Forest Island Dark premonition

            Rain lashed against the land as thunder boomed in the sky. A giant, rounded hulking shadow reached out for Nathaniel. Nathaniel fired arrows into the giant beast but nothing could slay the creature. The giant shadow monster was fifteen feet tall, ten feet wide with large stumpy legs and long arms, powerfully strong hands and stumpy fingers. This shadowman was almost entirely without feature, like the rest of the shadows, except this shadow had a large gaping mouth where a face should be. The mouth was filled with multiple rows of teeth and a large, human like tongue. Nathaniel screamed as he was lifted into the air. Thunder cracked the sky and lighting struck the ground. The booming storm drowned out the cries for help. All of the Bear Forces had been carried through the portal and Pubbles the bear was missing.

            Nathaniel struggled against the mighty grip of the beast as he was lifted helplessly into the air. He could only watch in horror as he was brought closer to the gaping open mouth. The giant shadow creature stuffed Nathaniel into its mouth and bit down. A bolt of lighting struck the ground and the booms drowned out the screams. Then only silence remained. The creature lumbered back into the dark portal, which was now a twenty-foot tall portal. The portal closed, the Forest Island was lost.

            Nathaniel awoke from his nightmare, drenched in sweat. The fourth night had arrived and it had been raining all day. Nathaniel was shaking as he stood. The dream felt real and he worried that it was a vision of the future. He knew he couldn’t tell anyone of his dream or he would risk demoralizing his troops.

            As Nathaniel shook the nightmare from his thoughts, a soldier appeared in the doorway to his room. “Es’cuse me sir” said a female soldier. She had red hair, was dressed in her full armor and was equipped with a mace and shield. “It’s night and the men are anxious to march” Reported the mace wielding soldier. Nathaniel had slept later than he wanted. He nodded to the soldier then hastily prepared for battle.

            Nathaniel grabbed a piece of bread with honey on it as he ran toward his group of soldiers awaiting his arrival. Nathaniel ate his meager breakfast as he ran. Pubbles the bear met Nathaniel and the two of them made their to the group.

            The group cheered when they saw their leader finally arrive. “Alright soldiers, are you ready to spend another night saving the village?” Nathaniel shouted with a smile. The soldiers cheered. Moral was high and Nathaniel hoped their enthusiasm would distract him from his lingering thoughts of his nightmare.

            The Bear forces arrived just as the portal was opening. The portal didn’t look any bigger than normal which made Nathaniel feel calmer. Soon, shadowmen poured out of the shimmering purple portal. These shadowmen were slightly larger than normal, just under five feet tall, they could strike with harder force and didn’t always die in one strike. The Bear forces engaged the enemy head on. The first wave of shadowmen crashed against the shields of the frontline knights then broke like waves on rocks against the weapons and strength the of Bear lord forces.

            Pubbles the bear launched into the group of shadowmen and began mauling anyone in sight. The roar of the bear mixed with the loud thumping sound of the bear’s powerful claws against the heads of the shadowmen. The group of shadows that surrounded Pubbles was dispatched in minutes.

            Nathaniel fired his arrows with precision and speed. As he picked off the shadow creatures he thought about how all of this fighting would improve his skills as an archer and a fighter in general. A shadowman snuck up on Nathaniel and grabbed his bow, but before the shadow could make off with the champion’s bow, The Bear lord moved like lighting and grabbed a dagger from his boot then plunged it into the shadowman’s head.

            The bow dropped to the floor and Nathaniel retrieved it. He took several steps back to avoid another flanking attempt.

            The fourth night went smoothly enough. Only a dagger and a pair of boots were stolen that night. Sir Richard the knight killed twenty shadowmen in one night and the mace wielding soldier from earlier that day had hit a shadowman so hard that it flew several feet and slammed into a second shadowman, killing both.

            The moral of the men stayed high, they felt strong and capable and knew that reinforcements were on their way. That sentiment was reinforced when the Bear Lord’s scout returned early and confirmed that the Stag lord and the Dog lord were marching on their way to the portal to put a final stop to these shadow beasts. They would arrive on the sixth night and would bring the full force and fury of the Forest King’s army.

When I dream

When I sleep I rarely dream at all,

But when I dream, I dream of Fall.

            February was almost over but the winter hung around like an annoying party guest that won’t go home. The cold was getting to everyone and while some dreamed of spring or summer, I dreamed of fall.

            Soft sunlight shined down through the golden leaves of a tall tree, it warmed my skin and eased my sore muscles. The winter had melted away and gave into Autumn scenery. I was transported back to a place from my memory, an old familiar home, a home where I spent some of my best Autumn days. The air smelled like baked goods and wood smoke and the trees where brightly colored with red, orange and yellow.

            Good times returned to my life, trips to the cider mill, relaxing drives down country roads, quality time with old friends, delicious foods, pizza burps, goofing off and spending more time outside. All of these things were ahead of me, the better parts of life were right around the corner and I couldn’t wait.

            I felt at peace again for the first time in a long time, my mind didn’t even question how it had gone from winter to autumn, I just enjoyed every second that I could.

