Young Writers Society

I love dreams. They can often bring out the most creative, hidden corners of people's minds. Sometimes they're beautiful, sometimes dramatic, sometimes scary, and sometimes just weird and funny.

I dream almost every night, and I usually remember at least bits and pieces of it. Every once in a while, however, I'll have a dream that I remember in such detail that I have to write it down when I wake up!

However, these written-down dreams are hardly literary works of art, so I've decided to make a thread in which I share some of the most fascinating and/or hilarious dreams I've had.

I also heartily invite anyone else to share their dreams, since I absolutely love to hear about other people's dreams too.

By the way, if anything in my dreams inspires you to write a story, don't hesitate! I can't speak for other people, but I don't place any copyright on the stories that flow through my head and heart while I'm asleep. However, if any of my own characters appear in a dream I share here, I'll make it clear that you can't steal the character.

I'll start with the dream I had last night, which I've entitled, "Cinderella's Secret Garden":

"This dream was kind of like a mix between “Cinderella” and “The Secret Garden”. The protagonist was a child, but I’m not quite sure how old she was—older than 8, but younger than 15. She was living in a mansion with a cruel stepmother and one stepsister, but it wasn’t a wide-open mansion with bright halls and big rooms. It was a nooks-and-crannies mansion with dark-wooded walls and all sorts of little halls and rooms and closets to explore. From my perspective, it was sometimes as if I was writing the story, sometimes as if I was watching it, and sometimes as if I was the child herself. At points, I felt some frustration that it was too much like Cinderella (as though I was writing it myself), but at other times I was intrigued to see how much it would vary and how much it would stay the same (as though I was watching it).

As in the fairy tale, our protagonist—we’ll call her “Cinderella”—bore a lot of work in the household. I wouldn’t say she did all of it, but the stepmother showed an obvious favoritism for the stepsister. She would blatantly announce that the stepsister didn’t have to do this or that job, such as washing the dishes, but that Cinderella was going to do it. The stepsister was also a young teenager or pre-teen, and she regarded Cinderella with disdain. Cinderella, on her part, answered every command with joy and singing, and a knowledge that she still had her secret place that she could retreat to.

Sometime earlier in the dream, they were in a patio room with big windows that looked out into the backyard (where there was a forest) and a round, high table with chairs around it that was presumably for tea time. The stepsister carelessly threw down her purse on the table, and some coins spilled out of it, scattering on the floor. Distracted by something else, she didn’t even notice, and Cinderella quickly gathered up the coins and hid them in her pocket. She was collecting things to prepare for a time that she might need to escape.

Later, the stepmother and stepsister were sitting down to dinner in the dining room, which was attached to the kitchen. The table was spread with a beautifully-patterned tablecloth with dark, earthy colors. The place settings were extremely elegant with something like three plates stacked on top of each other, several real-silver forks and spoons on either side, and glasses, wine glasses, and dessert plates above each setting. I don’t remember whether the stepmother was entertaining guests, or whether there were only three settings. However, Cinderella saw that there was a place setting at the end of the table with no one at it. Cautiously, she wondered whether it was for her. Timid as a mouse, she slowly approached it, glancing around to see if anyone else was going to sit there. She looked questioningly at her stepmother.

In response, the stepmother jumped up furiously, shouting something like how dare she assume she was supposed to sit at the table with the rest of them. The stepsister made nasty faces at her and gloated about how she was allowed to be at the table, but Cinderella wasn’t. Then the poor girl was set away to eat in her room.

I can’t remember whether Cinderella had her own, tiny room, or whether it was just a bed and a dresser shoved into the corner of the patio room. However, when she came to the bed she found a place setting on it. Though it was a simpler setting, the girl was amazed to see that it had the same beautiful dishes and real silver silverware as the settings at the table. Wonderingly, she picked up the silverware and turned it all over in her hands, admiring it. I think she ended up sneaking some of it away to her secret place.

As it turned out, the empty place setting was for someone other than Cinderella, but it wasn’t a guest. Rather, it was a new addition to the family. Someone (maybe the stepmother, maybe the author) had realized that in the fairy tale, there are TWO stepsisters, and oh my gosh, right now we only have one. And so the stepmother adopted another person into the family to fill the role of the second stepsister. However, in order to give variation to the story, the second “stepsister” wasn’t a girl, but a big man with mixed African and Caucasian heritage who liked Cinderella instantly and refused to act like the stepmother and other stepsister.

