Date: 18-01-2024

Introduction:

Last night was a really intense night of dream experiences. Most of them were about death, with the exception of the first one, though there was an element of irreversible change, which is what death is too. I don’t remember the first and second one that well. But I do remember what stood out for me. Let me describe them in the order in which I dreamt them all.

Gone:

In this dream I was at mom’s at the house where we all grew up. My sister was there too. Me and my sis were both the adults we are today. My brother, who in the dream lived there again (as in real life), was a younger boy. He was about 12 years of age. The reason he was there was a bit morbid. He had become mentally handicapped. The cause of this was unclear, but there were some hints this “happened” to him. Maybe some kind of accident? Somehow it felt to me like my mother possibly had something to do with it, but in the dream I wasn’t sure if that was just my bias or whether it was complete nonsense. What didn’t help was that my mother was mostly in the way and stalling what we (my sister and I) where there to do. The reason we were there was to say goodbye to the brother we once knew. And it was unmistakable he would never return to his former self. He lived with mom because he wasn’t able to take care of himself now.

Our brother was retarded. My sister and I were there to perform some kind of rituals that would help us move on from this loss. I do not recall what these rituals entailed, just that we had thought of them ourselves, and that they were the spiritual equivalent of “writing a letter and putting it in the casket of the deceased before the burial”. It was a way to help us find closure. Though these rituals we did were weird. I recall my sister balancing two scuba diving tanks on top of each other in her arms, while sitting cross legged on the floor. But our brother was physically alive and still there. And the way he behaved was a mix of what a young 3 year old would do, with the sounds that my father made the last time I saw him alive. The best way to describe that would be to imagine the way Chewbacca from Star Wars “spoke”, meaning short or long bursts of making a single monotone sound. Like he was pretending to be Chewbacca, but without putting in the effort of mimicking his voice itself, only the way he made sounds.

It’s not entirely accurate, but as accurate as I can detail it to anyone without being able to actually mimic what it sounded like with my own voice. Throughout the whole situation my sister was a bit emotional. Not me. I was in some kind of work mode. It had to be done. I facilitated my sister, helped her balance the scuba tanks. My mother was just there. The interaction between us and her was minimal. What was very evident was that she didn’t understand the necessity of what we were doing. In my mind I thought to myself that I wouldn’t be able to explain it to her as in the dream I took it for a fact she has never dealt with or processed her pains and grievances. She just bottled it all up. But I was being an unemotional or emotionally unavailable person myself too. In my mind I just wanted to leave as soon as possible, and thought I’d just help my sis with her rituals, then perform my own as fast as I could to get it over with, and then go home to process it all. I looked at it from a totally unemotional standpoint.

Meanwhile our brother was darting around the living room like a little child, voicing monotone yells and shouts. He would look at what we were doing when passing us by, but would not interact with us at all. He was in his own little world, what ever that was. He did seem happy, though. But then, as I had helped my sister with the scuba tanks and took a step back, I suddenly realised the reality of the situation. It truly suddenly struck me like lightning. My brother was gone. The person with whom I had shared so much fun and sorrow, who understood our form of humour, and who shared his dreams and read my own, the person who I shared a room with as we were little and who moved to the attic into the adjacent room years after I slept there alone, who was my attic neighbour for many years, who would agree with me on some things, and argue with me on others, the person that was there for me when I needed him and for who I would be there if he needed me, was gone. He was really gone.

He was no longer in there. His living being was a shell of the person he once was. It truly struck me out of nowhere. Like my waking mind kicked open the door and shook the subconscious driver at the wheel to face the reality of the situation. I fell to my knees and put my hands over my eyes, and held back my tears. “He’s gone. He’s gone.” I repeated that in a whispering voice a few times. I tried to remain the big guy for a few seconds as to not lose face in front of my mother and sister, until I suddenly didn’t care any more, and just broke out in tears. Almost immediately after I had chosen to let go of my ego, I woke up. My eyes were actually teary and my cheeks were wet.

Goodbye:

This dream was truly bizarre. It was short, also, though perhaps it was much longer, but the rest must’ve escaped being captured by my conscious mind. The premise was simple. I was dying. I laid on the ground. D was with me. She was sitting on the ground with her legs straitened out in front of her. My head rested upon her upper legs. She looked at me, and I looked at her as I looked up. I don’t remember where we were. All I know is that it was outside, somewhere. And I just looked her in the eyes. Her eyes were teary but she smiled at me, while stroking my hair and cheeks softly with her hand. It was peaceful. Her smile would sometimes combat a sad frown. She was very sad to see me go, but she didn’t want me to see her pain. I could see it in her eyes. I just knew it.

She would sacrifice her own feelings just to give me a peaceful moment of passing. And I thought to myself, I would do my best to stay with her as long as I could, even in death. I set my mind to becoming her guardian angel. We had locked eyes for a long moment, until a sunbeam appeared out of the clouds and landed on my face. It felt nice and warm. It was very pleasant. I looked away from D into the sun, squinting my eyes. It had a warm colour. But then I saw details in the sunbeam. The light became brighter, but as it became brighter I was less blinded by it. And before I knew it, a tunnel of light appeared. “I’ve been here before.” I thought to myself. And in an instant, I allowed myself to be taken into it, and immediately woke up.