            I woke up from my Autumn dream and it was still February, the weather was still frigid and a sharp pain stung in the back of my head. I had awoken with a migraine that felt like someone drove a wood screw into the base of my skull, I stood up and felt dizzy, I ran to the bathroom and threw up. February was and will always be the worst time of the year, but the Fall will return and in the meantime, I suppose spring isn’t so bad either.

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Have some coffee or tea and stay warm everyone  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwRBcNReYTw

Where do your Dreams go?

            Where do your dreams go when you die?

I have never been one to fear death. I’ve led a life of hardships and pain, both physical and emotional. My life has not been all bad but my worst experiences could be written and sold as horror stories. When nightmares consume your childhood what is so fearsome about death? Nothing. Death scares the young and the healthy. People have their reasons why they want to live but the real reason is primitive survival. The human brain in all of its complexity still operates from basic desires. A human wants to live so that it can reproduce and make more humans. All species need this urge to survive. Growing up sick and in pain alters your brain. Its natures way of saying “You wont reproduce so death is ok. You are allowed to die” This might sound cruel but anyone who has seen a nature documentary will know its true. Nature effects humans just the same as it effects animals.

            I am now afraid to die and strive to live. One day I found a light in the darkness. It was a boundless imagination that led me to my love of fantasy. I played in the fictional worlds of others. Humans created video games and books, they used their brains for something more than basic desires. They created these worlds and I was lost and entranced. In these worlds the hero won, the darkness could be fought and if you believe hard enough nothing can stop you. Memories of life funneled through creative process and turned into dreams. The Dreams written down and turned into fiction and the fiction sold and consumed. Once consumed the fiction is released back into dreams and stimulates the mind. The mind then begins to create its own dreams and its own fiction. What if that tree was sixty feet tall and contained an entire village of elves? Its not sixty feet tall and only birds live in it, but what if? What if the world was a better and more magical place? What if people got along? What if trying your best actually made a difference? The thoughts in your brain turn and focus. Your experiences color both your fantasy and reality. How you perceive people depends on how you were raised just like if I told you to imagine a drugtor you might think of something totally different than someone else. Others may just realize Drugtor is a word I just made up and not bother imagining anything.

            So where DO dreams go when you die? And why does my ability to imagine a dragtor make me want to live?

            Well I honestly do not know where dreams go and that is why I fear death. In my head I have my memories, story ideas, characters, dreams, goals and a whole library of random animal trivia. Its precious to me, I can recall times that I spent with my friends or family, moments long since passed that my brain keeps preserved for as long as I live. Happy moments and memories that make me smile to this day. I can create fictional worlds and characters in a day, I can imagine those places and if I close my eyes I can see every single place I have ever written about. I fear death because when a person dies, what happens to those precious memories and all of the stories they haven’t written yet? My fear is that they simply go away forever.

            Great authors through the ages wrote stories that are still read and enjoyed hundreds of years later, but what happened to the stories they didn’t write? All of the possible life they could have breathed into the world is now gone. All that remains is their stories, echoes of a mind that could create anything out of nothing.

            I do not fear not existing, not breeding, not being able to eat hamburgers, I fear not being able to tell stories.

            So what if I had to answer to my own question? What if I just wrote a happy ending? What if?

            When you die your dreams live on with you. The stories you wrote continue to entertain the living but all of the worlds you create in your head, the characters that are all secretly part of your own personality, your dreams, your wishes and all of the memories you hold so dear from your life, they go with you. They all travel with you to the next world.  a world of peace and happiness and a world where the heroes won, the darkness could be fought and if you believe hard enough nothing can stop you.

Joseph Stephens and the Dream Sheep

            Little fluffy white sheep bounce through the endless night sky. These small creatures are beings from another world, sent to earth by the sandman to help people sleep and dream.

            Only a foot tall and more fluffy wool than a body, with small round eyes, little stubby legs and round purple horns. These little critters jump over houses as magical sleeping dust falls over a family. For those with trouble sleeping the dream sheep sneak into the house through windows that they pry open with an adorable purple crowbar and the sheep jump over the person until they fall asleep. This is why people say counting sheep helps you go to sleep.

            Off you go to a magical world were anything is possible. While your brain files away all of the new information you gathered from the day you get to experience imaginary worlds with untold wonders and the scariest pits of your own imagination.

            Every night so many people get to drift off into a restful slumber, a sleep that rejuvenates the body and the soul. These people get to dream of wonderful places, floating cloud cities surrounded by sparkling stars too beautiful for words. They get to superheroes and stand up to the troubles of their day.

Some do not dream and that is all right too. resting your weary head down on a soft pillow, closing your eyes and letting hours go by in a blink of an eye. Hours pass and it is time to get back to your life. The morning awaits and you face the challenges of the day with restored vigor.

            This is the case for many people. Unfortunately for Joseph Stephens his dream sheep are heroin addicts. So he spends his nights awake, his mornings asleep and his afternoons feeling groggy and slow.

            So have a good night boys and girls and remember, if you can’t sleep, maybe your dream sheep are addicted to illegal drugs.