This has been one of my most influential dreams. My dreams, which I admittedly don't often have, are usually very vivid and, well I think, are pretty amazingly detailed.
A few years ago I found that when an idea for a story entered my head, I could close my eyes at any time of the day and see the story unfold like a film, except I that I was in control of its happenings. When I slept, I would have dreams that led on from one to the other each night, and I would not have the power to control the characters. Yes, it was strange, and I found that I wanted to sleep wayyy more than I usually did. So I got older, and pretty abruptly, that all stopped happening. I guess imagination does falter a little with age, in my case, anyway.
It was freezing. My hands were numbingly cold and I'd lost all feeling in my nose and in my ears, although I was wearing a wooly hat and gloves.
I was standing in a wide expanse of ice. A massive ice-skating rink, square in shape. In the centre of the ice skating rink stood a large ice-sculpture of a bird. It had its beak pointing into the sky and its wings outstretched. I remember looking at it curiously, and of course, as often happens in dreams, as I felt like reaching out and touching the bird, I appeared to be right next to it. It was much taller than I had guessed from a distance and I had to crane my neck to see its head, but I had to squint because the sun was almost directly above us.
The sky was blue with the occasional white fluffy cloud, and the whole atmosphere felt very bright and cold. Frosty cold.
I was wearing ice-skates. There were people all around me, also wearing ice-skates. I looked into their faces as they skated past me, laughing with cheerful grins on their faces. I knew them - or most of them. They came from my school. In fact, it looked like my whole school was there. Kids from each year flew past me. Some groups holding hands, unsteady on their feet, others dancing across the ice like professionals.
I found I was at the rinks edge once again, my hands gripped tightly to the barrier. A group of my friends joined me, snowballs in their hands. Their faces weren't clear to me, but I knew that they were my friends. They laughed and chatted joyously, but then they started to talk about going home. One of them said they were getting a lift from their parents, and we were alright to get a lift from them, too, if we had no other means. I, along with all of my other friends agreed and thanked her gratefully. It really was cold, and I was looking forward to getting home.
I turned around to look towards the top end of the rink, where the entrance was. Instead of an entrance to the rink, there stood a huge marble palace, glimmering white like the snow all around in the distance. For the first time I noticed the landscape. White snow stretched on as far as the eye could see.
The palace was majestic. Very many marble steps led to its front doors, decorated with pillars and such. Suddenly the ice-skating rink started to clear of children, and I noticed that nearly everybody had already gone. My friends were nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly I was at the bottom of the marble steps, beneath the arches of the beautiful pillars. I looked upwards and above those arches were engraved a very many beautiful birds in flight. There were also figures of people and faces (it looked very roman, now I think about it) but I was too fascinated by the birds to look into the faces.
So I trudged up the steps, with a growing feeling of despair. My friends had already gone to find the car they were going to be taken home in, and I was not with them. Why had they left me? Where had they gone? For some reason, I knew in my head that they were at the car park, but where was the car park?
I looked back down into the rink. Nobody was there. Utter silence filled the entire space. I was completely alone. I started to feel a little desperate and annoyed at my friends, and annoyed at myself. Why had I been so slow in catching up? Why had I allowed myself to be left behind? Why was I such an idiot? Always such an idiot. I was getting rather frustrated at myself as I stomped around the porch (porch?) of the magnificent building in search of a car park.
I did find one. I do not remember it, but I'd known in my head I had been searching for a very long time. I came across the car park that was surrounded with white pillars, just like the ones of the palace.
There were a few cars there, and beside it appeared a busy main road. There were children here, everywhere, talking to parents, jumping into cars, but they all disappeared quite quickly, leaving me on my own again.
One car, however, was left. A girl stood outside it. The face was not familiar to me, but in the dream I knew them well so I walked over in relief.
'Have you seen Leeza and everyone? Have they already gone?' I'd asked them anxiously.
They'd told me they'd already gone, and then they said that they would give me a lift but they were not leaving as JK Rowling would be appearing at the palace, and if you lined up in a queue to see her outside, you would be able to go into the very palace and talk to her.
Book-loving little me cried out in excitement 'JK Rowling?!'