When I woke up though, I felt so much shame. Maybe even a little scared. The mindset I had just before dying, to stay with D for as long as I could, evaporated like water on burning stove the instant the tunnel took me. It was there, and the next moment it was gone. I had completely forgotten about her the moment that tunnel appeared, and the thought afterwards while I was in my waking live, of her staying behind with my physical remains just kills me. It was such a horrible thought. I don’t want to leave her behind, but if death forces me I thought I’d be missing her over there too. As I laid there in bed, next to her, I felt guilty, and ashamed. The dream was still so fresh, that it felt to me like I had abandoned some version of her, who was now alone to cope with her loss of me and who was now tasked the impossible; to bury her loved one. I wish I could go back to her to tell her I’m okay.

But besides this feeling of guilt, I also woke up with a date. That date was in my mind vividly, but because of the shame and guilt, I started recalling it while it was fleeting my mind again. What I do remember, I memorised. Though I will not name it here, I have it written down somewhere. I don’t know the year, only that it possibly ends with 9. Could be 2029, could be later. But I am really not sure. I am sure however about the month and day, and even a timestamp of 6 PM. It felt like it was not too far into the future. I do not know if this was the date this happens, or another day of significance. It did seem important. Though I am convinced this is not for you to know, but only for D.

Where are you:

We were going out to eat. My sister had arranged it. Our family was complete, including dad. We were all much younger, except maybe me. After dinner we would see a movie. My sister wasn’t sure if the place was nice and if the movie was any good. I said the reviews were mixed so it’s probably not a master piece but we’d enjoy ourselves. The restaurant turned out to be a crappy small shed. Inside was a counter, manned by one person, and kitchen which could barely fit two people was manned by two. Outside in front of the shed stood a few wooden picnic tables. I suggested we could of course just cancel here and eat somewhere a little more fancy. My sister didn’t want to switch. We sat outside on a picnic bench. There was another family, consisting of three people, seated at another table. I was joking with them about the place’s lack of class, cause they were complaining about how it was advertised as a much fancier place.

At one point I had to really take a leak. The shed didn’t have one, but there was a playground over on the other side of the dirt road the shed was located at. The playground was grassy, had swings and slides, and a sandpit. Your typical playground. On the edge of the grass was a toilet building, which was a facility put there for parents who’d spend a day there. It was quite big. Inside the building were showers, baths, vanity units, and sinks to was your hands. It was quite luxurious. The interior was polished marble stone and hard wood. I couldn’t find the toilet though. Then I saw another door. It lead into a shower room. I opened it and it was such a big contrast to the luxury that greeted me upon entry. It stank, and it was all grey, with shower units against the wall, without any privacy covers. There was one single drain in the middle. And perhaps most telling; there were puddles of what clearly was pee all over the place.

Apparently everybody before me had taken the same route, unable to find a toilet in this toilet building, and ending up peeing here. It made me gag, but I mustered my will and tried to breathe through my shirt. I peed straight into the drain. It kept coming. I felt no relief. It just kept coming and coming. At one point I heard people come in and audibly question where the toilet was at. It would be a matter of seconds before they would come in, and I didn’t want them to think I peed all over the walls and floor. So I stopped and went back to the nicer part of the building, quickly washed my hands, and went back outside. I don’t even think the other people saw me. I went back to my family, but as I had walked half way across the field of grass I realised I had forgot my phone. I had put it down on the sink counter when I washed my hands. Shit!

I rushed back to the toilet building, but I was stopped by an invisible force, pulling me back. It became increasingly more difficult to close the distance, until I walked on all fours. Still I couldn’t get any momentum, and looked back behind me. All I remember is darkness. It held me. It had no form, no features, nothing. If I said it looked like a cloud or void, that would still be way too specific and therefore inaccurate. It was nothingness. In front of me was the world in the dream as it was, and behind me was nothing, trying to hold me down. And the most disturbing thing actually was that I recall thinking to myself: “Damn it, this again…” This again? Now that I am awake while typing this, I wonder what I meant. In the dream it was a recurring thing apparently. When I thought it, I meant it. It had happened before. Maybe in another dream which I do not remember in the state of mind I am in while writing this? And yet I thought it.

But regardless of what I thought, I didn’t give up. I looked back at my destination and tried to go there still. I was in a bit of a panic, but strangely enough not even because of that darkness at my feet, which apparently was unwanted but not that strange. No, I was in a bit of a panic because the people who had entered the toilet building didn’t look too honest to me and I didn’t want them to take my phone. This is seriously how I felt. The darkness thing was mildly annoying somehow, though thinking back to it I cannot understand how I could’ve taken that so lightly. In the dream I couldn’t break free, so I turned to one of my signature moves in the dream world: Teleportation. I imagined myself going to that place, and going inside, and taking my phone from the sink counter.