The man was also seriously disabled. It was very difficult for him to move his arms and legs, and even his wide face and smile were somewhat stiff. At times, he had to talk very slowly, and there was just a general stiffness all about him. The explanation went something like, he had been very seriously injured and had to undergo major reconstructive surgery in the past. It had been a long time since the surgery, but he had healed as much as he was going to, and now everything was basically a little out of whack.

Unfortunately, the new “stepsister” didn’t do or say anything to stop the abuses of the stepmother and stepsister. Perhaps he couldn’t. There was the sense that he was somehow beholden to the stepmother: maybe she was the only one willing to give him a home (which she did because there HAD to be two stepsisters). He watched sadly from the couch as the stepmother made Cinderella do all the work and the stepsister made fun of her, but he didn’t say anything. Even if he had, it would have been too difficult for him to move do actually do anything about it. He spent most of his time sitting on the couch and the living room.

However, Cinderella sensed his sincerity and liked him very much. It was nice to have a “stepsister” who wasn’t mean to her all the time. Whenever she had a chance, she would go over to the couch and hug him around the neck and talk to him and listen to the stories he had to tell.

Things seemed to be looking up, but a new problem was fast approaching—a problem which would change everything. Although before, Cinderella presumably had her own little bed and bedside chest of drawers, the stepmother suddenly decided that, no, this was too much for her. She ought to sleep on the couch (a couch in a different room than where the second “stepsister” usually sat). “Well,” thought Cinderella, “it’s not a problem. I can be comfortable on the couch too, and besides it’s beautiful in that room with the fireplace.” So, as usual, she obeyed without complaining.

I don’t remember how the timeline worked out here, but it turned out that the coins Cinderella had been gradually collecting were under her pillow or in a drawer beside her bed, and her stepsister discovered them. Hearing an indignant shriek from the patio room where the bed was, Cinderella realized what was happening and rushed in. There she found her stepsister on the bed, holding open the little, velvet drawstring bag where the coins had been hidden. The stepsister was screaming about how she should have KNOWN something was wrong when she went to balance her budget and found that a few dollars didn’t add up, and that she had always known Cinderella was a nasty little rodent and a thief and that she wouldn’t get away with this.

Then the stepmother came storming in. Flinging the bag on the ground so that the coins scattered everywhere, the stepsister jumped up and started wailing out the story to her mom. Cinderella was terrified. What would they do? She couldn’t stay any longer. She had to escape to her secret place. But she couldn’t leave without the coins. She had been saving them up just in case she needed to escape, and now was the time. While the stepmother and stepsister were talking, she desperately scrabbled for them on the floor, trying to make sure they were all there. She had often counted them when she was in bed at night, and knew exactly how many there were of each kind. There were some quarters, several dimes, and one penny.

But she didn’t have time to count them carefully now, and some had rolled too far for her to reach them. Gathering as many as she could—including the penny—she leapt to her feet and ran out the back door as fast as her legs could carry her. She ran into the forest and wouldn’t stop running, terrified that they would follow her. She had to get to her secret place. If she could get there, she would be safe.

Diverting from her usual path, she decided to take the eastern route rather than the western route. There were trails in the forest, but she never took the eastern route because she knew it was swarming with Japanese ladybugs. Wanting to keep anyone from following her, she decided to brave the ladybugs. It wouldn’t be too bad, would it? Desperate times called for desperate measures.

But there were even more ladybugs than Cinderella had expected. It was about as horrible as it could be. Ladybugs covered the paths so that at every step they crunched under her feet. They swarmed through the air, stupidly bumping into each other, and into her face, and into everything else because they had no clue where they were going and didn’t care anyway. They crawled up her legs and landed on her arms and bit her and squirted stink juice when she swatted at them so that she finally decided that this was too much. She couldn’t take the eastern route. Diverting from the path, she dove into the cool greenness of the forest and got as far away from the ladybugs as she could.

At last, Cinderella came to her secret place. It wasn’t very big, or very elaborate. It was just a simple, crooked little tree by the side of the path that covered a little area where there was wonderfully soft, dark, loamy soil. By then, it was night and the forest was dark, with the light of the moon filtering in through the trees. Sitting down under the tree, Cinderella gratefully dug her hands into the soft soil and turned it over. Then she dug a little hole in the dirt and hid her coins in it, carefully covering them up. Even if her stepmother found her, she wouldn’t find the coins.

