So last night I had a short little dream. There was this long passageway where people were lined up for something. I was there to give someone a message that was written on a scrap of paper. The line was too long for me to see what was at the end but it moved slowly forward.
When I got closer I saw that at the end of the tunnel was a giant brown scorpion. I saw the person at the front of the line approach it and it stung him in the middle of the forehead. I was asked the man in front of me what was going on and he told me that the sting will take away your identity. I asked him why he would want to do this and he told me it was to start fresh. I asked him his name and he told me that it was Steven, but that it would no longer exist in a few moments.
Steven got to the front of the line and the scorpion stung him on the forehead. When he turned around his face was scaled with blue and black veins that were swollen and bruised. I asked him if it hurt and he smiled at me and replied that he felt ‘nothing’.
Once he vanished I quickly told the scorpion that I was not there to be stung, but to deliver a message. He asked me what the message was so I showed him the paper in my hand. I asked him if he wanted me to read it aloud since he didn’t have hands, but he told me that that was not necessary. I looked down and saw that the message had vanished from my hands. Then I woke up and checked my bed for scorpions.

Weird, right?

I was living in this really awful apartment in a different city. Everything was made of concrete and really cold. I was standing in the kitchen unpacking silverware when it suddenly occurred to me that something wasn't right. Why was I here? And where was here, for that matter?

I tried to find a way out of the apartment but there were no doors anywhere! The apartment had just the kitchen and the living room that had a couch in it and that was it. No windows, air vents, or anything that led to the outside of wherever I was.

It got very cold and I realized that I was wearing my pajamas. Then suddenly there was something like an angry wind that blew me into the wall, hard. I got to my feet and ran into the kitchen. Suddenly there was a disembodied voice that seemed like it was coming from everywhere and no where. It asked me to tell it who someone was.

Of course I have no idea what it was talking about and I told it so. Something pushed me up against the wall and slid my head into the ceiling. I was dazed for a moment. The voiced told me to tell it who this person was again, and then dropped me to the floor. I got really angry and yelled for it to stop! I told it that I didn't know what it was talking about so how could I answer it? And even if I did, I wouldn't tell it anything.

It threw me across the room and I hit my side against the counter. I crouched down in pain and asked it why it was doing this. I went through everyone I knew in my head trying to think of who it was talking about. The drawers in the kitchen flew open and these huge knifes flew at me fast. I dodged the first one but the second swiped across my hand and I screamed.
I kept going through people in my head: friends, relatives, co-workers, people that I had met on the street, when I finally got to my best friend's older sister…. Everything stopped. It laughed and thanked me for the information.
I hadn't said anything aloud, but I guess it had read my thoughts. I looked down and my hand was bleeding profusely.

I woke up and clutched my hand that was still hurting! When I turned on my lamp to look at my hand I was really surprised to see that it was fine. As soon as I saw this the pain vanished.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

I’m walking down a paved road on a desert highway dressed in a blue cotton blouse and a knee- length white skirt. On my back is a pack that seemed to be full, but not too heavy. I eventually reached a town and walked right through it without stopping. I thought it was strange that I felt so light on my feet, but it never occurred to me that I was dreaming. I never even wondered where I was traveling to.
As soon as I entered the next town I was hit with a crippling bout of hunger. I stopped in front street vendor who was selling apples, and frantically dug through my pack. I looked in my shoes and bra but couldn’t find even a penny. The hunger was almost unbearable and I was sure that I would not be able to continue on without food.
The only option I had left was to try and trade something. I looked up and down the street for a vendor that was selling something else, but apples seemed to be my only option. I have always had a great dislike for the taste of apples, and here I was about to beg for one!
When I approached the vendor I had a moment of recognition, but could not think of where I had seen him before. He was tall with light brown hair and clear, mocking, blue eyes. He was smiling as I approached his cart. I told him that I didn’t have any money, and asked him if I could maybe trade something for an apple. He laughed and said that he would be willing to trade. I went through my things and he rejected them all. I asked him what he would take, and he looked me up down and smiled. My shoes for three apples.
I hated the idea of handing over my comfortable boots for two dollars worth of apples, but the hunger was consuming me more and more. I reluctantly made the trade and continued on my way in my socks.
I ate the apples while I walked and was pleased that they vanquished my hunger completely. On a whim I put the apple cores in the pocket of my back pack. The road that had once been paved progressively became more and more rural until it was nothing but packed dirt and sharp rocks.
My socks did little to protect my feet as I slowly walked down the path, and were soon soaked in blood. I stopped walking and sat down on a small grassy patch that I spotted from the road. My black socks peeled off of my feet when I removed them, and were dark with my blood.
I laid down on the grass to rest while I thought of what I could do, but the sun had reached its peak and it quickly became unbearably hot. I looked around for shade but the dusty, flat, plane had no trees.
Then, as if he had been sitting next to me the entire time, I turn to see the apple vendor. He smiled at me in that mocking way, and asked me how the journey was going. It was then that I remembered him as the sandy haired boy that had been in the background of many of my dreams. In all of them he had helped me in some way or another. Filled with a new found hope; I asked him if I could have my shoes back.
He shook his head told me that he couldn’t trade back because I had already eaten the apples. I pulled out the cores from my pack and wondered if it had really been a good trade. I sighed and asked him what I suppose to do. If I waited here I would pass out from the heat, If I kept walking I would damage my feet even further, and if I had not trade my shoes for the apples I might have starved.
He took the apple cores from me and began to wipe the blood from my feet with them. Then one by one he pressed them into the ground behind us. A great apple tree sprouted from the ground and covered the grassy patch with shade. He reached up and plucked some green leaves from the branch above his head, and handed them down to me. He smiled and told me to make new shoes from them.
I woke up