My dream Journal

This is for the Dream contest, and since I constantly have vivid dreams will write of my own dreams.

Saturday, 1st of July,2017

    

 My name is Maria, and this is my diary of dreams.  From a young age, up till now, I have always had vivid, dreams, that seem so real, yet are not.  Some dreams are mixed with traumas that I have faced in person, in the past, and others, are repetitive, and I tend to see family members and or people that I have met at some point in my life, in these dreams as well.  Ok, so on to the dreams in itself. This was just a short introduction, to my diary.

...........................................................................

Tuesday, 4th of July,2017

  Last night, it returned, once again. That haunting dream, in which I cannot do a thing, but just watch, how it all unfolds.  See, just as a quick, mini background, my dad, raped me when I was 3, and sexually abused me until the age of 6.  After that he stopped, and started spreading rumors of some mind sickness that I had and to not believe a word I said.  So, way before, I confronted this part of my past, I had no clue, since I had managed to forget what had happened. Yet, I still had haunting dreams such as the one, I am about to relate to you.

    I am in some type of house, and its dark, and cold inside.  The walls are bare and the paint seems to be peeling off them.  It smells as if this room, has not seen light of day, for many years and the bed is in disarray.  My dad is talking to me, and I am sitting next to him, in close proximity.  Nothing seems out of place, at least, at the start, I am ok, I do not feel threatened.  

   And then a door opens, on the left side of the room and my mother walks in. She looks splendid and healthy and so young.  I almost fall of the bed, trying to reach her, and give her a big hug, but my dad stops me.  He placed his arm, in front of me, and asks her to leave us be, and she tells him that his dinner is getting cold, and that I need to get to bed.  She looks at me, and in her eyes, I see this fear, as well as anguish, as if she knew all along, what he was doing to me.  She was trying to rescue me, in the best way possible, but my father, was not yielding at all. He ordered her out of the room, and she left.  After that my heart started hammering, and I started to shiver, in rage and anger, and as I try to rebuff him, for kicking my mom out like that, he tells me that he had to do that, for my own good. ¨I need to teach you a lesson, mi hija, so be quiet, and let me finish.¨  This he says in such a gentle manner, that I concede to let him continue on in his talk.  And as he does, his left hand starts touching my face, and he tells me that I must learn to obey him, and as his hand slides down to my chest, I start to slide off the bed, but for some reason or the other, my arms, are not cooperating, and I cannot lift my hands up, in order to move his hand away.  His face starts changing, and his eyes turn black as coal, and then red.  His smile turns from friendly, to evil, and his skin, starts to move, as if something underneath is trying to get out. I try to scream, but nothing comes out, and I try to tell him to stop, and my voice is forced out.  And he just laughs and laughs.  I awake, covered in cold sweat, and a pressure near my chest. I look at the time and its 3am, sharp.  My heart is still beating and I look around the room, to make sure no one else is in the room aside from my daughter who is deep asleep, on the other side of the room.  And I put on music, and try to get back to sleep, and hope to not dream anything else, for that night.

      And so, today is the 4th of July, and we are going downtown, to D.C. for the fireworks show.  Hopefully I can put my mind at ease and forget about this horrid dream.

...........................................................................

Monday, 10th of July, 2017

      Well, its been a couple of days.  Yet, rest assured I do dream, almost daily, but some dreams are not bad, and are good. Yet last night, once again I was haunted from my past. 

         This time around, I was in a big house, and it was full of family.  My daughter was even there.  We were celebrating something, but not sure what.  My mom was present, once again, and this time, I was able to get near her, and gave her a big hug, and told her how much I missed her. She looked at me tenderly and told me it was going to be ok.  I still remember her smell and touch.  Eventually, I was helping serve food, and was sent to the kitchen.  My dad was standing near the fridge, talking as always, and asked that I help him get something out. So I got near him, but was careful to not touch him, and reached for the bottle he was pointing to. As I turned around to hand the bottle over, he moved his hand slightly and brushed the side of my breast.  I shuddered and dropped the bottle.  It was a mess. He started screaming and calling me clumsy, and I ended up screaming as well, and told him to never touch me again.  His eyes grew wide, and he said that I was crazy.  My daughter came into the kitchen, and told him to leave me alone.  He laughed and left.  After that, we were put in trucks to go somewhere. And my daughter ended up, being put in the same truck as my dad.   I did not like this arrangement and tried getting her to come with me. But I was told that he had stated he was her father.  She was standing with her back against one side of the pick up, and my dad was standing in front of her, not letting her move.  Well, I lost my cool and told everyone, that could hear, that he was not her father, much less her grandfather, and that what he really was, was her rapist and my abuser as well. And that I had allowed him too much access to her.  As I said this, my daughter started crying and my father laughed and made a face, as if saying, ¨See I told you she was crazy*, and he turned and started to touch my daughter, and I awoke, once again, covered in cold sweat, and a beating heart. I actually turned on the light, and made sure he was not in our room, and saw my daughter, sleeping quietly.  I went over to her bed and covered her back up and looked down at her as tears fell down over my own face.  

        See, to this day, I am not sure, if he did abuse her or not, as I do not have any solid proof aside from my own daughters behavior towards him.  And I do not want to even think that he ended doing the same to her, as he did to me.  