Now it was time to think of practical matters, such as how she would live here now. At this point, I’m not sure exactly how, but a little boy with a pale, thin face and a sleight figure showed up. Cinderella began talking to him as if they were friends, or even a brother and sister. Maybe he even was her real brother who had been somehow lost when their real mother died.

In the past, Cinderella had hidden many little things here under the soft soil, and she dug up the real silver silverware that she had stolen as well as a lump of clay. Talking all the while to the boy about how they would now need to cook their own food, she began working the pale clay with her hands. Gradually, she formed it into a bowl, asking the boy if he remembered how she had always been so good at making bowls out of clay. Somehow, they urgently needed a real bowl or else they would starve.

The bowl had begun to form into a beautiful, squarish design with four, somewhat rounded corners that spread outward from a circular base. It was going very well, but suddenly, Cinderella made one spot a little too thin, and the clay tore. Greatly distressed, she reminded the boy that she hadn’t actually made a bowl since she had started living with her stepmother and stepsisters, so she was out of practice. The boy didn’t say anything, but the whole time played absently with a smaller piece of clay and listened intently. It was almost as if he was a gentle ghost.

Somehow, that little mistake had discouraged Cinderella so much that she decided it was impossible to make a bowl of her own, but she would have to go back to the house and sneak a bowl from there. The thought of going back was frightening, but for some reason they needed that bowl more than anything else. Telling the boy that she would be back soon, Cinderella stood up and ran along her usual route back to the mansion. She got there quickly, but since it was late, all the lights were out inside. Hoping that everyone was asleep, Cinderella held her breath and snuck in through the back door.

It was somehow harder to get a bowl than she had expected, but she couldn’t leave without it. Cinderella realized she needed help, and she knew who she could ask. There was one person in this house who she trusted: her second “stepsister”—who now seemed to be more like a father. Finding him on the couch, she begged him to help her, explaining to him everything that had happened and how she had to run away now and couldn’t come back ever again. The man understood and somehow assisted her in getting a bowl, but he was very sad that she had to leave. He wished things could have been different. They said farewell, and then little Cinderella ran back into the darkened forest, back to her secret place and her secret brother.

Then I woke up."

I very rarely remember my dreams. Like, super rarely. When I do remember dreams it's usually just snippets, scene fragments and impressions. Moat of what I can recall from my dreams is usually pretty odd.

I had one dream a few months ago that started at my (former, but at the time current) school, and somehow the paddocks beyond the school oval had turned into a massive marina full of boats. For some reason (I can't remember what it was, but I'm pretty sure there was a reason) a few of us had to sail to Prague (is that even possible? Retrospectively I'm wondering if one can even get to Prague by boat. Never mind that we were sailing fancy yachts). From Australia. Somehow we got there in a few hours (I wish getting to Europe was that quick), and there's some fuss about who I'm sailing back with, I think? Wherever we were, it was suspiciously similar to the school gym. At some point I left there, and I'm not me anymore - rather, I'm Marty McFly. I think I drove for a bit down a windy, scenic road, and then I find another boat, I think it's supposed to be the one I'm getting back on. I have a vague suspicion that I had a buddy I was sailing back with, and the inside of the boat was pretty full on and pink. I'm not sure how it ended.

That's probably the dream I remember the most of in recent times. I actually had a dream last night where I can only remember kissing a hipster-looking dude on the cheek and that's about it. I can remember waking from dreams and being totaly freaked out - can't remember the dreams themselves, just the waking up, so as much as I sometimes wish I could remember more of my dreams, I'm kinda glad I don't.

Hahaha, that's awesome, Trisarahtops!

I have a whole Microsoft Word document in which I've been recording my dreams since apparently 2011. I think I'll go back from the beginning and start posting them from there. I don't write them down as often as I used to, since I now tend to be more busy in the mornings.

And the first dream in my file just happens to have a triceratops in it! How interesting...


Adventures with Claudia (April 2011)

Pilate's wife, Claudia was in the palace when they brought one of Jesus' followers up, intending for him to be crucified as well. I was there also, as Claudia's handmaid.

