Nightmares in Dreamland

By Tony Pellegrino

The book consists of what appears to be fifty-two rather bizarre dreams, but in reality, it is just one nightmare. In his dream, he can be literally anythingfrom a person to an in animate object. He feels he never has control of his destiny, and he is always in the midst of controversy or worse. His only escape from dreamland is to wake up and to put his sleepy experience behind him. He imagines he is being consoled by imaginary dream counselors. Are these people who visit him real or just fragments of his imagination? The reader will find the answer to this question at the conclusion of the book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524536954

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 by Tony Pellegrino.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2016913920

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5245-3697-8

                Softcover        978-1-5245-3696-1

                eBook             978-1-5245-3695-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/01/2016

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CONTENTS

DREAM #1 FLYING

DREAM #2 FIRE

DREAM #3 DEER HUNTING

DREAM #4 PRISON SENTENCE

DREAM #5 THE PITCHER

DREAM #6 THE AUTO

DREAM #7 THE LOVE LETTER

DREAM #8 THE DOLPHIN

DREAM #9 THE LOTTERY TICKET

DREAM #10 THE PLANE

DREAM #11 FLOUR

DREAM #12 THE SNOWMAN

DREAM #13 THE AMUSEMENT RIDE

DREAM #14 THE GUNSLINGER

DREAM #15 THE TREE

DREAM #16 THE AUTHOR

DREAM #17 THE SEA CRUISE

DREAM #18 STEALING YOUTH

DREAM #19 THE LAST TRAIN

DREAM #20 THE CRUSH

DREAM #21 MADLY IN LOVE

DREAM #22 THE NEWSPAPER

DREAM #23 ANIMAL TALK

DREAM #24 BLACK GOLD

DREAM #25 THE VOICE

DREAM #26 THE PORTRAIT

DREAM #27 THE ELF

DREAM #28 THE CAVE

DREAM #29 THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

DREAM #30 THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

DREAM #31 THE VOICE

DREAM #32 THE ESTATE SALE

DREAM #33 THE GHOST

DREAM #34 THE TSUNAMI

DREAM #35 THE BIOGRAPHY

DREAM #36 THE RECRUITING OFFICE

DREAM #37 PEEKING BEYOND

DREAM #38 THE CONDITION

DREAM #39 NAPOLEON’S LAST STAND

DREAM #40 THE REUNION

DREAM #41 AUTOS OF THE FUTURE

DREAM #42 HITCHING A RIDE 107

DREAM #43 THE GRIM REAPER

DREAM #44 THE ANT

DREAM #45 THE PREHISTORIC PARK

DREAM #46 THE WIDOW’S CLUB

DREAM #47 THE DUEL

DREAM #48 THE GARDEN OF EDEN

DREAM #49 THE APPRENTICE MAGICIAN

DREAM #50 KING FOR A DAY

DREAM #51 CHILDREN’S ANIMAL PEN

DREAM #52 THE FORTUNE TELLER 148

Dreams are a fascinating phenomenon. They can visit us when we are awake or asleep. They can be repetitive, pleasant, frightening, fleeting, remembered, or forgotten even before our eyes open after a bout with sleep. There are a variety of dreams that can lead to sleep deprivation, which can, in the long run, be biologically destructive. The latter more destructive type is the kind that invades my personal world. I will try to share a most unbelievable experience I’ve had with the dream world. I can fully understand why you may reject my account of what I am about to disclose to you. My clock strikes 10:30 p.m. It’s getting late, and it’s nearly bedtime.

I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in days. I was lying in bed, just about to doze off, when I felt the presence of someone else in the room. I switched on a rather dim lamp atop of the end table on the side of my bed, and then I saw a short stout man standing perfectly still in the corner of my room. He was dressed in a green suit, wearing a green cap with a feather in it.

Who are you, what are you doing here, and what do you want?

Whoa, one question at a time. Do not be afraid. You have nothing to fear from me. I’ll only be here for a short time. I’ll be gone before you know it. My name is Michael Note, and I am a dream catcher.

What in the world is a dream catcher?

It’s my job to eradicate dreams, to take them away with me to what we refer to as the dream graveyard. It is necessary for this to be done in order to unclutter your brain. If this wasn’t done periodically, after a while, you would not be able to think straight. Because of a glitch in our retrieval system, you’re able to see me. Normally, I do my job without anyone being able to catch sight of me. Most of the time, we can extract the remnants of dreams electronically from your brain. Nowadays, we are very high tech.

Why would any of this be necessary since dreams are generated internally?

