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A Dream I Once Had | J.A
1 year ago · · Dreams,
*I was inspired by others that wrote about their dreams, so I decided to write about one I had myself.*
Honestly, I rarely have nightmares nowadays, well I used to have more as a kid. I remember when I was little, I prayed to God to make me unable to dream, because I was so terrified that I would have a nightmare. For a period of time, I actually stopped remembering my dreams, like as if I never dreamed at all. Though as I got older I started to remember my dreams more often. The dreams I have now, I wouldn't really call them nightmares. Although some of my dreams were creepy, I've never really felt fearful. My dreams were somewhat weird and patched together, like a dream within a dream. However, out of all the dreams I've had, this particular one always stood out.
Really, I've ever experienced anything else like it. I've never had a dream so realistic that it fool me that it was actually real, even after I woke up. I don't remember how old I was, but I was pretty young. I believe it was some time after the prayer I mentioned before. Anyways I don't feel like typing the whole dream again, so here's a personal narrative that I wrote about the dream for school:
Mrs. R. Robertson
Honors English 1
29 January 2021
A Dream I Once Had
When I was younger, I once had a dream that I found so seemingly indifferent, yet in an enthralling way. I’ve had many dreams before; all subsequently diverse from the next and each with their own erratic ways. Dreams never did strike me as odd, since I’ve always thought of them as nothing more than human design and instinct. Thinking about it, nothing about this dream is outlandishly special, though somehow, this particular dream always stood out amongst the rest. It’s quite humorous how dreams are an interesting aspect of the human mind, puzzling and inexplicable, but so easily forgettable. However, I remember this dream quite clearly, well, at least better than most I’ve had.
It took place at my childhood home, which at the time I resided in. I was still young during this time, though I can’t recall my exact age. In my dream, I was awaking to the same room in which I’ve woke up in for many years of my life. As I open my eyes, the light of a late morning reflects upon the white walls; making the room feel bright as ever. As I was still lying, I took in my surroundings. My brother, who I shared a room with, was already awake; I assumed so, glancing at his empty bed lying against the wall to my right. I’ve always slept in late, and I was still contemplating whether I should get up or continue lying down. Being lazy as usual, I was about to rest my eyes for a while longer until I heard two muffling voices from out the hallway. I was aware that my brother was awake, but perhaps my mother was, as well.
Charmed from the welcoming presence of their voices, I was given a sense of keenness to start my morning. Rising up, I peered at the open door of my room which led to the hallway. Getting out of bed hastily, I was looking forward to joining my mom and brother. It wasn’t really their conversation that allured me, but it was more of the fact that they were there together. As I reach the door way, I could see that my mother’s bedroom door was open from across my room. She wasn’t in there, I could tell, because she would usually still be asleep with the door closed shut. Looking back out the hallway, I could hear that their voices were a bit clearer now, but I paid no mind to trying to make out the words.
As I began walking through the hallway, I already had my morning figured out. Heading to the kitchen first, all I wanted was to finish breakfast, then join my mom and brother who were in the living room. Also hoping that I could sneakily get past my responsibilities, if my mother was to be caught up in the conversation and forget. I could see the kitchen doorway straight down the hallway and to the left of it I could see the opening to the living room. My old home wasn’t all that large, a three-bedroom and one-bathroom house, so the kitchen, living, and dining room were all bunched together. The kitchen moved closer, as I inch my way step by step. Everything was going smoothly, all I needed to do then was to head for the kitchen. The sooner I eat breakfast. Step. The sooner I’ll get to see my mom and brother. Step. The sooner I’ll get to lay back and relax. Step. Or so I would’ve thought.
To my surprise, I stopped; halfway down the hallway and I just stopped. Leaving me a bit confused, I tried to move, but no longer could I take another step. It was if I had no control of my own body; I couldn’t move no matter how hard I struggled. Right then and there a realization came me; this wasn’t reality. Nothing that just happened was real; never did I wake up, never did I get out of bed, and never did I hear their welcoming voices. Next thing I remember, I began gradually falling to the ground, as if I just left my physical body. Although, I knew consciously that this was only a dream; it didn’t stop me from calling out their names in hopes for sanctuary.
Still hearing their voices, I called out to them, “Mom. Mom… Momma.”
“Job. Job… Mom,” I continued, distressed. The longer I waited, the longer I yearningly call out their names.
As I lay there, completely helpless, never once did they answer back. Calling out to them again and again, they continued talking amongst themselves, as if I couldn’t be heard. However, it seems as though I was not alone, as I began to hear discomforting whispers looming around me. The whispers were unfamiliar and indistinct, muttering words that I couldn’t distinguish. In midst of these whispers, my world began sluggishly spinning. An unusual feeling, really; the hallway itself wasn’t spinning, but it felt like I could feel the earth rotate upon its axis. At this point, drowned out by the unsettling mumbling, I could no longer distinguish my mother and brother’s warm voices. Chaotic and obscure, perhaps that would best describe what was happening, but in that moment, I felt nothing, left unphased to my surroundings. I gave in to silence, letting the familiar names of my family slip from my tongue. There I lay, and the only thing left for me was the whispers and the last sight of the end of the hallway; so close, yet so far.
My eyes open and I’m lying in the same old bed as if nothing happened. Jolting upwards I check my surroundings once again; the room was bright as it usually is in the mornings, my brother wasn’t in bed, and the door was open. Reminded of the dream, I clung to my pillow for reassurance, and no, I did not pinch myself. Relief, it was good to feel that relief. I wasn’t motivated to do so, but I felt it was the better choice to get up out of bed. Arriving at the doorway, this time my mother’s bedroom door was closed indicating she was still asleep.
As I’m about to head through the hallway I stop; this time to my own accord. For a few brief seconds, I hesitated; I was scared that I haven’t fully escaped that dream. Although, after knocking some common sense into myself, I scurried across the hallway without ever glancing back. Passing by the living room, where my brother was watching tv, I entered the kitchen to prepare cereal for breakfast. While I ate, the dream faded like a distant memory as I continued to go about my day.
Overtime, I eventually forgot about this dream, but as I have matured, I realized that this dream says a lot about myself. My weaknesses, my longings, and my fears that I’ve been ignorant to for quite a while, actually, and only discovered until I started to question life itself; it made me realize the many things in life that I often take granted for. A common thing to say, but you’ll never realize you missed something until it’s gone. At first sight, the dream I had was just an odd nightmare, but looking back on how much I’ve changed, the dream I once had was given much more meaning. Growing up, I was mature for my age; I thought I knew everything and had it all. It was only instances like this that I reminisce on, which have shown me great self-reflection. It’s kind of funny, how something so trivial like a dream can say a lot about a person, however, it’s best not to dote on it. In the end, the past is in the past, and this dream is just a dream, after all.