Claudia had recently become a believer, but none of the Romans knew about it yet. They were about to find out.

“Come, I’ll take this man out to be flogged,” she told the soldiers imperiously. She took his bound hands and began to lead him away, with me close behind.

There was a very tall, wide, gray staircase of stone leading out of the palace. It was reminiscent of the stairs on Mayan pyramids, only freshly made and smoothly polished.

When Claudia, the prisoner, and I made it to the bottom of the stairs (which was a long journey), Claudia didn’t turn right, toward the floggers. Rather, she suddenly took the bonds off the prisoner’s wrists and turned left into the dark green woods. The soldiers, who had been following a ways behind down the stairs, at once realized their mistake. They picked up the pace and began charging after us.

Claudia, the disciple, and I ran headlong down the forest path. Let me take a moment to describe this forest. It was dusk by then, so everything had turned to dim shades of blue and green. The trees were very tall and straight with large, dark green, partially translucent leaves that hung down. There was a smooth, dark gray, cobblestone path that led through the woods. Moss grew all around, and a little bit was on the path. There were also olive trees, and the weather was cool and fair.

And so, we ran along the cobblestone path with the soldiers close behind. The disciple had protested somewhat, saying he was meant to be martyred, but Claudia wouldn’t listen to such nonsense.

After a while, we lost the soldiers, and we came to a single, small, wooden, Oriental structure of one room. There we met an intelligent young orphan about my age (I was about 17 when I dreamed this) who welcomed us to seek refuge in his house for the night. This orphan had been living in the forest for years, and he often helped travelers. He had short, black hair, black eyes, a sort of eye shadow, and a few freckles. He was dressed in blue, and he was very kind. I took a liking to him.

But then, tragedy struck. The soldiers found us in the house and attacked us. Claudia, the disciple, and I escaped, but not the orphan. Either the soldiers killed him on the spot or took him as a prisoner. I’ll never know.

After this, we somehow ended up stranded in a lake, with a tall, gray cliff behind us and water stretching all round on the other sides. We could see the shore to the right and to the front, but not to the left for the lake curved around the cliff. Yet we wanted to go left because the soldiers were coming from the right.

We were in a sort of glass pool about 2 ½ yd by 1 yd which was also full of water, but it was only about two feet deep.

“We’re stuck!” the disciple exclaimed, “Where can we go now?”

“Don’t worry,” Claudia responded, “There’s a boat here.” And with that, she brought forward a boat from somewhere inside the cliff face. It looked like a red, plastic bath-toy boat, but it was large enough to barely hold all three of us.

Unfortunately, when Claudia’s back was turned, I did a very Little-Critter-like thing and tried to launch the boat myself. It at once dipped down and began sinking. “Oops,” I said.

Claudia turned just in time to see the boat fading into the murky depths. “Get it back! Get it back!” she cried. The disciple tried to retrieve the boat with a long, wooden pole. He almost brought it back to the surface a few times, but he eventually lost it for good.

Of course, Claudia was very cross with me, but I told her, “It’s okay. I have another plan.” The Roman soldiers were getting closer every minute, but I managed to find two large buckets in the glass pool. They looked like giant sand toys—one yellow and one red. Sadly, they weren’t as large as the boat, but Claudia got into one, and the disciple and I managed to fit into the other, and we went bobbing unsteadily off, left along the lake. We looked rather silly, standing precariously in the sand toys and trying to keep them from sinking, but the situation was desperate—life-or-death.

We soon found that the lake was more like a river, and suddenly it dipped straight down into the cliff face and went underground and underwater.

Next thing I remember, we were in a cozy, warmly lit living room. We were still underwater, but the room was enchanted or something so that it stayed dry even when the door was opened. Claudia seemed to know the place well as though it were her hideout or Pilate’s house or something.

The room was very homey with off-white walls and carpet, with a couch, a lamp, and even windows with curtains. The place was full of a soft light.

But then we heard the soldiers approaching. “Go on ahead,” Claudia urged me and the disciple, “I’ll be behind you.”

So the disciple and I got up and left the room. We were underwater for a while, but then we got into slightly more shallow water, which we navigated in our sand-toy bucket.

We were still underground when we came to another flight of stairs like the ones outside the palace. We went down them into a large, spacious room connected with other rooms. I think Claudia made it to that room too.