Contrary to what your medical scientists believe, it is far from reality. There’s a whole manufacturing process involved in the creation of dreams. It is true that some dreams do arise spontaneously from brain cells, but we are responsible for most of them. We send out high-tech signals that reach brains either through chips or receptors that have been implanted. Your scientists have not yet been able to locate those chips.

Chips?

Yes, chips, you’re familiar with reports by other human beings claiming that they have been abducted, examined, and branded with a chip by aliens. Believe their claims. There true, but we are not as primitive as they claim us to be. Your brain has a receptor much like a radio antenna that picks up radio signals. A particular receptor that we’re concerned with picks up our signals and allows us to create dreams.

But why is so much time and effort put into manufacturing bad dreams? Who is in charge? Who is the chief executive officer of your organization?

We have our reasons for sending out good dreams as well as bad ones. Your scientists probe to get information looking for truth. We operate in theory in a much similar way. Some sacrifices have to be made to find out the answers to our questions. We have a person in charge of making dreams. His name is Henry Fordman.

So it is this man Henry who decides to pick on me and send me a series of bad dreams?

No, that would be the dream planter Jay Farmer who sends you your dreams.

Why are some dreams repetitive?

That’s the fault of the repeat dream guy. He’s sometimes lazy and irresponsible. He forgets to turn off the dream machine, so it keeps sending out the same dream over and over. We’re looking to replace him.

Sometimes I have dreams, but I can’t recall them when I awake in the morning. Why is that?

That’s the work of Jane Memorex. We have as of this date at times not been able to erase some dreams electronically. Jane must visit the dreamer and sprinkle a small amount of a chemical we call absent-minded dust.

Why would you want to erase the memory of a dream?

Because we have retrieved the information we needed from the dream.

Over the last several years, I have had a series of dreams, some pleasant, but far more of them have been very, very unpleasant. They are the kind of dreams that keep me awake and frighten me. The dreams seem real. I can be literally anything from a person to an inanimate object. The worst thing is that I am never in control of the outcomes. I’m always in the midst of controversy or worse. Can you do anything to correct that?

I can’t, but I do know someone who can possibly help you out. The problem is he is unavailable right now. If you have no objection, I’ll speak to him about your case and ask him to pay you a visit when he gets a chance.

I have no objection to your suggestion. I would appreciate anything you can do to help me.

Let me see. You’re 275178810-12.

What do those numbers mean?

These are your ID numbers. That’s how we identify you.

You don’t even call me by name?

That’s not important to us. The first two digits represent your age, the next one the month of your birth, the next two the day of your birth, followed by the year you were born. The last of the numbers indicate the hours of the day when you normally retire. I have to go now, running late. Sweet dreams.

Then he vanished—vanished right into thin air. I was perplexed by the whole situation. Was this but another dream? I can’t truly determine whether or not I was awake and the experience was real or if I was asleep and the little guy was just a figment of my imagination. These days, I hate to go to sleep, but there is no way in the world that I can function without at least trying to do so. The morning will come, and I will feel totally exhausted. I’ll hurry off to work, put in a full day’s work, and I know I have done an inadequate job. I’m ashamed to be paid for such a poor performance, and I believe it’s only a matter of time before my employer asks me to leave. Frustrated, I decide to make an appointment with a sleep apnea clinic.

After I keep a good number of appointments, the good people at the clinic, after studying my data, come up with a one-word answer: weird. They tell me I have a problem. I already know that. Dr. Scully tells me, To be perfectly honest with you, our entire staff has never observed feedback like yours anytime in the past. It may take some time for us to get back to you with a plan we can use to treat your condition. I’m going to share your data we have with a board of sleep apnea experts. Hopefully, the group will be able to interpret the data and collectively come up with a diagnosis. We’ll be in touch with you when we come up with a solution to your problem.

Months elapse. No nighttime visitors show up, but the dreams do. They just keep on coming. I frequently sleep with the lights on these days. What difference does it make? As a matter of fact, I’m beginning to find the light comforting. I turn and twist through the night. On one particular night, I turned from my left side to my right side, opened my eyes, and I saw someone sitting on a side chair, staring inquisitively at me. Although the light was on, the person’s face was hidden by shadows.

Who are you, and what do you want of me?

The dream catcher, Michael Note, asked me to pay you a visit, and the question is not what you can do for me, but what is it that I can do for you? I am your dream man.

I immediately sat up. I rubbed my eyes, hoping that the fellow isn’t an illusion. The dream catcher has kept his word. This guy may be able to help me.

I explained to the dream man that I have had a series of nasty dreams and that they have created a disability in me. I can’t get a good night’s sleep so that I cannot properly function like a normal human being.

