A Student’s Worst Nightmare

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As you may or may not know (or have guessed by now) I am a student. And as a student, I have a very special set of triggers that set off fears and anxiety while I’m sleeping.

Apparently those fears involve running out of contact solution, and I couldn’t get back to sleep unless I checked that I had enough solution to wear my contacts for another day.

Not the $500+ speeding ticket that was so graciously bestowed upon me on my way to spring break, or even my normal fears of (very VERY vivid) spiders crawling on the walls.

My eyesight and ability to see a whiteboard is the most important thing to me right now. If I have to use my glasses, two things will happen:

(1) my field of vision will be reduced to a visual angle of approximately 1 degree and

(2) my too-long eyelashes will deposit mascara film all over my lenses, ruining the said 1 degree of visual angle.

These could mean failure. FAILURE I TELL YOU (or I’ll miss a few points from the powerpoints).

However, while my sleeping mind (she should have a name by now, shouldn’t she?) was wise in making sure I had enough contact solution, she forgot the one thing more important than my vision.

MY SLEEP.

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Recurring Dreams

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I’ve always thought the phenomenon of recurring dreams was odd. How is it possible to have a dream that comes back tie and time again? Or are most of our dreams recurring, but we only remember a certain one happening all the time?

I won’t answer those questions. Instead, I will tell you a yarn of a little girl and her greatest fear.

The dream began on a normal night, as I ate dinner with my family in our apartment behind our house. The city was quiet and dark, yet peaceful. We finished dinner, and as the night grew deeper, my parents tucked me and my brothers into bed. I fell asleep quickly, happy with my life and my family.

I woke up soon afterwards with a strange feeling in my gut. I instantly knew something was wrong. I lept out of bed, and ran around the house looking for my dear family, which was nowhere to be found. I looked throughout the apartment and in every room and under every crevice. No one. My dad, mom, and two brothers were gone without a trace.

Why did they leave? More importantly, why did they leave me? Who do I turn to?

As I left the apartment, there was an even more horrifying discovery: There was no one at all in the entire city. No matter where Ii looked or which alleyway I peeked into, there was absolutely no one that I could find. The streets were empty. The buildings were empty. The shops were empty.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

I slowly turned around. I didn’t want to know what was behind me, but I needed to look. There was an enormous monster, several stories tall, with sanguine eyes and teeth like my mother’s kitchen knives. It was dark, so I didn’t see what color it was, but I didn’t need to. You know Godzilla when you see him (at least in a dream).

And so Godzilla begins to chase me down the dark and empty streets, and there is no one to help me but myself.

That my friends, is where the dream ends. I used to have this dream on about a yearly basis from the time I was 6 to about the time I was 12. The funny thing was, Godzilla wasn’t the scariest part of the dream; being alone was. Despite my extremely shy nature as a kid, I would hate being completely alone without anyone in the world. Even to this day,¬†the¬†thought of being alone on this planet is frightening (and is the reason I hate watching I Am Legend).

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Special thanks to Ian Johnson for the illustration, and all the previous illustrations for that matter!