Then we heard the soldiers coming again, so the disciple ran ahead through the other rooms. I ran behind him, but Claudia didn’t follow us.

I soon found that each underground chamber was full of a different species of dinosaur, but they were all sleeping, and none of them were dangerous until the last room.

There was a triceratops there, and it immediately lowered its horns and charged at me. I dodged and ran around it, trying to make a break for the stairs where the disciple had escaped to safety. But when I got to the stairs, I found I was too slow in climbing them, and the triceratops forced me back down.

Deciding my chances were better with the Roman soldiers and Pilate than with the triceratops, I started running back through the rooms. The triceratops chased me, and other dinosaurs started to wake up. Some of them were just in the way, and some attacked me.

I had almost made it back to Claudia and the soldiers when I woke up. Sorry.

All right, I'm posting another one. This one was epic, especially if anyone here has played both Battle for Middle Earth and Skyrim.

The Black Troll (5/2/12)

In this dream, I entered Battle for Middle Earth as my Skyrim character. I found Saruman living in a huge, gray-stoned castle with many towers, hallways, and rooms. There was an open space around the walls with wide, stone stairs leading up to it.
Going into the castle, I talked to Saruman, and he told me, “Since you left Battle for Middle Earth to become a Skyrim mage, we’ve hardly been able to defend ourselves.”
We stepped outside and looked out across the wall to see a few Orcs approaching from a Mordor camp.
“They’re sending another attack,” Saruman said, “Will you help us just this once?”
I agreed, and taking out my Imperial Bow from Skyrim, I aimed carefully and shot down the Orcs.
But the attack was not over.
Suddenly, more Orcs, Uruk-hai, and Trolls came streaming out of the Mordor camp. They were accompanied by some monsters from Battle for Middle Earth II: Half-trolls and Giants. Even some Skyrim Giants were part of the attack.
At the sight of this, I turned and selected some building spaces, building a Gondor barracks, a Gondor archery, and two battle towers. Then I turned back to shooting down enemies as Gondor archers and Gondor soldiers joined me.
As I was shooting arrows, I was suddenly afraid I would run out because I rarely stocked up on arrows in Skyrim since I was a mage. However, when I looked up at my number of arrows, I found there were 23 left. With the archers and soldiers on my side, that would be enough.
Just then, a new monster came from the Mordor camp. It was something I had never seen before: a huge, menacing, pitch-black troll. As the Mordor units reached the stairs and began climbing them, the black troll joined them.
Hurrying up to me, Saruman anxiously told me, “That’s their strongest unit. Do you think you can kill that one?”
“Yes,” I replied, “But I’ll have to use magic.” Putting away my bow, I filled both my hands with lightning, charged up a spell, and shot it at the troll. That caught its attention. It staggered from my attack, then let out a horrible roar and began charging up the stairs towards me.
I shot another lightning bolt and scored another hit, but this time the troll didn’t stagger. What’s wrong? I thought, Double-casted spells are supposed to make enemies stagger! I tried shooting another one but missed in my panic. By then, the troll was getting too close for me to shoot another lightning bolt, so I ran away, trying to get far enough away to attack again.
Turning around and backing away, I shot two more lightning bolts, but both missed. I shot one more, and it scored a hit, but it hardly affected the troll.
It was too fast. I started running away again, but at the same time, I saw out of the corner of my eye three more black trolls charging up the stairs. It was then that I really started to panic. How could I defeat all these trolls at once?
Coming to the edge of the wall, I was forced to turn and go inside the castle. The trolls followed me, but I thought I might be able to lose them then sneak back and attack them because it seemed Saruman’s entire castle was connected together by systems of hallways.
Then I ran into a small, square room. It was a dead end. The first troll charged into the room, in a rage. Terrified, I searched desperately for a way of escape and found a little, wooden door in the back wall. I opened the door but immediately realized it was the door out of Battle for Middle Earth back to the Real World. Hurriedly, I closed it again. Even if it meant my life, I couldn’t risk letting those black trolls into the Real World.
By then, the troll was upon me. I didn’t even have time to shoot another lightning bolt. As the other black trolls joined it, it started beating me up.
However, while the trolls were occupied with me, a battalion of brave Gondor soldiers came in and attacked the trolls from behind, scoring fatal blows and killing them.
Casting a few healing spells on myself and the soldiers, I led them back out to the wall and saw that the enemies had made it up onto the walls and a full-scale battle was being fought. Immediately, I began shooting lightning spells at them from a distance, taking down Orcs and Uruk-hai with one hit each.
I don’t remember exactly how the battle went, but it was won because the black trolls were dead, and because I had gotten so strong in Skyrim.
We celebrated our victory with a buffet of Jell-O treats and Cool Whip.