Start by telling me about your dreams.

Why do I have to tell you about my dreams? Since you generate them, you must know what they are.

What I want to determine is how you think they affect you. Once I know that, I may be able to help you. Do you understand? Is it a deal? If it is, I’ll just take some notes and number your dreams.

Yes and yes. But how can I be expected to recall the dreams since the catcher has removed many of them?

Your brain is like a computer so that even though the dreams have been removed on a conscious level, the dreams are still stored in the hard drive of your brain. I have the power and know-how to turn your hard drive on, and in anticipation of your problem, I have already turned it on. You should be aware that the dreams may not come to the conscious level in the same order you experience them. Let’s get started with dream number one, shall we?

DREAM #1 FLYING

"As I recall, the dreams all started out innocently enough. Some of the dreams were pleasant and fun. I believe that people who analyze dreams say that flying in dreams represents a very positive and uplifting spiritual feeling. One night, I fell off to sleep, and I felt the urge to fly. If birds can fly, then why can’t I? If I were awake, I could answer that question. I know that anatomically, the structure of a bird is engineered so much differently than a human being’s. That’s why they are able to fly. In my dream, it didn’t seem to make a difference. I didn’t have wings but I had arms and if I flapped them hard enough, I might be able to fly. I find a runway and run as fast as I can and then begin flapping my arms. I am as happy as I can be, but I’m not a bird. The highest I can get off the ground is about three feet, and that is achieved by taking two or three leaps. However, I am not discouraged. I practiced the old adage: if at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. So on the very next night, the basic theme of the dream appears.

Again, fly. This time, as I run down the runway, I begin to take flight. I am certainly more successful than I was on the previous night. I am beginning to make progress on my quest for flight. On the next night, I am filled with confidence. I am running down the runway, flapping my arms once again, and what do you know. I feel I’m taking flight, I’m soaring through the air, and indeed, I was soaring through the air on my way to the floor. I had fallen out of bed. The impact woke me up. As I recalled the dream the next day, I thought it was quite amusing. It was fun. I laughed at myself. But the laughter could not be sustained when the theme of the dreams turned black.

Tell me about one of your dark dreams.

DREAM #2 FIRE

I told you that sometimes I was a thing. I started out like a small quantity of heat inside of a faulty wire. It didn’t take long until I was a spark. I broke through the covering of the wire I was contained in as a very small flame. I started to grow hotter and brighter. I consumed some newspaper and a small curtain, and I began to suck up energy as I consumed fuel. It wasn’t long before I became a full-fledged flame. Now I wanted to consume anything and everything I came into contact with. The couch—I must have the couch. I surrounded it and put it aflame. I see a table and chairs ahead of me, and I charged forward to eat them up. Look, there on the coffee table, there’s a picture of a family: a father, a mother, and children. See how I destroy this memory. See how the figures in the picture shrivel up. The windows are beginning to pop. The paint is peeling from the walls. I see a gas stove in the kitchen, and if I can make my way to it, I can set off a major explosion. My presence has also created a good deal of smoke. What’s that I hear? Why, it’s an alarm that has alerted the fire department and the occupants of the house. I turned my attention to a flight of stairs, and I climbed them to reach the second floor. I can see a woman clutching a small child. They are people, and I must have them. But as I start my approach, I can hear the sound of sirens. The fire trucks have arrived, and the firemen have connected their fire hoses. It now appears to be a race against time. What’s that I feel? It is a cool spray of water. At first, I am stunned, but I resist. Suddenly, I see a firefighter has joined the two people I intend to attack. Once more, there is additional water poured on me. I’m beginning to lose energy. I can no longer advance. The water is killing me. It’s taking away my life. I’m beginning to gasp. I’m dying, and I don’t want to die. A short time later, I have been converted into ash, and I am no more than a smoldering wimp. I am dead. Do you have any idea as to how horrifying it is to die?

It must not have been a pleasant experience for you.

That’s an understatement. If it would have ended there, I would not now be complaining, but the next dream was just as terrifying.

