive force of everything in the room pushing upward. My ears start to pop, and I swallow. I’m floating now. I look down and see my feet leave the floor before hearing the strangest thing – the Smurfs theme song plays repeatedly. I black out. The nightmare ends and I wake up.