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Found 61 dreams containing screw - Page 6


Explore a collection of the latest dreams shared by our community. Discover common themes, intriguing narratives, and unique symbolism. From vivid adventures to thought-provoking scenarios, these recent dreams offer a glimpse into the subconscious mind and may even spark insights into your own dream world. Browse the "Latest Dreams" to find inspiration, connect with others, and delve deeper into the fascinating realm of dreams.

I was looking in the back of my van when apporached by a black man with his jacket over his face. I thought it was a joke until I noticed the knife in his hand. He demanded what was in my mouth; I had placed a screw in it before being apporached. I started to cry and noticed another man trying to get into the van. This guy yelled at me and placed a gun to my head. The guy holding me moved me away from him; when he turned me around I noticed a guy walking by looking at us and I mouthed Help but he just kept walking. This made the one holding me mad and he pressed the knife to my side and squeezed me tight and was yelling at me.

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I was looking in the back of my van when apporached by a men with his jacket over his face. I thought it was a joke until I noticed the knife in his hand. He demanded what was in my mouth; I had placed a screw in it before being apporached. I started to cry and noticed another man trying to get into the van. This guy yelled at me and placed a gun to my head. The guy holding me moved me away from him; when he turned me around I noticed a guy walking by looking at us and I mouthed Help but he just kept walking. This made the one holding me mad and he pressed the knife to my side and squeezed me tight and was yelling at me.

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I was in an abandoned building with Mohammed Alsharif and this couple (whom I don't actually know but I seemed to know in the dream). The four of us were going to go somewhere and I ended up outside in the car (a yellow convertible) with the couple. The guy was driving and he started to drive off without Mohammed. I protested and the guy said something to the effect of 'screw him' and then said, 'He shouldn't lag behind.' I got highly offended and demanded we go back. The guy refused; I argued; he refused. So, I told him to let me out. He woudn't. So, we argued about that until I told him this was kidnapping and got my phone out to call the police. I was deposited on a dark, rain-slicked skid row street. It was very dark and I started to walk back to the apartment to find Mohammed. I got to the upstairs doorway - a kind of doorway without a door to a landing with cracked and abused plaster, the cement floors covered in dust and debris - and he was there. "I'm so sorry, I said. "No problem," he shrugged in classic Mohammed fashion. "No, it's terrible. They were going to leave without you." "It's okay." Again, quintessential Mohammed casual shrug. "They're assholes. I'm so sorry. What should we do now?" I asked, thinking we would make alternate plans for the night out. He smiled in a cute, coy way and blushed as he shrugged his shoulders. I got the hint and smiled and blushed and looked down at my shoes. As I looked back up, he put his arms around my neck - very gently, very shyly - and leaned over to kiss me. It was gentle at first, but as I became more receptive, he got bolder. At one point, I gave a little whimper while he was kissing me and lips still on mine, he smiled and repeated my whimper mockingly. In this torrent of polite and demure passion, the boldest I could force myself to be was to press a hand to his chest. His hands never ventured beyond the back of my neck.

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