Monday, December 28, 2009

typical ending

Me, Winona Ryder, and Anthony Hopkins. My dream was bits and pieces of a movie I'd seen before and I was reliving the scenes with Winona Ryder. Anthony Hopkins was Hannibal Lector and was doggedly pursuing Winona Ryder, whoever she was supposed to be...she sure wasn't Clarice Starling. Anthony Hopkins was obsessed with her and I was her friend. We traveled from place to place witnessing his atrocities. At a crowded nightclub, he discreetly stabbed a young woman and carried her body out of the place. He kept following us around, saying creepy things to Winona Ryder about how lovely she looked and how she was next. He was skilled and sly, always hiding in places eyes never wandered. At a party we had in our house, he hid in a cabinet and stayed there until after everyone left. We were in the kitchen drinking tea when he jumped out and attacked her. I was horrified and powerless as she screamed and I struggled to pry her from his arms. He threw me to the floor and left with her struggling and slung over his shoulders. I was devastated. I knew he would eat her and I'd never see her again. But the next week she ran into the house, nearly naked and shivering. She cried in my arms and recounted the hours she'd spent imprisoned in his basement.

We went through the whole house bolting doors and reinforcing windows. We were terrified but too terrified to leave the house. We stayed there and waited, knowing he would come. And he did, sneaking in through a rooftop window we had overlooked. He laughed wickedly and took her by the neck. He cradled her in his arms and danced a tango with her as she whimpered and struggled. "You're mine this time," he whispered into her ear with an ugly toothy grin. But all of a sudden, four of our leather-clad anarchist friends jumped through the windows with hatchets and clubs. "Not this time!" one of them yelled. Another screamed, "We're gonna beat you to death, you maggot!" They began swinging their weapons at Anthony Hopkins and Winona Ryder escaped his clutches once again, running into my arms. They beat him brutally. They pounded his head and stomach with the clubs and hacked him bloody with spears. I thought for sure this time that we'd be safe from him once and for all.

But soon enough we were riding an escalator to the second floor of a shopping mall (or was it an airport?) and I realized I knew what was coming. "We have to turn around and go back downstairs and leave," I told her desperately. I told her I knew what was about to happen because I'd seen this scene before. He was waiting for her upstairs and she was finally going to meet her end. She looked at me stone-faced and said, "I have to go up there then. I can't change the scene." I knew she was right and I cried for her fate.

The next thing I knew, she was wearing some sort of peasant maid's costume and stepping into a wooden cart where other costumed people sat on wooden benches surrounded by hay. I waved goodbye jovially and she waved back. Then I noticed the costumed man sitting to her right, flashing me an evil grin. It was HIM, face painted white and red, wearing a gray curly wig. My stomach dropped and the cart drove away, getting smaller and smaller in the distance. Winona Ryder kept smiling and waving and that's the last time I saw her.

No comments: