[FOREWORD - This is not a dream about foot fetishes, before I alarm anyone. This is also quite a short entry, similar to the length of 'The Claymation Dream'. Also, this I'm labeling this dream with a warning because it is slightly graphic].
I
visit Lili's house for the first time to shoot a short horror film in the
living room: for some reason, there's a double bed in the middle, and for the scene I was apparently going to be tied to the bed. So Dan
(my friend) handcuffed my arms and ankles to the posts on the bed and then
draped a white duvet over the top of me, just leaving my feet visible at the
end.
I then
asked where the fake blood was going to go: Dan laughed and went out of the
room. He came back with a hacksaw and said there wasn't going to be any fake
blood. Then Lili held my legs still as Dan hacked through both of my
ankles. I was screaming bloody murder, begging them to stop, and I could see
all this blood pouring out of my legs. I heard the crunch as the last foot was
removed and they un-cuffed me. I started screaming, calling them "sick" and
when the doorbell rang, I decided to escape.
I went to
jump off the bed and realised I wouldn't be able to walk, but I didn't care, I
just wanted to run. I felt my stumps hit the floor, expecting pain, then
realised my feet were still there. I didn't bother to ask why, I just ran out
of the front door.
Instead
of a street, I was in a blue, public bathroom with 13 stalls. Tim Burton was
on the other side of the room drinking a Starbucks, and he told me to get in
one of the stalls and pee, because it was late and this was my last scene. Most
of the cubicles had people in them (including my mum) and, for some reason, I
could tell who each person was because I could see their feet beneath the
cubicle doors. I got to my door and realised I was holding a glass of red wine
for some reason. I turned to ask Burton what to do with it and he just yelled
at me and told me to take it in with me.
So I go
to pee, holding my glass (because there was no where I could rest it), and he
keeps having a go at me, telling me I'm doing the scene wrong. Eventually he
yells cut and tells me to do the next scene which is a stunt jump.
I climb
onto a block of boxes with one of those professional, inflatable bags beneath
(to catch me when I fall) and I jump: as I do, though, I realise there's a thin
wire going across the set and I catch my ankles on it, taking my feet clean
off. I fall, screaming as I go, blood everywhere...then I woke up.
No comments:
Post a Comment