The Right Handed Writer

[Hiuknowme]

I feel that this dream is split into two pieces, with both dreams getting at the same message in a different way. You decide.

"I can see a world. The hills curve upwards at an unrealistic ninety degree angle, close together with green tops covered in grass and randomly scattered orange and yellow flowers. It’s a perfect world. Nothing is wrong, nothing needs to be altered. There is very little animal life.
Suddenly, I feel a disturbance in the force. I zoom into the small path In between the hills. A group or people are hiking. I focus in on an old man, wearing a dark robe and hood. His beard spills out of the robe, and you can see bits of frizzy white hair peeking out of the edges of the hood as well. I can feel rather than see others around him. A dull, busty woman. A large, yeti of a man. A small child, smart but not questioning.
Scene change. I'm seeing a room, but I'm not actually in it. I can feel my essence shifting at an odd angle to fit in this small room with plaster walls, a horrid substance. The room is small. It has an ornate mirror in it, with slightly tarnished metal work. Its full length is a portal. Through it, I can see a blue and grey fog, swirling and twisting. I feel a presence from the portal approach, then settle just on the other side. Death emanates from it. I feel angry, snubbed that this force has been brought into my perfect world! How dare they summon this demon to defile the hills of paradise! The wizard stares solemnly into the mirror, and slowly raises his hand as if to touch the mirror.
Scene change. My hills of green are blanketed in permafrost and snow. The paths in between my unrealistic mounds are filled in nearly to the peaks. My bright sun is gone, beyond wool blankets of blizzard and icy clouds. It's sad here, like pure sorrow and grief hangs in droplets with the ice in the sky. The blue of the mirror matched the emotion filling my hills. I felt a fraction of my previous power. My conscious was groggy, my essence was limited. Below me, in the hills, a large gang of the yeti like man I saw earlier closed in on a small brown shape, moving swiftly on boards of ice. The brown shape is revealed to be a rabbit, hopping at full speed. Not fast enough.
Part 2- A small boy lies on a bed, looking up at the ceiling. His twin bed has a blue covering, but it is not a blue of sorrow and sadness, more like the blue of the night sky, clear and full of possibilities. His eyes matched. The room he is in has two doors into the same hallway.
I turned to watch his mother, with golden hair enter the room. She does not see me like the child does. She can feel my presence, but common sense brushes it off. "How ignorantly stupid you are," I think.
I get an outside view of my body, my 2-D body in a 3-D room, coming out of a hole above his bed. It's like a cartoon hole, with ripples around the edged, like someone moved aside layering in the fabric of reality to make a perfectly round hole, the one I was coming through, twisting and shifting, pushing off the wall to squeeze out of the entrance. Finally I sprang out, he momentum of my arms pushing off the wall carrying me to the other wall of the small room.
My next view is from the mother's perspective. All she sees is a ripple off the wall, and all she hears is a loud thud.
Now I'm in two views at once. Mine and the mother's I stumble backwards from the wall to the end of his bed, and move it about an inch. The mother sees only the ripples where my feet hit the carpet, and then the bed moving.
It's from just my view again. I realize that I've gotten the woman's attention. Fear springs into my heart. "Don't make me go back where I came from! Don't!" I think. I feel the panic rising in the woman's stomach, then into her throat, choking back words. I stumble back into a pile of stuff, then dive into the wall of toys and etc items, hiding from view, though I don't feel like she could see me anyway, just hear me and see the effect my clumsiness had on the environment.
I see it from the mother's view again. She's angry, how dare this thing enter my child's room and such and such. She calls out into the blackness. Feeling stupid, the mother goes to flip on the light. I'm hiding from her, nothing except the boy's slow breathing is moving in the room. I remember her well. Her hair is such a bright red it's almost orange, and so frizzy it looks like she fried it. Her pink, black, and white dress wraps around her wide body unflatteringly, and emphasizes her roles and protruding belly. After a moment of pure silence, she turns the light off, calmly walks over to her child, and kisses him goodnight. She leaves through one of the doors, and shuts another.
Carefully, I move from my hiding place. The boy is looking at me dead on. He understands, this child whose head created me. He looks on wisely, his puff of dark hair protruding off the pillow. Blue eyes. (This sticks in my mind, VX, my boyfriend now, has dark hair and blue eyes) I walk over to his bed, and lay down beside him. Kindred souls, he and I. I realize since I came out of his head, the hole in the wall, I've grown from the two foot cartoon to a five or six foot almost 3-D character.
For whatever reason, I decide to leave his room. My outside self knows that both doors lead to the same hallway, but my dream self doesn't. I walk out, and turn right. A group of adults are staring, hands over their mouths. The run at me, and I run away."
The rest of the dream is a blur of fear and panic, of hunting and being hunted.