I hate to fly - of course, this was when I was indifferent about travelling. I just didn't really like the idea of going out of the country when you had the comfort of your own home, I guess. Something like that. I get severely travel sick too; cars, boats and planes alike which is also fun. But now, I spend my days inside. I haven't gone out in a long time which ironically is the cause of my several deficiencies and illnesses.
This happened around 2015, in Santiago, Chile. Funnily enough it happened whenever my mum, two sisters and I went there to see our maternal family. It was a fourteen hour flight from the U.K and we would go for Easter - we supposed to go this year in August too, if the circumstances allow us.
It would start off the same - we'd go depart from Heathrow on the airline British Airways, have a stop over in São Paulo, Brazil and then board again for Antofagasta, where my grandad and my mum's brothers live and stay there to venture around, remembering places we used to frequent here and there; maybe even get visits from uncles and cousins alike.
After having a few days to settle in, mum would go shopping and she'd take us with her to the hypermarket we would always go to [Jumbo]. The colours were simplistic for a shop with green and white lining the name of the shop and the walls.
We'd then have a huge first dinner at our grandad's and recollect memories of us when we were small. after that we would get 'free time' to go to parks and beaches - I took the time to visit the nursery I went to [Jardín Infantil Carnavalito] for about what I think was a year or two, before we moved to England after my little sister was born a long time ago.
After that, we'd pack four days' worth of clothes and necessities before we set off for Santiago where my mum's older sister [my godmother] lived. She was well of in an apartment of her own savings working at a very stable business. Our cousins [Sebastián and Carolina] lived with her too, all grown up with their own jobs and significant others. Everything was good.
Everything was good that is, until night came. When the sun had gone to sleep, after a scorching day of 24C with nothing but blue skies and rainless days, and the moon came up, lying beautifully silent in the peak of the blanket-like sky, as if a mix of Oxford Navy and Midnight Blue amidst the starless canvas.
Everyone had gone to sleep, burned out from the past week's activities and tired from the ever burning sun beating down on their backs with no relent. It was pretty late. I for one, had a little longer until I fell asleep as the insomniac I am. It was hard enough sleeping in my own bed because I just couldn't, so sleeping halfway across the world from my bed was near impossible.
However I managed, and found myself dreaming the same dream I've been dreaming since I first came to Chile when I was very small.
THE DREAM
It was hot. Just a little over the usual temperature that falls onto Santiago with the sun burning a little more brighter than it did before, presuming I had been here before -I didn't really know where 'here' was, again presuming I was even in Santiago. I mean, it was very convincing wherever I was. It looked just like Tia Chabe's apartment complex with surrounding buildings and the same streets but there was something off.
For starters, I was already standing at the balcony - I don't know how I got here, or why I'm here in the first place that was until I heard a faint but audible loud boom, as if something had exploded in the far distance, not too close from here. I hold onto the ledge as I crane my neck towards where I think the sound is coming from only to stumble and falter, trying to readjust my grip onto the ledge.
"What the hell was that?" I murmured to myself, frowning at the direction of the sound, squinting my eyes at the people below, seemingly unshaken and carrying on with their day until the ground shook again, lasting a little longer than the last time. The people on the streets soon started to take notice and their faces soon merged into panic and confusion, clustering together in masses as the ground shook once more, this time continuously trembling and convulsing, forwards, backwards until buildings started crumbling.
An earthquake was passing through. An earthquake was passing through so this should be 'standard earthquake in Chile stuff' right? I guess not because now as I look beyond the clearing of the cloudless sky I can't believe my eyes as to what I see.
It wasn't until I looked at what had me shocked to say the least again. There, in broad daylight was something you would only see in dreams like this. Something like 100 feet tall, falling just short of the leaning tower of Pisa, was a... well, I didn't know what it was but I could say it was something of a mix of what seemed to be a thing, with the build and frame of a robot but with one... eye? I really don't know; what's more is that it has the thinnest of limbs. And no, it's not Sirenhead or Slenderman or anything of the like - this happened five or six years ago.
It was something otherworldly for I couldn't believe my eyes. This definitelyhad to be a dream withina dream. I continued to follow it with my head as it slowly made its way down the street the apartment complex was on, footsteps paced and weary, taking their time before imprinting themselves into the ground, the ground shaking in response as I once more stumbled and faltered before again pulling myself to a stand.
The freakishly tall thing strode on, not paying mind to the people beneath it and all around it, running for their lives, running to their safety away from whatever this is.
And then it stopped. It stopped in front of where I was, turning ever so slowly towards me as if it knew I was there. I backed away, inching towards the glass doors behind me as I felt a wave of an indescribable feeling rush over me; something between nausea and fatigue.
And then I was being lifted into the air by that thing and I couldn't breathe as I felt my lungs tighten. Was I really going to die like this? I guess so.
I woke up.
As usual that's how my dream always ends - I don't know why, I don't know how, I definitely do not know what it means. To this day, I've never been able to dream about it at home in England. And to this day, I will probably keep dreaming the same weird, unsettling dream.
