Awhile back Cassidy had this string of very bizarre dreams. I made notes of their details with the intent of writing stories out of them. It has taken me quite some time to get to it, but I have the first draft of the first one.
I would like to share that first draft with you now and ask for your criticism. Is it any good? Does it have potential? Not enough Tony Danza jokes? Anything. Just don’t be a dick and be constructive. Thank you.
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Trapped
How she got there she had no idea. In her panic she couldn’t remember anything before this moment, before she was trapped. Suddenly she was stuck down here. It must have been some kind of deep hole in the ground because there was mud everywhere. The walls, the floor, everything wasn’t just covered in mud, it was mud. Soaked wet earth dark as the starless night sky above was all she felt. Rain pouring down the mud gathered under her nails and dripped down her arms as she thrashed at it trying to find a way out, to climb or dig her way, anything to get out from this place. Kicking her feet into the wall to gain a foothold to start her ascent only resulted in bringing more mud down into the hole.
All she knew was that she did not want to be here. Every fiber of her being told her to get away as fast as possible, to run from this place. But, no matter what she did the mud just kept falling down on her as she grasped at the walls. Unable to to gain any grip to propel herself upwards she stopped her furious approach to stand back and stare at the wall of dirt that held her in this place.
The rain continued to pour down, soaking the ground, her feet sinking into the mud. She knew she was crying, but couldn’t tell the difference from the rainwater and tears on her face. Standing defeated and staring up at the sky letting out one last yell of contempt for this hell she found herself in she fell back onto the ground. Lying in the fetal position holding her legs close to her for warmth and crying like Nancy Kerrigan she asked why this was happening to her. Who would want to do this to her?
Sobbing uncontrollably, not caring she was getting mud in her mouth, she gave up. No matter what she did she couldn’t get out of here. The rain kept falling, the mud kept slowly gathering around here, and the sky seemed further away. Freedom from this wasn’t an option. Exhausted from her attempts to escape and the adrenaline leaving her bloodstream her eyelids suddenly became very heavy. Sleep seemed like the only escape now. Maybe she would survive the night and under the sun she might have a better chance if the sun does in fact shine here. Or maybe she will slowly and peacefully fade away, escaping in death.
She was waking and the sound of the rain was gone. She no longer felt it beating down on her. The mud was no longer seeping between her fingers and toes. The floor didn’t feel like sopping wet dirt, but flat and textureless. She feared opening her eyes only to find herself still stuck, but the warmth on her face compelled her to awake. At least the rain was gone which could mean the mud is dried some, giving her a chance at freedom. But, she wouldn’t need to be digging her way out anymore for she wasn’t stuck in that hole any longer. The walls and ground made of mud were gone. The sky was no longer dark and impenetrable. She wasn’t shivering from cold, she wasn’t even soaked anymore, but completely dry. But, she still wasn’t free.
The uneven walls, the sinking floor, the rain dumping sky were all gone and in their place was smooth plastic feeling walls. It was a tiny room with no furniture, no windows, and no door. The ceiling, the walls, and floor were all a bright yellow as if this was some kind of Green Lantern jail cell. It was bright and blinding, something her eyes were slowly adjusting to, but what the source of light was she couldn’t tell. There wasn’t a single thing in the room, let alone something that could be providing illumination. It seemed as if the light came from everywhere.
Looking around for a way out and feeling for the signs of an exit the feelings of despair at being trapped returned. She was out of the mud, but still she wasn’t safe. She wasn’t home. The walls felt smooth and no texture to them at all, almost like plastic. She couldn’t even find a seem where the walls met the floor. It seemed perfectly sealed. Pounding on the walls proved fruitless. She tried to knock to hear for a hollow section, but all of it was solid. Anxiety started to come over her. It was terrible to be trapped in a muddy hole in the ground, but at least from there the possibility of escape existed. There seemed to be none from this place. How did she come to be here? Why was this happening to her?
She sat for what seemed like hours waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. She could only assume how long she had been in this place as without any change in the lighting it was hard to tell the passage of time. She took to singing as the silence was deafening and she needed something to occupy herself. At first it was whatever song that came to mind, pop radio mush about finding love in a hopeless place or possibly getting a call from someone. Eventually the words turned to gibberish to the tune of the National Anthem and she found herself evening singing the pledge of allegiance. Her voiced tired and her body grew weary. She sat down against the wall. Sitting down in the corner she actually found herself wishing to be back in the mud. To be trying to climb out of the darkness with the rain pouring down would actually be better. She remembered thinking how it was the worst event in her life, but how quickly it grew worse. At least there she had a chance of escape, regardless of how fruitless it felt. Here it all felt pointless.
