Date: 10-06-2015
Last night I dreamt I was in the living room at my parents’ house with my brother. It was late in the evening/night. The curtains weren’t drawn, and outside in the cloudless sky we saw occasionally a light pass over really high in the sky. We stood in front of the window and looked. The lights were coming from black triangular spaceships, which were flying over from all directions. We kept looking in front of the window, trying to point them out. The flyovers became more frequent and the altitude of them also lowered.
It became a bit scary when they flew over just about twice the height of our house, using search light to evidently scan the ground. We were pretty sure it wasn’t us the were looking for, though. It was a scary sight nevertheless, like it was kind of a show of power. The search intensified, and now we also saw aliens walking in our street. We ducked behind the flowers in the window. A few times a small companion of three aliens would pass by right in front of the window, and we were quite scared.
They were tall, taller than most humans. I’d say about 7 feet. And very thin. Big heads, big black eyes. I’m going to say they had green skin, but I am not 100% sure of that. But they smiled. Genuine smiles. They looked quite friendly, actually. We were now just hiding more like children playing a game of hide while their parents were doing chores in the yard. Now we also saw old planes fly over, but they were crashing. They were white water planes, like the Catalina from the second world war. We saw them streak across the sky trailed by big black plumes of smoke. They crashed beyond the horizon with a loud bang.
In this dream I was able to fly. Perhaps it was an astral thing or perhaps this reality was an astral reality, but I could fly and went up to get a better look, and I did so by phasing right through the ceiling and the roof of the house. I wanted to know what was going on. Were these planes crashing thanks to these aliens? I had wings now, but to fly I used some kind of upwards telekinetic powers. It made a buzzing sounds, much like the sound my powers made in a previous dream. I went up to the clouds and observed. In the distance I saw another plane fly into the area. It was in working condition. I kept my eye on it.
Suddenly, out of no where, its tale blew up, and it started to descend in a crash landing, exactly like with the other planes. A plume of smoke followed it. I still was none the wiser what caused this explosion. Was this the quest of these aliens? I kept following the crashing plane until it was really tiny, after which I saw a big flash, followed by a delayed bang, while a fireball rose from the crash site. I somehow realised I knew some of the people onboard that plane, but also realised it was their time. It was weird, but I was quite at peace with my sudden loss.
Suddenly I was back in the living room with my brother. The window was now much closer to the street, as if there was no front yard. I explained to my brother I had not discovered what was going on up there, but detailed what I had seen. Now another alien appeared near the window. He was searching, just like the other aliens, but he saw us. And then he spoke to us. I do not remember the exact flow of the conversation, but I vaguely recall he wanted to know what it was we had seen. The language he used was also foreign to me and my brother, but somehow we understood it still.
The message of this alien was over all a friendly one. It meant us no harm. It explained that the things that were going on out there had nothing to do with us. But it insisted we had to stop watching now. “You’ve seen some interesting things, but it’s time to stop. You’ve seen enough.” The things that were going to happen now, we were not allowed to see. It wasn’t forceful or menacing. It wasn’t intimidative. Maybe it was about a worry of our well being? But it was unmistakable this was none negotiable. We had to close the curtains and go into the house. And we did.
We walked up the stairs. Mom and dad were probably a good few hours into their sleep. My brother was being clumsy, and that made a little too much noise for my taste. Our parents used to get mad if we awoke them in the middle of the night. My brother ignored me when I whispered my concerns about his noise level. He had to go to the toilet, and he closed the door of the toilet quite roughly, producing even more sound. The door lock was loud, he was peeing standing up and aiming audibly directly into the water, making even more sound, pushed the flush button all the way down, hard, so the entire reservoir would empty.
Door open, door close, all done in such a manner it seemed to me he wanted them to wake up. I wasn’t feeling like having to stomach another one of those confrontations with them, but it was too late. I heard noise in their bedroom. Mumbling and one of them getting out of bed. It sounded like dad was the one who was going to appear out of their room. I ninja’d up to my old room in the attic, but left the door open slightly so I could hear and see the confrontation between my dad and brother that was about to occur. And it was a bad one. My brother stood his ground well, but he got a few nasty reproaches hurled to him. He was a bad son, disrespectful, unthankful.
M told our dad he knew dad had lied about something, telling my brother he decided to take him under his wing after my brother had suffered a nervous breakdown, but it was in fact my effort that convinced my dad to not abandon my brother to his own fate. But my dad didn’t budge emotionally when my brother told him he was found out. I would’ve predicted this, as this was typical. In stead he became vicious, and his face turned demonic. He looked over his shoulder and scanned the darkness of the attic for my presence.
I was completely calm though. But I felt a discussion in the making between my dad and me where he would tell me “what really happened” but he would just be trying to convince himself through me, and I didn’t feel like having another “you’re wrong, no you’re wrong” kind of argument with him. It would be pointless. I had honestly told M what had happened, and it gave him the context of truth to our fathers’ claims. So, I shut the door when I saw my dad had seen me, and was speeding up the stairs, truly like a demonic entity, on all fours.
I locked it and he immediately started banging on the door with his fists in complete rage. “OPEN UP! I WANT TO FIGHT YOU! I WANT TO FIGHT YOU AND I WANT TO WINNNNNN!” I was still so inexplicably calm, and I just sighed. I didn’t reply. Suddenly I had this realisation: “Wait a second? I no longer live here! I have my own place!” And just like that, I opened the huge attic window, and I flew home to my new house.
Analysis:
This was one of the more weirder dreams I’ve had in a while. I have no idea what the bit with the aliens and the crashing planes was about. The part of my dad I think showed me an old dynamic that was there in that house which I desire to part with. I think this dream is a way for me to understand why I want to part with it. It’s bad for everyone.
