Plasterface was a...oh hell. I can't describe it. Imagine a child made a man out of clay. Lumpy, no fingers, painted face. his face looked sort of like...oh hell I'll try to draw him in paint.
I'd always think: "Whats beneath the plaster? Whats beneath the plaster?"
Once I'd notice him, he'd switch places with me, and my own skin would start to crack, like dry plaster, until I awoke, or I'd be swallowed within his clay. If I tried to run, he'd chase me, though he could never run. I tried to fight him once, and I broke his skin...but something unspeakable was inside him. I knew that instinctually, and I woke up in a cold sweat as soon as I hit him, the one time I tried.
I tried drinking nyquil until I passed out, and that just meant I couldn't wake up. I tried everything my lucid dreaming books suggested, time and time again. The fireballs, the cages, the teleportation, none had any lasting effect. He'd always be there, watching and waiting.
This lasted...six months.
It was one of the most dark periods of my life. I was an awful person morally and did some of the worst things I've done in my whole life.However, as I became more and more introspective, I theorized that the reason Plasterface was always around was because he was some sort of metaphor for the parts of myself I hated. I decided if I learnt to accecpt that part of myself, things would go back to normal. So the next time I saw him, I embraced Plasterface and kissed him.
He seemed to freak out, flailing his stubby arms, but then he vanished. I haven't seen or heard from him in years.
But recently, I've dreamt of Plasterface again.
But if he was just some part of my psyche...why is he back? That issue was resolved. I don't have any psychological issues. Is he something else, something bigger? No PLASTERFACE ISNT REAL. NO YOU AREN'T REAL.
I've told...a few friends about Plasterface. But honestly, even now just writing about him freaks me out. I haven't thought about him since September, and then only in passing.
Goddam. So there you have it. I'm batshit insane. Goddam I need a cigar.