And I succeeded and didn’t succeed at the same time. It was like I split reality in two, and in one reality I broke free, but not in the other, but my consciousness remained in the twilight of that split. I was free and not free at the same time. Though in the reality where I broke free I took my phone and put it in my pocket, and from there the darkness faded. I was now back in the dream situation. And as quick as the situation turned, I forgot about what had happened like it was magically snapped out of my conscious mind. I went back to the shed. Considerable time had now passed and I went to find my family. They were no longer sitting at the table, so I figured they had moved on to the theatre, which was also near the shed.

I think I went down a stairs into a basement under the shed to find a cinematic enterprise of sorts. Muffled bombastic music sounded from behind the doors. The movie was well underway, and it was about dinosaurs chasing dinosaurs, while pickup truck with the protagonists drove along side them on a dirt road with big trees along the side of the road between the field where the large reptiles ran and the road. The CGI was so incredibly perfect that I wondered whether or not this could actually be real. It became so real that eventually it came true. We (the family) were inside that pickup truck, while big brown coloured predatory dinosaurs hunted and killed big greenish herbivores. It was very graphic. Scary even, cause although the predators did not really seem interested in us, it was evident that if they were we had no chance at all. 

It got so scary in fact, I actually woke up in the dream in my old house. I went downstairs and found mom in the living room with my aunt on my dads side. They were sitting at the coffee table in the back of the room, talking. Mom pored me a cup of tea. My aunt noted I looked a little pale. I told her I had a few intense dreams, and one predicted my death. As I told her, I didn’t realise I was still inside the third dream. My mother confirmed to her I have these prophetic dreams sometimes. My aunt didn’t really seem to want to hear what I had to say, and seemed to listen reluctantly because of the gravity of the subject in the dreams. I eventually landed on the dream I was having, still, with the eating dinner and movie, and suddenly detailing how some dark entity without any features tried to stop me from doing what I was doing. I suddenly realised how completely insane that was, and must admit I experienced a fair amount of self-pity. I stared at the table, and softly asked: “Why do these dreams keep happening to me?”

My mother and aunt both had nothing to say, and just sat there, awkwardly. But I got distracted by the sound of a dinosaur outside somewhere in the distance. I left the table to check it out, ran upstairs and looked. From the attic I could see a T-Rex crying out over something. Perhaps something from the movie, where its partner was killed by us? I went downstairs and exited the house through the backdoor. Outside in the garden I still heard the dinosaur cry out. It sounded a bit like a whale song, but not peaceful or blissful at all, as those tend to be. No, this sounded quite menacing. Like an evil whale, if that makes sense. The dream now merged itself again with elements that had separated it first. I went back inside, and exited again through the front door. My brother came with me. Our little niece was there too, but she remained inside as we kept the door slightly opened.

But mom closed it behind us, in a typical “we’re not heating the neighbourhood” fashion, as if these weren’t circumstances where this would not apply, cause there was a freaking dinosaur outside. So a bit aggravated we knocked, cause we hadn’t a key with is. Mom ignored us, but our little niece was able to open the door for us. We quickly took the key (which was actually the key I have for my own backdoor in my own house) and closed the door behind us as we went outside again. We went around the house, but the T-Rex was near, much nearer than we thought. We went around the corner and saw it. There was also another large predator. It was a little darker brown in colour. As soon as they spotted us, they both charged at us. We bolted back towards the house in a panic, and we fled back inside, barely in time for them to not see which way we went.

Now the house seemed empty, like we were the only ones in it now. The dinosaur appeared on the driveway. We could see its distorted image through the stained windows of the front door. My brother panicked, but I knew what to do. In a split second, I grabbed him, pulled into the kitchen, and hid ourselves under the kitchen counter. There were bottles and other kitchen stuff on the counter which allowed me to risk a peek over the counter through the kitchen window. The large head of predator appeared, and it darkened the kitchen. It was scary as fuck! But my brother wouldn’t sit still. I kept insisting he shouldn’t move, in a whispering voice as not to make too much noise, with the dinosaur still investigating the interior of the house through the kitchen window. But my brother just didn’t listen. It was like he kind of wanted to be caught or something. Yet, he was visibly scared too. And with good reason, as there was a seven foot long head with teeth the size of milk bottles eyeing the kitchen through the window. It was so scary.

Eventually, both dinosaurs moved on. Then our dad appeared to the scene as he walked into the kitchen. He saw me and M cowering on the ground, and he started laughing, and asked what we were doing. We told him about the dinosaurs. He laughed some more, and insisted they aren’t dangerous. My brother and I got up, and went to the front door. In the distance of our street we saw the two predators looking for us still. We ever so gently opened the door. At the sound of the door opening they looked up and turned their heads towards us, and came charging at us again. We again closed the doors but the terror lizards did not give up this time and broke the kitchen window. I woke up in a bit of a panic. I had to pee like a horse, by the way.