Colors

Aug. 14th, 2005 08:36 am
tania: (Road to El Dorado - Tulio: Thinking)
I slept for twelve hours last night - went to bed for a 'nap' at 7:30pm, and didn't wake up 'til 7:30am. o_O

I could have done without the dreams, though. In one of them, I went back to visit Disney but I was too late to see my friends; the place was empty of people, just a few sad desks and half-assembled cubicles standing in this great, dark, abandoned room. Aaron Stannard, the guy who trained me, was still there, and something about him seemed broken inside. And if you knew Aaron Stannard, you'd know how awful it was to see that. In the dream, he and I tried one last-ditch attempt to save those animators by buying up the premises on loans and starting our own studio. The venture failed. There was a flood, too, but that's nothing unusual for my dreams.

The last dream was the worst, though - the color dream.

The world within this dream was the real world, but it was as though I could see through it, or under it. Sort of like the Matrix, I suppose, but I wasn't seeing code. I was seeing colors... the colors inside people.

It wasn't like they were auras or something; these were no gentle pastel mists floating around people's heads. They were violent streaks of bright colour through the centre of each person. Sometimes different parts of the person were subtly different colours. Oh, and unlike the Matrix, this world wasn't all cool and stylish; it was gritty and real. And, at times, violent. The whole thing was kind of like a really horrible episode of Law & Order SVU with the addition of my AuraVision. :P And in fact, I was around detectives for part of it. I don't think I was an actual character in the dream; I was an observer, unnoticed by everyone.

Mostly it was about tracking down this serial killer. He was a complete fucking psychopath, and I think I knew when I saw his color the first time I glimpsed him in a rage: a bright, poisonous green. Almost a yellowish-green. Almost a -cheerful- colour, but sick, a few shades wrong.

The worst thing about having this AuraVision was that I could see evidence of crimes, too... y'know how they shine blacklights around at crimescenes to make old traces of bodily fluids luminesce and become visible? It was like that, only even the fluids themselves had a colour for me, and it was mostly that green, and a bright yellow. At one point I was looking into the back of this guy's car with the detectives, and abruptly I saw the colours, and there were sprays and spatters of this stuff all over the leather seats and doors... all over the inside of the back of the car.

And at the same time I had a kind of mental flash to earlier on, and saw a girl getting into the backseat of that car. She was laughing, and I could still see those spatters and sprays of god-knows-what (at the time I got the impression it was sexually-related, but looking back I think it was probably bloodsprays too). She sat on that damn seat -surrounded- by this stuff she couldn't see, and she was laughing (she'd been out on the town; she was dressed up), and I remember saying aloud "Jesus, I she's getting -into- that thing..." I wonder how many there were before her.

The killer himself was a very good-looking young man, in a dangerous kind of way... cool, casual, dark hair that flopped into his eyes; a don't-care kind of air that I could see attracting people. He had real charisma. The first time I saw him in the dream, actually, I didn't see the colours immediately, and my initial reaction was to be drawn to him. Not a half an hour later I was at the first of his crime scenes with the detectives. He'd killed his mother in a laundry room, and that spray was here and there - not so much, this time - and that's when we found out it was him, because we SAW him, and he got away. I think he hit someone on the way out.

From that point on he was on the loose. He attacked someone with a screwdriver at one point. He was getting around on a motorcycle (because as I said earlier, we wound up finding his car) and killing indiscriminately. That green color inside him had started out as small areas of green within a mist of other colors, but it grew and grew throughout this, and by the end it was a violent, hard-edged smear as though it had been slashed across his chest with a fat oil pastel.

The color was toxic.

I was walking along the side of the road in a downmarket neighborhood in a city (oddly enough, I had the impression that this was America, or something very close to it). There was this old, decrepit playground there. A few people were scattered around. The ones I really noticed, though, was this pudgy black guy and his buddies; they were pretty big guys for the most part, but not unfriendly. I think I exchanged a couple of words with the leader. The colors were there again, and that's how I -knew- he was the leader; he had a cool blue and red and a couple other colors pulsing gently inside him, but his buddies were just grey. They all looked to him.

I was fascinated by this effect, but didn't have long to study it, as this is when the killer showed up again on his bike with a screwdriver. There was a garbage truck coming down the street at the same time, which added noise and chaos to the scene. It was particularly loud because, unlike any garbage truck I've ever seen, it had some sort of trash grinder in the back (not a compactor - this thing was designed to basically mince trash) and it was operating as the driver emptied bins into it with the auto-arm as he moved slowly down the street.

The killer motored up over the kerb into the park and stabbed some girl as he sped by, then spun the motorbike around to go 'round for another pass, but he was going too fast and uncontrolled, and as he was turning in the street he clipped the side of the truck and crashed the bike. He got up in one piece, but the black guys and a few others had run out into the street and they jumped this guy. They shoved him up against the back of the truck and started beating up on him, but he was fighting like an animal. The color in the others had touches of bright yellow, I think... it was hard to tell; they were crowding together. I remember darker reds and dark greens in there too. The killer was still burning toxic green. I was standing on the kerb, still, a distance away, when the mob lost it and somehow forced the killer into the trash grinder. And I knew my detectives wouldn't have a problem with him anymore.

Some time must have passed, because I wound up talking to one of the detectives in the same spot, much later the same night. I suppose I'd truly entered the world by then, because people could see me and hear me, but I still felt like an observer - as though I was semi-conscious that it wasn't real.

The detective left,and I started walking up the path to the corner. This girl came around the corner. She was pudgy and nerdy, thick glasses and bad hair, just a teenager still, just a schoolgirl. But the color inside her had traces of bright, virulent green, and I remember thinking to myself "It can happen in anyone..."

...and that's about when I woke up.

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Tania Walker

August 2008

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