Very Sweet Dreams

I’m really not stupid. I’m not telling you my real fucking name. You can call me Freddy for reasons which should become all too apparent shortly. I’m not a serial killer. I’m not like those guys. I’m a normal person. I pay my taxes, drink the occasional beer, find golf incredibly boring, can’t afford nice things and even share memes on Facebook. I don’t stand over my victim’s bloodied corpse with a knife or squeeze my hands around their throat. I don’t lure innocent young women into the back of my big white van. No I’m much more discreet than that. I’m a dreamer. It all started off back when I was maybe fifteen. My grandmother was what you might call a hoarder. Anything you might have need of she would have sitting in inch thick dust somewhere in her home. Anyway I found the book when I was helping my uncle move a table for her. It was called Envision and was all about dreams, hypnosis, psychic energy, auras etc.

A section I took particular interest in was entitled Lucid Dreaming: Your Inner Self Set Free. It was a fairly straightforward. It described the act of lucid dreaming which was to dream and to be both aware and in control of the dream. It also had a list of mental instructions to encourage successful lucid dreaming. I was always curious kid so I memorized the list and set to work trying to lucid dream. It took me a week but eventually I would be able to go to this beautiful boat on the ocean and just sail for hours and hours every night. It was wonderful.

Then I started dreaming about girls and their bodies and I would more often than not find my dream self floating above their beds like a horny ghost. It was funny, the book had said I could control my dream reality but no matter how hard I thought the clothes stayed on and they stayed asleep and passive as I leered at them. It wasn’t until I will my hands to grab Stacy from church that things started to change. She woke up but was not nearly as happy to see me as I would have intended. She started to scream. I covered her mouth. She fought back. I tried to hold her still. There was a snapping sound and she was still. This was not how I had wanted things to go but it felt so good. I willed myself to wake up. I was in bed, covered in sweat, and very very hard. I found out about her death on the news two days later.

I stopped lucid dreaming for a long while awhile after that. I got a girlfriend and tried to put the memory behind me. She broke up with me two years later. She said it was because she needed to and I quote “date herself”. A month after that I found out herself was a guy who called himself Chief and smelled like ass and weed all the time. I skipped school and work that day,stayed home and rested. They were found so brutally destroyed that even their families couldn’t identify them.

I don’t just use the dream power or whatever you’d call it for killing. I’ve attended rock concerts floating invisibly in the air. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon. I tried to go to space once but for some reason I ended up at a reststop in Georgia. Killing isn’t who I am. It’s just an occasional hobby. I don’t even do it that often. It’s been maybe a year now since I last had any of my crazy fun. Anyway I know I’m not the most interesting person in the world and let’s face it you probably don’t believe a word of this. Well that makes you spending your time hearing me out all the more meaningful. I think I’ll try dreaming about you tonight and see what happens.