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So here it is, the second (and last) volume of my dream sketches. Most of these were definitely the product of young-me's nightmares (except Clyde, I don't remember much about him aside from him being a friend, and being just a tangled knot of arms beneath the coat), and so most were also not recurring dreams. They're kind of the "special" dream characters, and I kinda want to do something with them eventually.
The two exceptions to the above are Mr. Dreamdust (who I could never draw right) and Mandie, both of which were nightmares from when I was much younger. You can kind of see the simplicity in them, as I guess teeny-tiny-me didn't have much imagination to draw from for nightmares. That's why Mr. Dreamdust has the build of an action figure that you swapped the arms and legs with (who hasn't done that at least once), and why Mandie is, well, Mandie.
Actually, I gotta talk about Mandie for a bit, because she's the most memorable of all these fiends.
Back when I was really little, me and my brothers slept in the unfinished basement of our rental house; my two oldest brothers in one room, me and my closest brother in another (my lil' sis had her own bedroom upstairs). Now, late at night, the basement was downright terrifying. The flower-patterned curtains next to our bunk bed took on demonic faces in the darkness, and the doorless, windowless storage room where Dad kept old toys, computer parts, tools, and such, was an absolute doorway to horror. Poking my head out of my room (which didn't even have a door, just a curtain), the tools and parts hanging and poking out of the room would look like so many arms and tentacles, barely emerging from the shadow. Plus, there was an old plastic rocking horse hanging from the ceiling, which for whatever cursed reason had glow-in-the-dark eyes, which just compounded the terror. This should give you a good picture of how terrifying it was to wake up late at night and try to use the bathroom or get a drink of water.
Anyways, to make matters worse, I also had a reccuring dream; I would wake up in my bed, my brother still asleep in the bunk above me, and for whatever reason, I had to go upstairs; either I had to use the toilet, or I was thirsty. I'd creep out of my room, past the curtained doorway, and try to avoid the rocking horse's glowing gaze, sneaking from one loadbearing pillar to the next, trying to reach the stairs.
And then, I'd hear the scampering of feet. Lots of feet.
I'd look around, but I was alone in the darkness.
Still, I could hear a crowd of people scampering from one side of the room to the other.
Panicked, I'd rush for the stairs, but right when I had almost made it, I'd hear the sound of scissors. Right. next. to. my. head.
And then, of course, I'd turn around and look up, and there was Mandie, hanging from the ceiling, her six human-footed scorpion legs scampering like the sound of a crowd of people. She'd raise her scissor-claws towards me, her zipper-mouth slipping open and...
...I'd wake up.
In my bunk bed, my brother still asleep above me. In the darkness.
But was I awake? Was I still in the dream, Mandie out there waiting to get me? I never chanced it, and would burrow into my covers for the rest of the night.
Goddamnit Mandie, you absolutely traumatized teeny-tiny-me.
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