The memory and sensation of my fingers gripping coarse fur and my own screams waking me to a room that was usual in every way except one, remains strong and tactile. My logic has tried to explain it away as a type of false awakening dream but 12 years after it last happened, I still wonder.
I mentioned in the post if you don’t risk anything, you risk even more about writing inspiration… “Previously I wrote a short story about not a dream, recounting the events where I was asleep and my then husband morphed into a werewolf beside me in bed. It wasn’t a dream. It did happen. That it occurred annually three times, and the two subsequent times my other sleeping companion, Baddy Cat, stood guard… gives the it was real argument weight”.
Screaming. Someone was screaming. I opened my eyes. The screaming stopped.
I thought I heard my husband ask “Are you alright?”. I rolled over to face him There was enough light in the room to perceive a werewolf lying next to me, asking “You were screaming. What’s wrong?”. my arm instinctively shot out to push him away As my hand met the fur on his back, I struggled to comprehend. I looked at my arm and my hand firmly holding the dark body at bay, and around my bedroom, yes, everything was normal except there was a werewolf next to me, speaking to me. His brown eyes shone , looking at me quizzical and concerned In the soft darkness I could discern his face, although furry and dog like, did not look evil, just scary His body and coarse fur felt dense and muscular against my fingertips. When the werewolf spoke his voice had a soft growl like timbre, “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare? “Was I having a nightmare? I asked myself. I couldn’t think what I had been dreaming or why I would have been screaming. Now it seemed I was awake and conversing with a werewolf. A one sided conversation, as I was vocally paralysed. Only seconds had passed but they were slow seconds, stretched out . “What are you doing here?” was the response I eventually managed. Again, the puzzled look. The werewolf’s eyes were gentle and expressive but his muzzle as he spoke revealed long, pointed, yellowed incisors. “What do you mean?” he asked back. I struggled to verbalise my thoughts, “You’re a werewolf”. He looked at me, then down at himself. His expression showed no trace of reaction“You’re dreaming, go back to sleep” he responded and as he looked into my eyes, sleep reclaimed me.
I next awoke in the early morning light, my
grey cat curled at my side watching me. As I remembered the night, I rolled over anticipating the werewolf, my arm outstretched, but my husband’s pale skin shone faintly in the light from the window. The cat nudged against my arm and I slept again. In the morning I asked my husband “Do you remember last night?”. “Yes, you were dreaming ” was his only response.
next night I felt uneasy so I delayed as I prepared for bed. My husband was already sleeping by the time tiredness prevailed and I eventually fell asleep with the cat next to me. I awoke to her licks on my rigid arm and my hand enmeshed in the rough texture of the werewolf’s fur. My eyes recognised the same dark shape, I closed them again and when they reopened, it revealed what my fingertips had felt in that moment, the change back to the bare skin of my husband.
According to the consensus of dream interpretation websites, and best said by Blackridinghood “To dream of werewolf means that someone you love and trust has revealed (or is hiding) a different side of themselves. They are hiding something important from you.” Hell yes, didn’t that turn out to be so. False awakening indeed.