Planet Irk

I got dozz nibbles man

This guy.

Ok, so I’m now willing to talk about this guy I keep seeing in my dreams. DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT TOO, it’s not really for you anyway.

   It all started around a week ago; The dream began with me standing in the corner of my room next to my mirror. Just watching a guy from the back, perched contently along my window sill. He seemed to be staring directly towards the moon as it beamed through the trees and onto his face. I noticed that he wore a ruffled and ripped denim jacket with matching bottoms- both covered in patchwork symbols. He lingered with him a piercing smell of old washing and mould as well as having horribly dyed orange, mid-long, greasy hair and bandage plasters around the fingers on his left hand- Of which showed to be griped tightly along the border of the window frame.

   The guy showed no harm to me, and just sat entranced in thought within my room. As I began to watch more closely, I witnessed him suddenly moved his head to face the floor of my two story house and then leap towards it. With such sense of reaction, I somehow found my self appear next to him on the ground. The blood forming around him made me realize that this guy was obviously dead. As I could see now, that he had fallen to his side, I was able to discover more areas of his appearance. I then found that he was wearing very unusually patterned dark brown cowboy boots with studded collars, very uniquely shaped. Peering in to his face, I saw no known resemblance to anyone I could recognize- although how could I? This guys face showed to be half covered in day-old vomit. The only areas I seemed to be able to distinguish was just one blue eye- the left, indulged with blood red veins. I noticed however, how his mouth was portrayed in such a way that it seemed he had previously attempted to tie one side of his cheek up, perhaps sow with an old piece of cream rope or ribbon. I was unable to get a good look at the other side as it seemed to have been swamped in such a great amount of dried vomit.

   Knowing this, I became freaked out within my dream and suddenly awoke. I say there for a few minutes trying to work out what I had just dreamt of after a while began to think nothing much of it. As I did recognized it as only a dream, which then I fell back to sleep. To only dream of kittens eating lolly-pops in a near-by camp site. (I’m not quite sure why ha-ha).

    The next night, as I lay in bed, I began to slowly slip back into the same dream once again. However! This time it did not start with the guy sitting collectively among my window pane, but actually a few minutes before he made that move. I this time, was sat in my own bed, watching as the same guy- in the same clothes, with the same vomit smothered face and expression, approach the window through my bedroom door.

As he stepped upon my matrass, I could even feel the pressure causing the bed to slightly dip in weight. Just before attempting to apply himself to the frame of the window, he took a glance at me- still lying there, staring from my bed- and tried to smile, but sort of ended up looking quite… insecure, or maybe ashamed instead. Being within a dream, playing myself I’m not sure what I did back, however he continued to sit upon the edge and look to the sky. At this point, I woke again… Or so I thought.

  I sat up in my bed, more than just a little spun out this time and sort of just froze in confusion. All I could think was, why I could see this guy and why exactly am I seeing him commit his own murder? What was with all that sick? Broken from my stare into nothingness, I crept out of bed and walked along my landing and into the bathroom. Everything seemed completely normal. No difference in items, the same clothes as I went to bed in, I could even still hear my dad faffing about in his bedroom next door. Everything seemed as if it was fine. But yet, It was not.

  On my way back to my bedroom, I glanced a figure walking up the stairs directly right of me. I turned my head to see the guy walking in time to my own foot steps. Terrified, I froze. Staring at him with eyes locked. All his features seemed so real. As if he was really there, in my house, on my stairs. Actually there looking at me. I had no idea what to do, and so I just took one shuffle towards my bedroom.
  As soon as I did, the guy ran as fast as I could believe, through my door, upon my bed and dived straight out of my bedroom window. Leaving nothing but the sound of his sprinting footsteps and my frightened panic behind.

   Instantly after, I awoke properly again. (I made sure of it)

   Laying there in bed, completely startled and too scared to move I was in disbelieve of why this guy was invading my dreams. After a long while of staring at my wall, I eventually decided to put on a few episodes of ‘Dark Place’ to change my mood. Keeping my mind well away from the apparent nightmare I had just witnessed.

   After a good 45 minutes, I was tiered enough to consider getting some more rest.

   Once again, as soon as I fell asleep, I saw the guy again. Me lying in the same place, watching the guy sit on my window sill. Looking to the moon for a few moments, and then falling to the ground.

   The same thing happened the next night.

And the next night.

And the next night.

Until after a few days, I believed to have even seen him in other dreams.

Just sat there. Sometimes not even on the window. Just slouching on something. Whether it’s a table, or on the floor. Or even leaning on the wall. I swear I can just see this guy hanging around me.

   I have no idea why. There is not resemblance to any past presences in this house, or even in the area. No films or cartoons I have recently watched in which I could associate him with. Not even a talk of such ‘punk-like’ figures. He has literally just popped up from no where. Not endangering me. He doesn’t frighten me in such a way I feel threatened or worried. He’s just there, as if to bug me. I’d try and help him out if there was something wrong but he doesn’t seem to want to respond.

  I don’t mind him being around, he seems quite a cool chap. It may just be my imagination telling me not to do drugs otherwise I could o/d like him but, I’m not sure. He’s just there.

  I hope we become friends, I’d love this Freddy Krueger shit to work out. (minus the killing). But gee, I must have some fucked up mind to keep seeing this guy pop up all the time.

There we are anywho, you didn’t have to read all of that. I just sort of wanted to write it for myself, so that if he does go away at some point. I’d still remember what he looks like- Just in case I ever need a wicked story character.

   Freaky shit though, right? I guess I’m off to sleep again. I hope he says hi this time.