Nightmare on Desktop Street

You know in the beginning of Nightmare on Elm Street, where the girl is running away from Freddy and she gets slashed by him and wakes up to find that she was actually cut? That same thing kind of happened to me, except it was nothing like the movie at all.

In my dream, I was a bodybuilder. I could lift a weight a few times, and my muscles would swell to the size of large hams. They would deflate quickly, so I would have to pump myself up over and over again. In between muscle pumpings, I would pose in the mirror, looking baleful, yet in a suave, I-don’t-care, bad boy brattitude. I noticed there was a cluster of moles on my forearm. I panicked for some reason, and patted myself down to find any more new moles. There was a sizable lump on the inner part of my left thigh. I screamed expletives in fear, and decided that it had to come out, and it had to come out now. Using my macho self-mutilating will, I dug my fingers behind the tumor. The skin was surprisingly spongy, and I could feel it easily. I pushed my hand in as deep as it would go, then yanked the ball of flesh as hard as I could. It hurt like shit, but it was still attached. I felt it spring back into my leg. I grasped it a second time, trying to squeeze it to death. I was able to choke it for a bit, but it felt like a hot iron was goring my leg. I decided to give it one last try. I wrapped my right hand around the tumor as hard as I could, squeezed the tumor as if it were a stress ball, inhaled sharpl, and…

I woke up in pain. Throwing off my sheets, I saw my hand driven into my pants clasped around my left testicle, which was throbbing with pain.

I’m glad I didn’t make that final pull. Also, I’m now afraid to go to sleep, because I don’t want it to happen again.