Old, Recurring Dream

Old, Recurring Dream

A Story by Onatah
"

This is based on a terrifying and recurring dream I used to have as a child.

"

This is based on a recurring dream I used to have whenever I was very young.

 

 

     The dream started in a swamp. I was being rowed through a mucky swamp in the middle of the night. I can’t remember a face or a figure, but someone was rowing, steadily and consistent. I don't remember asking where we were heading, and he didn't seem interested in telling me. I suppose it was none of his business; at least that's what I got from him.

 

     The swamp was curiously absent of the moon and her light, and had solid blackness that would be more fitting for the abyss. The only light was an dim and eerie glow from the amber stained gothic bay windows, which cut through the choking void of blackness like a heavy knife. I could see that the structure was formed over the swamp, while the windows hung over the water which was still as ice, aside from the splitting wake from the small rowboat. I could see the water now that we were in the light. It was dreadful water that I didn’t want to meet. I felt as if it wanted to swallow me. I kept in the boat. How I arrived into the room is such a blur now, like it was so long ago, years ago. There was some kind of exchange, with me and tall, lanky looking men; if they were men at all. I could not remember their expressions, but perhaps that is because they had none; at least not obviously, or in the way that we might express it. But I could feel an impending hatred from them.

 

     I’ll recall to a moment a little further where my memory is more intact. I had arrived in the room; the one with the amber stained bay windows. Yes, the bay windows. Set up all around the windows were a few dozen candles, which reflected the amber into the room, giving it an eerie amber glow. The room looked as if it hadn’t been refurnished in a hundred years. The entire room was carpeted, and the carpet seemed to stick to my feet. It had an old record player up against the left wall when facing the windows. Along the walls were bookshelves and desks, with various things scattered around them. In the center, nearest to me was a cheap wooden table with lots of contractions that I couldn’t understand. Farther into the room, facing the bay windows, there were two fancy comfort chairs. In between them was a fashioned liquor table with a few half empty glasses of liquor and whiskey.

 

     As I was pushed into the sight of the two armchairs, I quickly realized that they were not vacant. I looked up at them, terrified. One man I did not recognize at all, but he appeared to recognize me. The other man was vaguely familiar. My grandfather? I have no idea what he was doing here. I had never seen him as a child (as far as I can remember), and I had no affiliation with him. He frowned at me with displeasure, and the other figure had some kind of expression I didn't understand. As was most of this; a grand illusion of confusion. This is all I can remember of this terrifying event. I can't even pinpoint what was so terrifying. It was as if terror itself was building up from inside of me.

© 2011 Onatah


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It's always interesting to see dreams down in prose format. The way our mind weaves together the story as we sleep is always so different to our conscious thoughts.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Wow! What a captivating story! I really liked the fact that you hadn't changed anything from when you wrote it, as it added a real sense of rawness and believability to the story. The way you worded the story and described the scene was amazing, and as the reader, I felt myself being transported straight into your dream. I thought that your style of writing was really unique, and that as a whole, this piece was truly immaculate. The last sentence was a fantastic way to end the piece! Nice work,
~PaperHearts

Posted 8 Years Ago


This was really great, I loved the imagery you used. It gave you a good description of the place you were in and I could picture it almost perfectly.
I also like the fact that you started off by writing about something that you experienced and then added stuff onto it. I always find doing things like that make writing somewhat more personal.
Overall, I really enjoyed this!

Posted 8 Years Ago


I liked this. It's been written really well, and I think it could be made much longer if you kept the story as a dream, but have it as a part of another story. To me, rather than fiction, it reads like you're just telling me about a dream. I hope I'm making sense, I hope this doesn't sound too confusing, but I liked the style quite a lot, well done.

Posted 8 Years Ago


I'm glad you didn't rewrite this; that you kept it in its first and only draught. I too have had a recurring dream since I was about 5 years of age but of course its vastly different, but I can relate to the feeling of cringing now when seeing that shade of yellow. Except for me it is other subtle things that remind me. Anyway, perhaps you held some sort of vendetta with your grandfather, blamed him for whatever caused the loss of contact betwen you two or maybe you have a tiny ball of regret that makes you want to meet him, at least just to cure curiousity. Of course I really have no idea about your personal life and I could be completely off base and porbably am, but I'm just voicing my thoughts!

Posted 8 Years Ago


not sure kinda strange seems like you had lota demons you was dealing with in your lif i don't mean spiritually i mean problems i don't have as many night mares but if i do it's warnings from god or a message some times it's the devil messing with my head but don't have many night mares from the devil any more. thats what i think other then that it's pretty creepy

Posted 8 Years Ago



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Added on July 7, 2010
Last Updated on January 13, 2011
Tags: dream


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