Dream Memories

Do you ever have dreams that give you false memories? Something happens in a dream, and you remember it, it can be as inconsequential as an imaginary episode of your favorite TV show, or an important childhood memory that should have completely changed your life. I started having a series of dreams like this.

In the dream, I was in a small house in the middle of a huge, empty field. I was just standing in the living room of the house, thinking. I had memories of myself in the house, decades ago, I was remembering something from when I was 2 or 3. I was in the house, I heard pounding on the door. I didn't know where my parents were, I was terrified, crying. The pounding got louder and louder, and eventually the door crashed down, and I woke up.

A few nights later, I had the dream again. I was in a dark, locked room, at my current age. I couldn't get out, and started thinking back to that imaginary day from my childhood. It picked up where the last memory stopped, someone had just entered the room. He was waving a huge knife, shouting something I couldn't understand.

I tried to run, I ran to a door on the other side of the room, but no matter how hard I tried my hands kept slipping on the handle and I couldn't get the door open. The man with the knife kept screaming something I couldn't understand, and started walking towards me. I was too scared to move at this point, and the dream ended when the man was standing right in front of me, and had just raised his knife.

I wanted to talk to someone about these dreams, but there was something holding me back, some kind of fear that I couldn't explain. I didn't do anything, and soon, I had yet another dream. I was sitting in a chair, completely restrained. My memory returned to that day from my childhood. Again, it picked up right where the previous dream had ended.

The man stabbed me, I felt pain, more pain than I ever had in a dream. He kept stabbing, and soon I was floating above the room, looking down at my dead body. He kept stabbing, long after I had died, and I couldn't do anything but watch. This went on for hours, and then I finally woke up. I was too scared to keep this to myself any longer, and told someone.

It's amazing the kind of tricks your mind can play on you. I told a friend about the dreams about a year ago. They told some other people, people very interested in the dream. I stupidly told them all the details of the dream, if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would have happened, and I wouldn't be locked up, and about to die. It turned out my dream was true, except for one little detail. I should have known my dream wasn't possible, but like I said, dreams have a way of making you believe anything.

I hate dreams, the solution was so obvious, but I was blinded by my "memories." I hate myself, hate my subconscious. I would have been free, wouldn't have even had the guilt, but my dreams changed that. All they had to do was make me forget which one I was that night.

(This story is credited to a person called KI Simpson.)