DREAM #3 DEER HUNTING

"This time, I am a beautiful healthy young deer. It is a clear, wonderful day in the forest. Beams of sunlight are finding their way through the openings between the branches of trees. The scene is both majestic and heavenly like. I’m grazing on some tasty food, and I intend to meet up with some of my friends a little later. We plan on playing some reindeer games, and I’m looking forward to our little rendezvous in the woods. Suddenly, I hear a sharp crack. Someone has stepped on a fallen branch. At just about the same moment, something whizzes by me. Why, it’s an arrow that has just missed hitting me. I’m spooked. I have to get out of here in a hurry and before he gets a chance to reload. In a panic, I make a run for it. I’m running as fast as I can. I’m running for my life. I’m beginning to generate loads of perspiration. I’m running so hard I can feel my muscles beginning to ache, but I must not stop. The only chance I have is to outrun my predator. I zigzag and almost lose my footing. I know there is a clearing up ahead, but I’m not sure what to expect when I get there. I make a quick turn to the right, and there, I see one of my friends lying motionless on the forest floor. In fright, I continue to run toward a clearing up ahead, but I hear Debbie, another friend of mine, say, ‘Stop, they are chasing you toward the clearing to kill you. Several hunters with rifles are just waiting for you to come out into the clearing so that they can have a clear shot at you. That’s how they got Jeff, our friend. They shot and wounded him out there, and he was able to make it to this spot where he expired. We had better get out of here. At least one of us may have a chance if we split up. Good luck and I sure hope we will meet again.’

Off I go once more, but I become weary. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, and when I lifted my head, I find myself surrounded by four or five hunters, and each one has a rifle aimed at me. I’m not sure whether these are the same guys who got Jeff or not. I freeze. This, I fear, will be my last day on earth. I see smoke from their guns and projectiles coming directly at me. I scream, and my scream wakes me before the bullets penetrate my body. I have escaped from a sure death, from a nasty dream, only because my reaction to fright was to scream. I sit up in bed, and I am shaking. I refused to return to sleep.

Have you ever a hunted deer?

Yes.

Did you ever consider the feelings of the deer when you pulled the trigger—the fright, the panic?

No.

Do you ever eat deer meat?

Never.

Don’t you find it interesting looking at this episode through two different perspectives?

Yes, but I’ve changed.

How have you changed?

As a result of the deer dream, I don’t hunt anymore, and as a result of the fire dream, I have installed fire detectors. I even made sure that the batteries in those devices are strong.

Why don’t we proceed with still another one of your dreams?

DREAM #4 PRISON SENTENCE

In the dream that I’m about to describe, I am living in another age. More than likely, I’m living in the early 1800s. A nobleman and I are in love with the same girl. She is the beautiful Virginia Way. I have purchased a ring, and I have planned to propose to Virginia. The problem is the nobleman has planned to dispose of his competition: me. He has trumped up a series of criminal charges against me. I am accused of cattle rustling. There is no truth to this charge. There is no proof that I committed the crime, but that doesn’t matter. The nobleman uses his influence to have me found guilty. I’m thrown aboard a prison ship and taken off to a prison island similar to the infamous Devil’s Island. I am assigned to a cell, and I now share my life with real criminals, some of whom are quite dangerous people. There are bank robbers, arsonists, and murderers. Most of the guards are no better than these thugs. What did I do to deserve this? Back home, the nobleman is closing in on making Virginia his wife.

Life on the prison island is a living hell. We are forced to work like slaves. The work starts at dawn and continues way after the sun goes down. We work in the hot sun all day, and by early afternoon, we are completely exhausted. That doesn’t make any difference to the guards. They use belts and whips to convince us to continue to work. There are vicious fistfights among inmates. The guards find the fights amusing, and they usually allow them to proceed until one man is carried off unconscious or even dead. We spend hours and hours harvesting sugarcane. We are given one good meal a day—that is, if you call that slop food. Sometimes we are given stew with meat that is unidentifiable. Hard bread is usually served with a meal. The only day in the year that we are given off is Christmas Day. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into years. I’ve been here for five years now. One of the nicer guards has told one of the prisoners that back home there is a movement to close this place. That prisoner shares this information with the rest of us, and that information gives us hope. Sure enough, the good citizens of my homeland bring enough pressure on our politicians to close this inhuman place. One good day comes when the prisoners are evacuated from this evil place. You can imagine the excitement that was in the air on that particular day. The last ship leaves the island, and the place is completely deserted except for one person left in one locked cell that they neglected to release. It was an unintentional oversight. The person they forgot to take along with them was me. The sun beat down on my cell, baking it until the temperatures rose well into the triple digits. I was not only starving to death, I was dying of thirst. I was experiencing a slow torturous death. I was beginning to hallucinate. I was growing weaker and weaker, and I was only moments away from death when the alarm clock I had set went off. It awakened me and allowed me to escape from another terrifying dream."

You look none the worse from the dream right now. Did you learn anything from the dream?

I learned I must be more diligent in protecting human rights.

Some good did come out of your dream experience then.

"If