Um, so I had a dream I was entering this big, big building thing with hay on the floor. It was maze-like.

I was with my family and animated Sleeping Beauty (??????) and then all of a sudden my parents and SB disappeared and I was only with my siblings ;-;

So then my siblings and I were in the far corner/dead-end of the maze which took form of the bedroom we shared at my dad's apartment. So, we had to defeat Maleficent. So I told my siblings to stay in the room while I went out (it had a door) and I saw Maleficent and for some reason I had a baseball bat and I kept wacking her with the baseball bat but she wasn't going down and I was confused because I wanted her to die and then I woke up.

so strange

@EternalRain Sounds like a cool experience to me! Kind of like an adventure dream...I love adventure dreams.

I guess I'm going to share another one. I have loved Orange Fanta ever since I had this dream--not orange soda, not grape fanta, but Orange Fanta. Plus, every time I drink Orange Fanta, I remember this dream and the three friends I made in it. ^_^ It's one of my favorites (and also less than one page)...

"There was an injured black cat on the side of the road. It was hardly a kitten, and although it looked dead, when I picked it up, it half opened its eyes with a weak, “nyaan.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to a vet,” I told it, so I hurried it to the vet’s office, which was a very large and intricate building. The brick stairs near the entrance were strange, as though they were curving around in a circle, and they delayed me in my haste. The vet who took the kitten was a forty-year-old man with short, brown hair and glasses.

Later, I found three vets sitting around a table, waiting for test results on the kitten. The man with glasses was there, along with a woman, and a fat young man who reminded me of the guy from “Paprika”, only not as fat. The fat man said something about wanting Orange Fanta, and I, unasked, jumped up and went to fetch him a can.

When I returned, the man with the glasses said, “You don’t have to serve us.”

I replied, “But I’d like to.”

And so the three vets divided the Fanta among themselves, excited to have it. As it turned out, the librarian-like woman in charge of the sodas never lets them have Orange Fanta, but they really love it.

As they drank the Fanta I had brought them, the fat man asked me to smuggle them a whole box so they would be able to savor it even when I left. Although he obviously wanted more Fanta as well, the man with glasses rebuked the fat man for his request. However, I said it was all right and went to get them a box of Fanta.

Downstairs, I tried to get a box of Orange Fanta, but while I was there, the “soda-library” closed, and the librarian sharply told me to put the Fanta back. I returned to the vets and told them the bad news, but the fat man was so set on getting the Fanta that he decided to sneak down with me and help me get it.

After a lot of trouble from the librarian, we somehow managed to smuggle away the soda without her noticing. However, by then, the man with glasses and the woman (who are now doctors) have gone to get the test results for the “kitten” (who is now the sweet philologist girl who’s making her second appearance in her dreams).

Suddenly, I broke down weeping, fearing for my friend, and covering my eyes. Then I heard the fat man weeping as well, and I looked up in surprise. He told me that he understood what I was going through and related to me his tragic past.

Then we found out that my friend was going to have surgery, and we went to the find the doctor with glasses performing surgery on her while the woman gives another girl a haircut nearby."

I read this as 'dream-shaving'.

I'll show myself out.

I once had a dream that my brother decided to buy some weed. Then, he took it and steeped it as if it were tea and walked around with his weed-tea getting high.

Yeah, that was a weird night. o.o

During a zombie apocalypse, I filled a boat with bananas and just sat in it.

Last night I dreamt that I was in town trying to find a box set of Supernatural and was getting upset because I couldn't find one and I really wanted to watch the next season.

I think this is indicative of the fact I'm going into town to buy it today...

steampowered wrote:Last night I dreamt that I was in town trying to find a box set of Supernatural and was getting upset because I couldn't find one and I really wanted to watch the next season.

I think this is indicative of the fact I'm going into town to buy it today...

I dreamt I kept waking up next to an anthropomorphic bat woman who tried to give me a hug and watch TV. Help me.