...........................................................................

Tuesday, 25th of July,2017

         Hi there, once again, its me. Yep, had another scary dream.  One that I have had before, but for some reason, this time around, things were more visible.

I hate even talking of it, but feel I should talk about it, in order to overcome what it brings deep within my heart.

         I am back in my old, childhood home, and my mom, is so young and beautiful.  She and my older brother, are sitting at the top of a staircase. He is wearing his favorite, blue pjs, and my mom is wearing a nightgown, and has her face covered in some type of cream.  She motions me to come up, and I do.  As I reach them both. My brother looks at me, and he seems surprised to seeing me all grown up.  He is no more than 5 years old.  He looks towards a door, that is at the top of the stairs, as it is slightly opened.  My mom smiles at me, and looks at me, with such a sad face, that I ask her, what is wrong?  She as my brother, looks at the door, and looks back at me.  And it hits me, right then and right there. I start shivering and my heart starts racing, as my ears open up to sounds, that I never thought to hear ever again, in my life.

         I could hear the sound of a bed, creaking, and moving.   The floor was covered in a dark red, colored carpet. And I could hear, a child, moaning in pain, and whimpering in fear.  ¨No, daddy, no, please no, stop, mommy, stop!*, and as I hear this child, I realize that it is me, inside the room, with my father, as he raped me.  And the door opened up, on its own accord, and I could see, his back, as he was moving in and out, and his grunting and panting, were so cold.  I shuddered and looked at my mom, and told her to go and stop him, but she would look away from me, and shake her head, side to side, and quietly whispered, ¨I am so sorry, but I cannot go in there.*  And my brother would stare at the door, and have this dazed look on his face.  I felt for him, and understood, that my mother feared for my brother as well.

        As I looked back to the room, my fathers back was arching, and all of a sudden a pair of black, wings, tore out from his back, and started flapping hard, as he was getting ready to cum.... I screamed and tried running towards the room to stop him, but never reached the door.

      I awoke, and felt sore, in my backside, and had bruises forming on my forearms.  I felt chilled and dead at the same time. I turned the lights on, and made sure we were alone.  And I cried and wept my heart out, as I knew that what I had seen, was the actual rape.  And I made sure to not wake my daughter up and wept my heart out to God.

...........................................................................

Thursday, 31st of July, 2017

        Its me again. I know its been a few days, but see, am not sure, if this is really helping me or not.  So decided to have a mini break.  Dreams come always, no matter what I do or do not do.  And if they are good dreams, I tend to sleep fine.  Yet, once again, last night, I had another dream, that was weird yet daunting as well.  So here I go, once again, submerging you into my own dream.

         We were running, from something or someone, and by we, I mean a group of people.  Children, couples, and elderly, were all grouped together, running from something.  I was the leader of this group, and I had a radio on me, that I used to communicate with others.  We were underground, running through some tunnels, looking for a cave.  The children, were tired and thirsty, while the elderly, were trying to do the best in keeping up. We had some make shift beds made for the ones that could not run at all, and the children under the age of 3, could take turns in getting a ride on these beds too.

          Our food supply was very limited, but we still had some provisions, enough to last us up to a week.  I was wounded on my right shoulder and this young man, was treating my wound.  Eventually a call came through the radio, that we had been spotted and needed to move on over to another place.  So we grabbed our things and started running again.  And just like that, I find myself in a different room, full of more people. And everyone is scared of something.  All of a sudden, I hear my mother calling me, by name and I start looking for her. 

            I see her on the ground, huddled over someones body, as a man is standing up, holding a knife, covered in blood. As I get near, I can see, that the man is my dad, and my mom is cowered in fear, begging him to stop.  And as I pay attention to who is on the ground, my heart stops.  I cannot believe my eyes, and out of no where, a rage comes up, from within and I throw myself against my father, and grab the knife and start killing him, but no matter how hard I stab him, he is still standing, and smiling. While on the ground, my daughter is dying and covered in blood.  I finally stop, and fall on my knees and grab her, and she whispers, *I love you, Mom...*  

           Once again, I awake, and I immediately run over to her bedside, and make sure she is alive.  Once assured, I stay there all night, holding her hand and waiting for her to wake up.

...........................................................................

Saturday, 19th of August, 2017

        Sorry, that last dream was too much.  And last night, once again, my father appeared in my dreams, haunting and taunting me.

         This time around, in three separate dreams, I find myself, in a bed, a couch, and a car.  In each of those he is there, and for some reason, I am unable to move or defend myself, as he has his way with me.  I shudder as my body reacts and I do my best to shut myself out.  I scream, and beg for him to stop, to no avail, finally, a pair of black, wings, come on out, and he flies away, laughing mockingly, as I stay where I am at, feeling so dirty and so mad, that I take a knife and end my life, in all three dreams.

           I cannot do this anymore, too much. So this will be my last entry, and I thank you, for taking the time in reading through it.  But I cannot handle this anymore.  Will see what can be done, so these dreams can stop haunting me.

                                  Signing out, 

                                         Maria

...........................................................................

Author's Note

These are actual dreams that I have had and remember quite vividly. This is non fiction, just made into a dream type journal, but these are real dreams, that I have had.