Preisha Writes

The dreamcatcher demanded a space above my bed. It commanded me to place it exactly in the middle, with no seeable margin or error.

I had received the demanding dreamcatcher from an old woman on the street, she was eager to be rid of it. She said, “I’ll be glad to be rid of this, it’s caught enough nightmares.”

I shrugged and took it home, and it immediately demanded the space above my bed.

It was a struggle to move the 2003 Dresden Dolls poster overhead my headboard, but the dreamcatcher demanded I did so.

The 2003 Dresden Dolls poster from then on lived behind the cardboard boxes in my pantry.

The first night I spent with the demanding dreamcatcher was unordinary. I had hoped there would be a difference, although looking back a free used dreamcatcher would most likely be retired to the trash bin in anyone else’s home.

Every day, the demanding dreamcatcher demanded I dust it. Eventually the demands increased in difficulty, and I finally had enough when it demanded I rearrange my bedroom so it could bask in the sunlight longer.

I went into the street and decided to continue the cycle, like in the films. I caught the arm of a pedestrian, sticking out the demanding dreamcatcher toward her. “Here, it’s a used dreamcatcher. Completely free. Lovely to have in your bedroom.” The pedestrian peered through her glasses at me. “If you say so. Thanks.”

From then on, I slept with a slightly crumpled 2003 Dresden Dolls poster above my headboard, without having to meet the demands of a demanding dreamcatcher.