Day 38: Dreams

Day 38.  My generous friend who bought screenwriter Monica lunch at the Four Seasons the other day has just brutally murdered the young guy I’ve got in mind to play one of the leads in the screenplay that she just delivered.  I’m not sure the type of weapon he’s used—gun, knife, sledgehammer—but he’s made quite a bloody mess.  To make matters worse, the world is apocalyptically ending and I’m trapped in a mansion with an angry mob of college kids turned zombies trying to get in and eat us.  For some reason I’m not upset about generous friend killing young guy.  Maybe young guy had turned zombie?  Or, I know I’ll just recast?  Or, more likely, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.  The zombie college kids are breaking through the doors and windows of the mansion!  Instead of getting the hell out of there, I feel I can’t leave until I’ve cleaned up all the blood and washed generous friend’s khakis so he has something nice to wear for our escape.

Blood is everywhere.  And in the kitchen no less!  It’s such a mess.  I get down on my hands and knees to clean the tile and cabinets despite the fact that I’m wearing an evening gown and I’m barefoot.  I use sponge after sponge, paper towel after paper towel.  Finally, I’m satisfied it’s thoroughly clean.  I can go now.  I rinse the blood out from the last sponge and turn from the mansion’s industrial size kitchen sink to see that my generous friend is almost out the door.  He yells back, “hurry up, we gotta get out of here!”  “Okay, okay, I’m coming!”  I go to run but my body barely moves.  It’s like I’m under water.  I stress about finding the right pair of heels to match my gown.  And I’d like to get my tooth in before I run away.  In slow motion, I desperately search for the necessary accouterments.  I make my way into a stunning bathroom.  It’s right out of Architectural Digest.  I stop and dreamily think, “I’d really like to have this bathroom someday.”  But my fancy lavatory hopes are quickly dashed when I come face to face with a dark haired, glasses wearing, college kid zombie nerd.  I try to act nonchalant as I scan the room for footwear and my stayplate, like, “don’t mind me, zombie nerd, I’ll be out of your way momentarily.”  I sneak a peak at him.  He’s staring at me like I’m lunch.  He instantly comes at me.  I scream.  Finally, everything goes into fast motion.  I can move freely!  I spy a pair of flip-flops.  Fine, I’ll make them work.  I slip them on and see my tooth on the edge of the tub at the same time.  I snap it in and run like hell, the college kid zombie nerd nipping at my heels.

What's in a dream?

I rush out of the mansion to find myself standing on a New York City side street off of Time’s Square.  College kid zombies are everywhere.  They’re doing serious property damage—tearing up cars, throwing trashcans and in general, behaving badly.  My eyes frantically search for generous friend and his getaway car.  He’s nowhere to be found.  The college kid zombies notice me and head my way.  Shit!  I take off running, which isn’t that easy in an evening gown and flip-flops.  I run for my life until I’m suddenly on a remote dirt road with rolling green hills on either side.  It’s beautiful.  There’s a few zombies milling about but they don’t seem that hungry.  I stop and ask one for directions.  He’s surprisingly quite nice.  I glance down the hill and see a swarm of college zombie kids making their way up to me.  They look like they’re starved.  I’m still not safe.  I magically pull out my cell phone from the back of my evening gown.  My fingers turn fat and slip into slow motion as they try and find generous friend’s number.  I keep hitting the wrong name!  My panic and frustration build.  But I keep at it.  I refuse to give up and let the zombies kill me.  I keep trying to get my funky fingers to tap the right letter to pull up his number.  I strain.  I focus.  I pray.  There!  I did it!  It’s ringing.  “Pick up, pick up, pick up!”  It keeps ringing.  Just when I think it’s going to go to voice mail, generous friend answers.  “Where are you?” he calmly asks.  “I’m on the hill,” I scream, “The zombies are coming!”  “Don’t worry, I’m coming to get you.”

I wake up.  Surprisingly, I’m not anxiety ridden or disturbed.  I’m oddly refreshed and confident generous friend (and everyone in my life) has my back.  I feel safe.  I’m ready to conquer the day and any zombies who might come my way.

Until tomorrow, create from what you have…your dreams.

Kelli Joan Bennett is a filmmaker, actress, writer, entrepreneur, advocate for creative thinking and Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Think Outside The Box Inside The Box Media.

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