Treasure Trove

I, uh...I had a strange dream last night. That's nothing out of the ordinary, I dream off the wall things quite often. Usually I dream in three act stories, sometimes they're rather frightening, but I don't mind as it serves me well as a writer; or at least it would if I stopped procrastinating and actually picked up the pen.

Anyway, this one was different.

I dreamed that I cut my arm with a knife. Instead of the flow of warm blood expected, money spilled out of the wound. Not dollar bills, but gold coins and jewels, things you think of when someone mentions a treasure chest. It poured like steady fountain, the coins clanking as they collided on the ground. Lots of gold with a few rubies and saphires mixed in.

I tried to stop the bleeding, but the coins persisted. A moment later the skin on my other forearm split like a seam and gold cascaded from the new wound. The treasure collected at my feet. I recall my dreamself being happy that I gained such riches, even though I couldn't stop the bleeding. A miniature mountain of wealth sat before me glittering, whispering promises to make my life better.

My eyes flew open. The cool air from the small plastic fan a little ways away caressed my face. Its soft sound usually lulled me back to sleep almost instantly, but this time I laid wide awake, something I had come to expect after vivid dreams.

For a few minutes I just laid there letting the time on a nearby clock tick away. However two immediate needs motivated me to move from the comfort of my bed.

After a quick trip to the bathroom and downing half a bottle of lukewarm water that sat on my nightstand, I laid back down on the plush mattress. The fan did the favor of cooling off the pillow and sheets during my brief absence. I pulled the comforter over my body despite the warm summer evening. I stared up at the ceiling thinking over the most recent dream.

With a half smile I wondered how bleeding treasure would help me in my current situation. No longer would I have to work two jobs just to make ends meet. I'd finally have time to enjoy life.

Then I thought how eventually the wrong people would become suspicious as I wouldn't bleed anything often used in American currency. The government would wonder where all these gold coins and jewels came from. I shuddered to think of the predicament I'd be in if the wrong people found out I was a literal cash cow.

What's worse, what if my secret eventually leaked. I doubt two days would pass before paranoia consumed me with the threat of being stabbed at any moment by someone desperate for cash, or even someone who's greed overrode their morality.

My stomach churned at the idea of someone sneaking into my room while I slept and kidnapped me where I'd spend the rest of my life bled for money. A fool would bleed me dry, but a clever someone would make the flow last, bandage the cut before I passed and wait a day or two more to repeat the process. Slowly draining as another's treasure trove. Anyone who might come looking for me would be easily bribed and I'd forever remain a mystery.

Not exactly a nightmare, and the situation absolutely impossible, but my own thoughts made it impossible for me to find sleep for the rest of the night.