Was this a waiting room of sorts? Was someone coming for her? Hopefully it would be to put an end to all of this. This was when she started to hear it. At first she couldn’t tell what it was. The only way she could describe it would be squishy. It sounded like the wringing out of a sponge, slow and deliberate. She felt the wall behind grow wet and her clothes started to soak. It was the walls making this noise. They were changing. Was a leak about to spring? Would the room soon be filling up with water? Se would surely drown. Running up to the wall examining it she could see what was happening. The walls were starting to bubble. Tiny bubbles were growing all over every wall. Not the floor or the ceiling, but the walls.
Reeling back to the center of the room she tried to control her breathing. Something was happening now. She couldn’t understand it, but at least something was happening. Something for her to fight against. But, she’d have to know more if she was going to get out of this alive,so she waked back up to the walls in inspect these bubbles more closely. As they grew larger it was apparent they were filling with water, but there was something else in them. At first she couldn’t tell, all could see was a speck in the middle. Each bubble seemed to have this same speck inside it. But, as the moments passed she realized it wasn’t just specks of dirt or dust, but something growing. In each bubble was something taking shape and growing in form. It was like watching a time lapse video of bacteria, slowly gathering and multiplying. She was watching something grow. She was watching many things grow. Looking around each and every one of the thousands of bubbles forming on the walls was full of water and the tiny, growing things. Minutes passed, but she felt frozen in time and place. What could this mean? The bubbles will have to pop eventually and then these things will out and who knows how large. What then?
She screamed and ran at the wall thrashing her hands across them, breaking the bubbles and spilling water all over the floor. If she could kill these things before they grew any larger she could survive. But, once the bubbles popped new ones came up in their place growing fast enough to catch up with the others. The water that spilled appeared to drain away to some unknown place.
Taking a step back she started to stare at the bubbles again. By now she start to see what was taking shape within them. She had to stare a few moments more to be really sure, but they began to grow to a point where it was clear what they were. In each bubble was a starfish. A starfish? What the hell was going on? Oddly enough they were all brown and green starfish. How big could these things get and how harmful could they really be? She had never heard of a starfish attack or anything with a starfish that resulted in harm coming to anyone.
By now she knew there wasn’t much she could do but watch. The bubbles began to break on their own and the starfish started to slowly slip down the walls. Even outside of the bubbles they appeared to still be growing. The water flowing from the walls under some unseen power flowed to the center gathering all of these starfish there with it, draining away to some unknown place. She backed away, but kept staring. As scared as she was at this bizarre turn of events it was incredibly compelling and she couldn’t look away. The starfish were becoming this mound in the center of the room growing in height. Only after a few moments passed could she be sure, but sure enough the starfish appeared to all be melding together like some kind of T-1000 of a sea creature.
As this combining pile began to take shape she could see that the starfish were gathering to combine into one immense creature. In the center of the room stood humongous, soaking wet creature. She never knew a starfish could “stand,” but here it was doing so. That was the least of her problems because as it did stand it let out a screeching call from the mouth at its center. A mouth made of a beak like found on an octopus with edges that looked sharp enough to tear through anything in this room, mainly her.
It lumbered toward her slowly its mouth gaping with a tongue lashing about, but there was nothing she could do. Where would she go? There wasn’t anywhere to run. This creature took up half of the room. There was nothing to use as a weapon against it. Nothing, suddenly, seemed like the best thing to do. She sat down against the wall. Silent. Ready. Ready for this to finally be over. How she got here she would never know.
The creature slowly came over her and finally she escaped. Freedom.


Wow! Well written and as you’ve already explained, a story from a dream… Those are the best!
I like the idea of writing a dream book, maybe a collection of different dreams, even doing research to find them. I like this story. It is fairly well written, although there were a few minor grammatical errors I noticed while reading. Also, I would drop some of the incidents and keep the major ones, you know, choose either to focus on the room with bubbles or the mud ditch, but not both of them. I also don’t like the ending. I think it is too easy to say, oh, well, she got free. I think you should end with her terrified in the corner. Unless you want to be true to the actual dream. Just thoughts. Cool story.
This is part of a larger idea of a small collection of stories written from the dreams my girlfriend was having over this period. It seemed like every night was another bizarre one for about a week. I would like to remain true to how the dream went and it did have these two parts to it, the mud pit and then the room.
The ending is meant to be that as the monster comes over to her she realizes the only escape is in giving up and letting it eat her. I wasn’t sure if this was clear in this first draft. It is one of the parts that needs polish.
Thanks for the feedback.
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