I almost had a heart attack. I'd loved Harry Potter more than life itself at this stage (I'm not doing myself justice during this dream log, sadly) so the thoughts of finding my friends and going home left my mind immediately. I completely forgot how cold I was supposed to be feeling and found my way back to the palace and the gigantic ice-skating rink. Of course, from here, there was no busy main road in sight, and again, all the could be seen was the palace, the ice-skating rink, the giant ice-bird and the flat, white landscape that surrounded it all.
I ran onto the ice and slipped but did not fall. I was not wearing my ice-skates anymore, and realized they would have been handy. I saw a friend far away. It had been the same one that had offered me a lift, I knew this in my head but thought nothing of it. So what? JK Rowling!
Suddenly people started to appear everywhere. A great red carpet was set over the white marble steps that led towards the great doors of the palace and people with cameras and microphones started crowding around it. There were flashes of lights and excited voices and shouts everywhere. I was thrilled. A queue formed, ordered by a grumpy man in a long coat and a fur hat. Something told me he was Russian and that I vaguely knew him, but I never found out who he was.
I joined the queue, but as the sky started to darken, chairs started to get set out all over the ice-skating rink. Little golden ones. The odd parent sat amongst them as their child waited excitedly in line to meet JK Rowling. I was awfully tired, especially since I could barely skate so my legs and feet felt bruised and frigid with cold. I sat down in one of the golden chairs and suddenly got very sleepy. I meant to keep my eye on my spot in the queue, but my thoughts became dreamy and vague.
I started to look up at the sky. There were no clouds now and the sky had darkened considerably. Stars were now twinkling above me, though it was not yet proper nightfall. And then I heard shouts of men as a roof was pulled over our heads.
A glass roof, but it had a wall propping it up that happened to be opposite me. It looked like what the inside walls of the palace would look like: white and covered with beautiful paintings in beautiful golden frames.
They were paintings of different colored birds - such as I had never seen before. Suddenly, as my eyelids started to drop, I noticed directly above me a small, graceful chandelier, twinkling in the rapidly dissolving light. The crystals were also in the shapes of birds.
I fell asleep and awoke to silence and darkness. There was no longer a roof, nor paparazzi, nor were there screaming fans or any queue. It was too late, I'd missed it!
Of course, dear little me got very upset and started to cry. 'Oh, why had I fallen asleep?' I was very angry with myself. For some reason I felt about 10 rather than 14 (which I was at the time). I felt shorter. I realized I had two long plaits, like I did when I was much younger. Odd.
This didn't bother me as much as the fact that I'd missed the oppertunity to meet JK Rowling, though! I wanted to describe how much I'd loved the Harry Potter books and tell her how many times I'd read each one, though she wouldn't believe me. I wanted her to like me better than all of her other identical, rabid fans. I wanted her to notice me and to like me, because suddenly her opinion mattered more than anybody elses in the world. The Harry Potter books got me through my childhood, got me through things I shouldn't have had to go through, gave me a place to go. A home inside a book. (now, I thought all of this during the dream, I'm not just rattling on *dramatic sigh*)
I slipped and skidded all the way to the red carpet, which was, of course, still deserted. I ran up the steps, tears running down my cheeks and tried the doors. They were locked. I started to cry louder, banding on the doors, and then I heard shuffling.
And suddenly I was very embarrassed. I had always hated strangers seeing me cry, like I was a baby. I looked around and saw a woman with a mop and bucket struggling through a one of the doors, which was open. I gasped and ran towards her.
She asked me if i was alright and looked anxious. She asked me where my parents were.
'I really want to see JK Rowling.' I told her, sniffing.
She smiled and led me inside, through loads of long, thin corridors. It didn't look much like a palace in here ... actually, it looked a lot like a hospital.
Yes, it was a hospital inside, because she led me into a room occupied by only a bed covered in a blue paper sheet, like those examination beds at hospitals. I never disliked hospitals, so the fact I was standing alone in one (the cleaner lady had left me to wait there) didn't bother me and excitement flooded through me once again. I was thrilled.
JK Rowling stepped in the door and suddenly i found I couldn't speak. She smiled at me and she was very nice, asking me what my favorite parts of the books were. She sat down on the bed and took off one of her shoes. She said it had been an exhausting day and she showed me the heal of her shoe, which had snapped.
For some reason, that was how my dream ended - or, at least, that's the most I remember of it.
It was a slightly uneventful dream, though I'd always loved it because of the wealth of detail and how real it had seemed, though I may not have done it justice. I am rather fond of Harry Potter. Haha!
[around February 2008]