My Dreams Disturb Me
All of my life I have had vivid dreams, dreams that have stayed with me. Of places and people I have visited often through the years. I revisit a lot of the same places, I also travel a lot in them. Sometimes it's obvious that I am in another timeline, sometimes I don't know when or where I am. Many of the dreams I remember are scary or traumatic. Is this normal? Here are two I have written down, including one from last night:
I was in a small dilapidated house, it was as if it was up on stilts. It was cold outside and the weird, and disturbed uncle of the family was cooking on a stove. It was one of those large stoves with a large oven. I was in the kitchen which was right next to the oven. I was holding the poor dog by the collar so the family that lived there wouldn't leave without him. The smell in the house began to change, it was almost sickly, and I can't explain it. I watched the two daughters of the family pass by the stove and their expressions changed to one of horror. I never left that way, I knew what he was cooking and escaped with the dog out of the back door in the kitchen. The girls recalled that they saw a large item in the oven and all that poked out from the door was the pinky of a young man. The smell was overwhelming, even now as I write this it still makes me sick. And I am not certain, but what I thought was snow, may have been something else. It was cold but the air smelled of char or burning.
They didn't believe me when I said she was dead, that I knew where her body was, beneath the tiles under the chalkboard. He kept her body in some sort of electronic box where terrible things happened. I didn't know her well, she was an acquaintance but no one deserves what happened to her. He was well respected, quiet, middle-aged with gray curly hair. A professor at the college and I think he killed her. No one believed me, but you'd be amazed how fast people move when told there was a bomb. I was bluffing of course but said that if they didn't dig up the floor along that wall I would blow up the school in "5 minutes." They raced to the classroom, pried up the tiles, pushed past some dirt and rats. The box sat perfectly beneath the plaster. They were shocked as they opened it up to find her remains. The smell was egregious and tore through the air. I almost threw up. But she was found and the professor, arrested.
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